LOGINMy father’s best friend was my only escape. He became my biggest addiction. After my groom’s arrest at the altar, I fled to my father's world. The only solace I found was in the forbidden eyes of his billionaire best friend. Our secret escape to New York was supposed to be temporary. But his touch became my sanctuary. His whispers became my truth. Now our scandal is about to ignite, threatening everything. I have to choose between the life I was born into… and the man I was born to love.
View MoreThe building is made of glass and certainty.I feel the gap the moment we step out of the car.It rises in front of us — steel, reflective, sharp against the Manhattan sky. His name sits discreetly beside the entrance, etched into brushed metal like it’s always belonged there.St. Clair Global.People move differently here. Faster. Straighter. Purposeful in a way that makes me instinctively check my posture.Richard doesn’t slow down.He doesn’t need to.The revolving doors part. The lobby is all marble and quiet power — muted conversations, heels clicking, security nodding before he even reaches the desk.“Good morning, Mr. St. Clair.”There’s a shift in the air when he walks in. It’s subtle but undeniable. Like gravity adjusting around him.He nods. Efficient. Calm. “Morning.”His hand rests lightly at the small of my back as we walk toward the elevators. Protective, not possessive. But I feel the eyes.Who is she?I feel young here.Twenty-four in a world built by fifty-year-old de
I wake slowly, like I’m surfacing from warm water.For one suspended, weightless moment, I don’t remember where I am. I just know I’m wrapped in something solid and clean and expensive. The sheets are impossibly soft. The mattress feels like it was designed specifically for this body. The air smells faintly of cedar and linen and him.Richard.Memory slides back into place in a rush — gold leaf ceilings, mosaic floors, city lights across bare skin. His voice asking if I would let him choose me. My yes.My heart beats once, hard and sure.I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. It’s not the ballroom’s restored opulence — this is sleek and modern, pale and understated. The bedroom is enormous. Floor-to-ceiling windows line one wall, sheer curtains filtering morning light into a soft silver glow. Somewhere below, the city hums, already awake and moving.I sit up slowly.I don’t remember coming here.A faint smile touches my mouth. He must have carried me.The thought does something
Richard's POVI have brought heads of state into this penthouse. I have signed deals at that dining table worth more than entire companies.None of that prepared me for watching Chloe Dufort turn slowly beneath my ceiling, New York glittering behind her like it rose just to witness her arrival. She looks younger here. Softer. And more dangerous to me than she has ever been."It's different," she says quietly. "From Orlando.""It's honest," I reply.I should feel in control. Instead I feel like a man standing on the edge of something irreversible."Close your eyes," I say.She stills. "Richard…""Trust me."A beat. Then she nods.I take a silk tie from the console table and step behind her. The fabric slides over her eyes. My fingers brush her temples, her hairline. I tie it carefully.My hand settles at the small of her back. She exhales slowly.We take the private elevator down three levels — below everything anyone associates with me. The doors open to dim light and the faint scent
New York Chloe's POV The drive was quiet, but not uncomfortable. His thumb kept stroking the back of my hand in slow circles. Every few minutes, I’d glance at him—the strong line of his jaw, the way he focused on the road.“You’re quiet,” he said after a while.“I’m nervous,” I admitted. “And trying not to ask a hundred questions.”“Ask one,” he said, glancing at me. “Just one for now.”I took a shaky breath. “Is this… a bad idea?”He didn’t answer right away. His hand tightened around mine. “It’s the best bad idea I’ve ever had,” he finally said. “And the only one I don’t want to talk myself out of.”That made my heart do something funny—a mix of fear and pure thrill.---We pulled up to the private airfield. No crowded terminals, no lines. Just a sleek white jet waiting on the tarmac.A uniformed attendant opened my door. “Ms. Dufort.”Richard came around, taking my bag. His hand found the space between my shoulder blades as we walked to the steps. Not possessive. Protective.Insi
Chloe's POV.I couldn’t stop thinking about him.About last night.His low voice in the dark. "I’ve wondered what you would taste like."The way he looked at me—like I was a secret he was scared to keep, and even more scared to lose.The memory played on a loop in my head. It left me restless. Too
Chloe's POV He didn’t let go all at once. It was slow. His arms loosened, and his hands slid down to my elbows, then fell away. The air felt cold where he had been.We didn’t speak. We just walked to the stone bench by the dark water and sat. Not touching, but close. My body still felt warm from w
Richard's POV I’ve run companies on less sleep than I’ve had this week.But this… this felt different.This wasn’t business. This was personal.And personal hurts in a way numbers never could.The flight felt endless. Every minute in the air was another minute she was alone in that big, quiet hous
Chloe's POV That morning, I watched him get ready. His suit was perfect. For a second, I remembered why I fell for the idea of him.“Ready to make us official?” he asked, smiling.I forced a smile back.“I’m ready.”It was the truth.Just not the one he thought.---The ballroom was too much. Too ma
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