MasukShe is Kiara Monera—New York’s Ice Queen, an award-winning CEO who built an empire from nothing. Ruthless. Brilliant. Untouchable. She doesn’t believe in luck—only in power, control, and winning. He is Silva Blackwood—the heir to the Blackwood dynasty, feared and desired in equal measure. Arrogant. Dangerous. A man who has never been told “no.” They were supposed to marry. Not for love, but for legacy, power, and bloodlines. But Silva would rather die than marry a woman like her. And Kiara? She would never beg for a man’s love. Yet one reckless night in a dark club changes everything. A kiss that feels like war. A night that feels like surrender. And a consequence neither of them can ignore. Now, she carries a secret that could shatter her empire. And he carries a rage that could burn the world. Bound by betrayal, pride, and a baby they never planned, Kiara and Silva are forced into a dangerous marriage where passion and hate blur into obsession. But in a world where enemies wear smiles, secrets can kill, and love feels like the ultimate weakness— Can two people who would rather destroy each other than submit… Survive being tied together forever?
Lihat lebih banyakChapter 10KIARA’S POVThe shadows of the orphanage always felt colder in my dreams. I could smell the damp concrete, the metallic tang of cheap cleaning supplies, and that underlying scent of stale soup and unwashed blankets. In the dream, I was seven again, huddled in the corner of a room that held too many children and not enough hope. I was waiting for someone to look at me, to see me, but the figures passing by were just grey blurs. Then the blur sharpened into the face of my adoptive father, his blue eyes piercing and judgmental, reminding me that I was a project, a contract, a girl with a name that didn't belong to her.I jolted awake, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. My silk sheets were damp with cold sweat, and the air in Silva’s hyper-modern bedroom felt suffocatingly thin. I didn't scream. I had learned a long time ago that screaming didn't bring help; it only brought attention to your weakness.I sat up, clutching my stomach. The baby kicked—a small, fl
Chapter 9KIARA’S POVThe velvet of my dress felt like armor, which was exactly what I needed for my first foray into the den of lions that was a Blackwood Enterprises charity gala. I stood in front of my gold-leaf mirror, adjusting the straps of a gown that probably cost more than a mid-sized sedan. It was elegant, sure, but it was loud—a deep, shimmering sapphire that practically screamed for attention.Silva walked into the room, looking like he’d been carved out of marble. His black tuxedo was so sharp it could probably draw blood. He didn't look at me with admiration; he looked at me like a project manager inspecting a potentially faulty piece of equipment."You’re late," he said, checking his Rolex."I’m fashionably timed," I corrected, grabbing my clutch. "Besides, perfection takes effort, Silva. You should try it sometime."He ignored the jab and handed me a folded piece of paper. "Read this. Memorize it. These are the approved topics for tonight. You are to be elegant, suppor
Chapter 8KIARA’S POVMoving day felt less like a romantic transition and more like a hostile takeover of a very boring, very grey museum. I stood in the center of Silva’s living room, clutching my designer handbag like a shield, and stared at the "minimalist" disaster before me. The penthouse was all glass, steel, and shades of slate that made me wonder if he’d ever actually seen a color in his life. It was hyper-modern, hyper-clean, and irritably sterile—just like the man who owned it."Where is the furniture?" I asked, my voice echoing off the polished concrete floors. "Did you forget to buy things, or do you just enjoy living in a high-end refrigerator?"Silva didn't even look up from his tablet. He was leaning against a kitchen island that was basically a giant slab of white marble. "It’s called intentionality, Kiara. I don't believe in cluttering my workspace or my living space with useless trinkets.""I call it depression," I shot back.The chaos truly began when my movers arri
Chapter 7KIARA’S POVI stared at the gold band on my finger as we walked out of the courthouse, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was suffocating. Married. I was actually married to Silva Blackwood. The ink on that certificate wasn't even dry yet, but it felt like a brand on my skin. I, Kiara Monroe—no, Blackwood now—the woman who built an empire from nothing, had just signed away my independence for the sake of a tiny heartbeat I could barely feel yet.The New York air felt thin as Silva led me toward his sleek, black luxury sedan. He didn't offer a hand. He didn't even look at me. He just walked with that infuriating, predatory grace, as if he hadn't just tied himself to his worst enemy. I climbed into the passenger seat, the smell of expensive leather and his crisp cologne filling my senses. Usually, I loved the smell of success, but right now, it made my head spin.The gravity of it hit me all at once. The press, the board members, the Russians—how was I going to e


















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