MasukShe’s chaos. He’s control. And the war starts at ‘I do.’ What happens when a bad girl and a good boy get married? She lives for parties. He lives for books. She loves trouble. He craves peace. She thinks love is a joke. He believes it’s sacred. She’s chaos. He’s order. She’s sin. He’s innocence. And now… they’re husband and wife. When Nessa Stevens, the spoiled billionaire’s daughter, pushes her father too far, he gives her a brutal choice: marry the man I pick, or lose your inheritance. Annoyed, she dares him to find her a husband. Big mistake. Because the man he chooses is Aaron Amahle—the quiet, responsible nerd she once bullied in high school. He’s the last person she wants. And now seems to be the only one she can’t escape.
Lihat lebih banyakAaron’s POV..I finally snuck out of the gate, sucking in a breath. Nessa and I had decided to come to town to visit Mom and Dad with Marshal and also see his wife.Yes, a year ago Marshal had secretly had a small wedding with Martha, a woman in her early forties he’d apparently been seeing for years but was too shy to introduce to Nessa. Nessa, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care. Her dad was happy, and that was all that mattered. Martha seemed like a really nice woman, to be honest, with a great sense of humor.The party didn’t seem like it would end anytime soon, and it was already 8 p.m. Nessa and I would be leaving by noon tomorrow, which meant if I didn’t go see Sam tonight, it would be impossible.I got into my car, thanking God I hadn’t parked inside, and started it. My eyes drifted to the gifts I had picked up for Sam on the way here.It’s been almost a year since he lost his dad and almost a year and a half since we last talked. He never replied to my texts, never retur
Sam’s POV..It had been almost two years since the incident, a year and a half since I graduated, and five months since Baba passed — and yet it felt like time hadn’t moved at all.I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The dark circles under my eyes were so deep they looked like makeup. I had lost so much weight my cheekbones felt painfully visible.I couldn’t understand it. It had been just a little fever. Baba had faced other serious illnesses before and he’d recovered — yet a simple fever took him in less than forty-eight hours.Just when I was about to make him proud. Just when life was starting to make sense. He died.Baba… died.I held the sink tight, splashed water on my face, then dragged myself back to bed. Bottles of alcohol and junk food from weeks ago were scattered around and I didn’t care. I fell under the covers — that had been my routine for as long as I could remember: waking up, drinking, then hiding under blankets in the illusion that the world was som
Nessa’s POV..I sat outside on the front porch as Aaron’s car pulled up. I stood, resisting the urge to clap like a kid whose favorite parent just came home.What the hell was wrong with me?He stepped out, walking toward me with a small smile on his face.Me: come on, I cooked dinner..I sat cross-legged on the bed in my nightwear, my hair still damp from the shower as I waited for Aaron. Dinner had been silent, him barely looking at me once—but with how pink his cheeks were, I knew exactly why.The bathroom door opened and Aaron stepped out in a loose shirt and shorts, his legs showing. God, he had beautiful legs. And, as expected, his eyes landed on everything but me.Aaron: uhm… I’m gonna… go sleep on the couch.Me: you can just sleep here! It’s a big enough bed anyway.He hesitated, pressing his lips together before finally nodding. He got in on the other side, and I slid under the covers too, our faces turned toward each other as his round dark eyes searched mine.Aaron: how’
Sam’s POV..My eyes fluttered open, landing on a grey ceiling. I frowned, blinking repeatedly as I raised my head, my gaze drifting around the room. The memories of last night rushed back, and I quickly shut my eyes.Nicholas fucking Grey.Opening my eyes again, I moved my legs, relieved to finally feel them working. I sat up, tried pushing myself to my feet, but fell back against the bed with a groan. I tried again, wobbling this time but managing to stand. My balance was shaky, but I forced myself forward, using the wall for support until I reached the door.The hallway stretched out, wide and silent, except for the faint sound of pots clinking. I followed it, one hand gripping the stair railing, taking each step slowly, carefully, until I reached the bottom.The living room was massive, painted in muted greys. I turned toward the corner—and there he was. Nicholas, standing at the stove, his back to me as he stirred something in a pot. My stomach twisted, anger flaring.I moved qu






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