LOGINShe came for revenge. He wasn’t supposed to see her. Alina Reyes takes a job with her ex’s billionaire father, Dominic Cole, with one goal: make him choose her — and destroy the son who called her “temporary.” But Dominic doesn’t play games. He sees through lies. And he sees her. What starts as a cold-blooded plan turns into late nights, stolen coats, and a kiss in a blackout that ruins everything. When the truth explodes, she loses the job. He loses the company. Ethan loses them both. Now there’s nothing left but ashes — and a choice. She wanted revenge. He gave her a reason to stay.
View MoreI walked out of the room, my heels echoing lightly against the polished floor, I reached out to the balcony wanting to speak to my dad cause I heard his voice down the stairs, it seemed like he was speaking to someone and that was when I saw him.
At first, it didn’t register. My mind almost skipped over it, like it didn’t belong in the same space as everything else and then my eyes focused. He stood near the center of the room, just slightly behind a woman I assumed was new staff. But it wasn’t her that held my attention, it was him. He was tall, That was the first thing. Not just tall, he carried it in a way that made it noticeable. Effortless. Natural. Like he wasn’t trying to stand out, but still did. His shoulders were broad, stretching the simple fabric of his shirt in a way that felt… unfair. Not overly built, not exaggerated, just enough to make you look twice and I did more than twice. His posture was relaxed, but not careless. Hands loosely at his sides, jaw sharp, features defined in a way that didn’t need effort to be attractive. Dark hair. Slightly messy. Like he didn’t care enough to fix it, but it still looked good anyway. His face!!! God there was something about it that swept my feet off the ground, it wasn’t soft, not exactly hard either they looked controlled, yes yes! That’s the word, and his eyes I couldn’t see them clearly from where I stood but the way they moved around, it was obvious he didn’t belong here but then…. My mouth dropped open when my eyes fell on his pants, my pussy felt it too goosebumps grew on my skin. His Joggers hugged his hip slightly so it was clearly visible There a mother fucking 7 inches i wimped. My lips parted slightly before I even realized it. What the hell? I straightened a little, my grip tightening subtly against the railing as I continued staring, my brain already diving into conclusion as my mind started to imagine things. My eyes dropped on how the shirt he wore hugged his hot chest, I was dripping at this point. “Get it together Mira!” I lashed out harshly at myself as I felt my toes twisting in funny ways. I turned, walking back toward my room to grab my bag, but the image lingered. Annoyingly. _____________________________________________ I didn’t mean to wake up, but something felt off. Not loud, but just enough to pull me out of my sleep like a whisper brushing my skin. My eyes opened slowly, heavy with the kind of dream that doesn’t leave immediately. My breath came out uneven, my body still caught somewhere between reality and whatever I had just escaped. I stayed there for a second, staring at the ceiling. Then I exhaled. “God!.” I dragged my hand down my face, sitting up slowly as the silk sheets slipped against my skin. My room was exactly how I left it—perfect, quiet, untouched. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Soft morning light pouring in. Everything looked expensive. Everything controlled. And yet…I glanced down at myself, my brows pulling together slightly, I touched my thighs and of course I was dripping wet. I closed my eyes slowly clustering my fist together. This was the 6th time this week, I’ve been fucking the devil hell out of Ethan in my sleep all week, I clicked my tongue softly and pushed the sheets off me, sliding out of bed. The marble floor was cold under my feet as I walked toward the bathroom, tying my robe loosely around my waist. Maybe it was because of Ethan, it has to be him. I’ve been begging him all week to drop by the house but it’s either his bust or just some crazy excuse to avoid me. I picked up my phone from the counter, staring at the screen. There was still no message from him, but two weeks ago he was always around we fucked countless times and honestly he didn’t act distance so why is he acting all up this week, today is Monday and for some reason he hasn’t even responded to any of my text messages. I leaned against the sink, tilting my head slightly as I studied my reflection. That beautiful smile that captivated everyone reappeared on my face, my eyes dropped down on my nipples how black they looked extremely different from my amazing creamy chocolate skin color. Flawless skin. Long dark hair falling over my shoulders. Lips slightly parted like I’d just been kissed. I looked exactly like the girl everyone wanted to be Slowly I touched my nipples. I felt this slight pain that comes with this hunger to reach out to my pussy. “Not today Mira…. Not this morning” I