LOGIN"I don't like a fresh stake," My husband said while making love with his secretary in front of me, I married him for the sake of our company but he never dare to touch me, because I'm V, and that the thing disgusts him, I run to a club because of jealousy but after I wake up, the most famous perverted and playboy businessman is naked in the same bed with me, "What the hell have I done?" I said while looking at my body.
View MoreThe dim light flickered overhead as I set the small table in the hideout. My hands moved mechanically, placing two plates of hastily prepared pasta, steam curling into the silence. It felt surreal to be here, especially after the whirlwind that had led to my divorce. The air was thick with unspoken words, a tension that settled heavily in my chest. Harreld lounged against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk on his lips that hinted at mischief. “Is this your idea of a romantic dinner?” he teased, his tone playful yet charged. I shot him a glare, crossing my arms tightly. “Don’t flatter yourself. This is just sustenance.” The words were defensive, a shield against the pull he had on me. He chuckled, leaning forward slightly. “Sustenance for what? A new chapter in your life?” I felt my cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and something else—something more dangerous. “You think I want this? You think I enjoy this twisted situation?” “Maybe we’re both trapped,” he said, his voice shi
The sun was setting as I leaned against the balcony railing, staring out at the city skyline. My thoughts were a chaotic swirl, much like the colors of the sunset. I had left Claymon behind—his coldness, the hurt, the pity that clung to us like an unwanted shadow. Now, standing here, I felt the weight of uncertainty lifting, even if just slightly.Harreld was inside, his presence both comforting and electrifying. Ever since our unexpected connection, everything felt different. But there was something lurking beneath the surface—a tension I couldn’t quite place.“Marissa!” Harreld’s voice called from the living room, pulling me from my thoughts. I turned to see him emerging, a playful smirk on his face, but his eyes held a seriousness that contradicted it.“Yeah?” I replied, trying to keep my tone light, even as my heart raced.“Come here. I need your opinion on something.” He gestured toward a large map spread across the coffee table, littered with notes and marked locations.Curiosit
The neon lights of the club flickered as I pushed through the heavy door, the bass thumping like my heart. I hadn’t intended to come here again, but something about the chaos felt comforting after everything with Claymon. The bartender's startled look reminded me I was stepping back into a world I thought I had left behind."Marissa!" he called, but I waved him off, already scanning the room for a familiar face. I wasn’t here for him—I was here for Harreld.He was leaning against his sleek black car outside, arms crossed, a figure of calm in the chaos around him. As I approached, I could see the tension in his shoulders. “You’re late,” he said, his voice low, almost teasing.“Traffic,” I replied, smirking, but I could sense he wasn’t in the mood for jokes.“Let’s talk,” he said, his expression shifting from playful to serious. “I need to know what happened with Claymon.”I sighed, the weight of my recent conversations flooding back. “We talked. It’s over. He… he doesn’t love me, and I
Harreld’s presence had shifted something inside me, igniting a flame I thought was extinguished. I stepped into the sleek, black car he had waiting, and as I settled into the leather seat, I caught his gaze—intense, almost protective.“Where to?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light despite the weight of our recent conversations.“Somewhere we can talk privately,” he replied, his voice low and serious.The drive was filled with electric tension, the kind that buzzed just beneath the surface. I knew Harreld was a mafia boss, a powerful figure who commanded respect and fear. But right now, it was his gentleness that intrigued me. I could sense the complexity behind his rugged exterior.“Are you worried about Claymon?” he asked, breaking the silence. His eyes flickered toward me, gauging my reaction.“I’m not worried about him,” I said firmly. “I’m more concerned about what comes next for me. I’m done with that chapter.” Harreld nodded, though his expression remained serious. “Good. Y












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