pushed my hands away, it’s the first day of school and if I result in touching myself in sensitive places I am going to be late. I grabbed my toothbrush, pushing the thoughts aside. No point overthinking it. If Ethan wanted space, fine. I wasn’t exactly the type to beg, more over my fingers are not for fancy. I finished up, got dressed, and stepped out of my room, the soft click of my heels echoing lightly against the polished floor. And there it was I heard voices from down the stairs. I slowed as I reached the top of the staircase, my fingers brushing against the glass railing as I stepped toward the balcony overlooking the living room. “make sure everything is handled properly,” my father’s voice echoed, calm and authoritative as always. Of course it was always business even at home. I rolled my eyes slightly as I peeped down and that was when I saw him. I spent nothing less than 15 minutes admiring God’s creation. I walked down the stairs elegantly with that irresistible smile on my face, the one that would get everyone turning to give a second look.Coffee turns into dinner. Dinner turns into walking. Walking turns into his place. Not the penthouse — he sold that. A brownstone in Brooklyn with books stacked on the floor and a kitchen that smells like someone actually cooks in it. No strategy. No games. Just… quiet. “This is weird,” I say, sitting on his couch. It’s leather, worn. Not corporate. His. “What is?” He hands me tea. Tea, not wine. Not a power move. Just tea because I said I was cold. “Us. Here. Without the building trying to kill us.” He sits next to me. Not touching. But close enough that I can feel the heat of him. “Do you want the building back?” “No.” I laugh. “God, no. I just… I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.” “There is no other shoe,” he says. “Just this. If you want it.” I look at him. Really look. No CEO mask. No armor. Just Dominic. Gray at the temples, lines around his eyes that didn’t come from spreadsheets. Lines that came from grief and from laughing despite it. “I want it,”
I don’t chase him. That’s the first choice I make that isn’t about Ethan. I wake up on Sienna’s couch with Dominic’s coat clutched to my chest and the internet still calling me a homewrecker. For a second, I think about texting him. Thank you for the coat. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean Venice. I don’t. Because “I’m sorry” doesn’t un-trend a hashtag. And “I didn’t mean it” doesn’t rebuild a board’s trust. So I do the only thing I have left. I start over. ---Week One. I delete social media. All of it. Instagram, Twitter, LinkedIn — gone. Sienna films me doing it, like it’s an exorcism. “Good,” she says. “Now burn your phone.” “Can’t. I need it for job applications.” Job applications. Plural. Fifty-seven by Friday. No one calls back. Google my name and the first result is still INTERN HONEYPOT. The second is Ethan’s livestream, clipped and captioned and turned into a meme. The third is a think piece: The Ethics of Age-Gap Power Dynamics in Post-MeToo Corporations. I
We fly back from Venice in silence. Not the angry kind. The kind that’s full. Like the air between us is holding its breath. Dominic doesn’t touch me on the plane. He doesn’t have to. His hand rests on the armrest between us, and my pinky is half an inch from his. Neither of us moves. Neither of us needs to. We land at Teterboro. Marcus is waiting. His face tells me everything before he opens his mouth. “We have a problem,” he says. Dominic goes still. “What kind?” “The Ethan kind.” ---It’s not a leak. It’s a flood. Screenshots. My old notes app. Project D: Get Close to DC. Step 1: Internship. Step 2: Trust. Step 3: Make him choose me. I’d deleted it. Or thought I did. iCloud keeps things. Ethan’s always been good at finding the things you thought you deleted. He sent it to Dominic. To the board. To Sienna. To Page Six. The headline is already up: INTERN HONEYPOT TARGETS COLE CEO: “Daddy’s Girl” Revenge Plot Exposed My phone has 47 missed calls. 65 texts. All
Dominic doesn’t ask me to go to Venice. He tells me. “Wheels up at 6 AM,” Marcus says, dropping a folder on my desk Tuesday morning. “Venice. D’Angelo account. You’re on the pitch team.” I look up. Dominic’s office door is closed. It’s been closed since the gala. Since Are you in this with me? Since I didn’t answer. “Why me?” I ask. Marcus gives me a look. Really? “Because you speak Italian.” I don’t. I took two semesters in college and can order wine and swear. “Because you closed Chicago,” Marcus corrects himself. “And because Mr. Cole said so.” Mr. Cole. We’re back to that. I pack a bag. I don’t pack expectations. --- Venice. 9:43 AM local time. It’s stupid beautiful. The kind of beautiful that feels like a personal attack when your life is a mess. Canals, stone bridges, light bouncing off water like the whole city is made of glass. The D’Angelo meeting is brutal. Three hours of old men in linen suits talking about “legacy” and “disruption” while I translat






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