LOGINKelly Robert, a 29-year-old struggling entrepreneur, is on the brink of total destruction. Her fashion business has failed, and she's drowning in debt. Desperate and reckless, Kelly lets go of her inhibitions for one night, sharing a fiery encounter with a mysterious stranger in a downtown Seattle club. Fate twists when Kelly lands an interview for the job of personal secretary to Michael Donovan, the cold and brilliant billionaire CEO of Donovan Corporation. To her shock, Donovan is the same man from that night who ignited a burning desire within her. As secrets and seduction entwine, Kelly uncovers a dark conspiracy within the corporation. Former employees goes missing, accidents occur with alarming frequency, and Kelly finds herself trapped in a deadly game of passion and deception. As the danger escalates, Kelly must confront the terrifying possibility that falling for a billionaire may be the most dangerous decision she ever makes…
View MoreKelly's POV
The sound of loud banging on my apartment door dragged me violently out of a deep sleep. I bolted upright on the worn futon, my heart leaping into my throat as the door frame groaned under the force of another loud knock. "Kelly Robert! Open this fucking door right now! I know you're in there!" Damnit! It was Mr. Miller, my landlord and I could hear his voice perfectly through the cheap walls. I scrambled quickly out of my blanket, my bare feet hitting the icy floor. Panic immediately flared in my chest as I tried to remember what day it was. My studio apartment wasn't much bigger than a college dorm room, but it contained important things I wasn't ready to lose. "Just a second!" I called out, my voice sounding rough from both sleep and sheer anxiety. I rushed to the door, pulling it open just a crack, and anchoring my foot behind it just in case he tries to come in. Mr. Miller stood in the barely lit hallway, his face flushed red, holding a bright yellow piece of paper that looked like a death warrant for my living situation. "Mr. Miller, I am so sorry," I started, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "I know I’m late on this month's rent, but I am actively looking for work. I am waiting for a call from the company that has agreed to hire me, and as soon as I get a temporary placement, I will bring you the cash directly." "I’ve heard the same story for three months, Kelly," he cut me off, his tone cold as he shoved the yellow paper through the narrow opening. "Your lies and your promises don't pay my mortgage. I’m giving you exactly three weeks to clear everything you owe me in full, or I will change the locks and put your things on the sidewalk." He said angrily. “Also don't bother trying to use the bathroom today. I already turned off the water coming to your apartment until I see some cash." "Wait! What? You turned off my water? You can't do that without…" I shouted, forgetting myself for a moment. "Watch me," he snapped, turning on his heel and marching down the echoing hallway toward the stairs without looking back. I slammed the door shut and leaned my back against it, exhaling a ragged breath. The yellow paper felt heavy in my hand as I dropped it into a drawer that already held three identical warnings. Desperate to see if he was just bluffing, I hurried over to the small sink in my kitchen area and twisted the tap. A dry hissing sound echoed from the pipes, but not a single drop emerged. "Seriously?" I barked into the quiet room. I had paid half of the outstanding water bill last week, hoping it would buy me at least a few more days of hot showers and fresh coffee. But it seems the utility company had clearly chosen to side with my landlord. I grabbed a damp washcloth from the edge of the basin and rubbed it over my face, trying to wipe away the puffiness under my eyes. Suddenly, my phone buzzed violently on the chipped table, breaking the silence in the apartment. I picked it up, expecting another message from people I owed money, but instead, the screen displayed an incoming video call from my older brother, Dylan. A heavy knot twisted in my stomach because I really didn't want to speak to him at the moment. Dylan was a part-owner of a successful law firm, he was punctual to a fault, and far too perceptive for my own good. He is the absolute picture of stability and success, which makes facing him while standing in a freezing, waterless apartment feel completely humiliating. I took a deep breath, forced a happy smile onto my face, and slid the screen to accept the call. "Hey, Dylan." His clean-shaven face and perfectly styled hair appeared on the screen, framed by a beautifully curated background of dark wooden bookshelves and a thriving houseplant. He looked closely at the camera, his brow furrowing instantly. "Hey yourself. You look exhausted, Kelly. Are you alright?" "I'm fine, just a busy morning," I lied smoothly, angling the phone slightly so he couldn't see the chipped paint on the wall behind me. "I was just going through some emails and reviewing some prospective job listings." "At eleven in the morning?" Dylan tilted his head, his sharp lawyer instincts picking up on the tension in my voice. "You rarely pick up my calls lately, and you sound like you're doing that thing where you pretend everything is perfect when it's clearly not. What's the latest? Have you found any solid leads?" "Actually, yes," I said, the lie tasting like ash in my mouth. "I have a few interviews lined up for later this week. I just need a little bit of time to get everything sorted out, honestly." Dylan sighed, a deep, heavy sound carrying the weight of obligation. "Kelly, you know you don't have to go through this alone right? I can help you find a good position at a reputable company, and I am perfectly okay with handling the financial side of things until you get back on your feet. You don't have to keep freezing me out." "It's really fine, Dylan, I am doing okay," I replied, my voice sharpening with a defensiveness I couldn't entirely control. The last thing I wanted was to become a charity case for my successful older brother, or to drag his law firm's resources into my financial disaster. "I appreciate the offer, really, but I can handle my own life. I don't need you to be my personal bank." I said grudgingly. "I'm not trying to be a bank, I'm trying to be your brother," he countered gently. "Fine… If anything changes, or if you find yourself backed into a corner, you promise me you'll call. I just want to ensure you're okay." "I promise, Dylan. I have to go finish getting ready," I said quickly. Before he could try to convince me once more, the screen flashed a battery warning, and the phone died completely, its screen turning into a dark, empty void. "No, no, no!" I groaned, pressing the power button repeatedly, but the device remained entirely unresponsive. I tossed the dead phone onto the table. With no water to cook or even make coffee, I wonder what my next step would be. Suddenly, my stomach let out a loud growl. Well it seems I needed to get something to eat, and I needed to do it now. I pulled a heavy jacket over my hoodie, grabbed my wallet with the last few crumpled dollars I possessed, and headed out the door.Kelly’s POVThe doors of the Donovan building slid open with a soft, mechanical hiss as I approached it. The cool air from the lobby hit my face, a sharp contrast to the humid morning air outside. I adjusted the strap of my laptop bag on my shoulder, making sure it was secure before I started walking across the wide expanse of the marble floor. I still felt every bit of the tension from last week still sitting in the base of my neck, making my muscles feel tight and unforgiving. “Morning, Kelly,” the receptionist called out from behind the wide, circular desk in the center of the lobby.I stopped for a second and looked at her, because I didn’t want to look like something was wrong with me. “Morning,” I replied. But I didn't stop to chat like I usually did, I just kept moving toward the elevators.Everything in the building looked exactly the same as it had last week, but I didn’t feel the same. I felt like the world had shifted just a few inches to the left, and I was still tr
Michael’s POVThe security office of the company was located in a windowless corner of the basement levels, far away from the polished marble and glass of the executive floor. The air inside the room was dry and smelled faintly of ozone and electronics. A dozen high-definition monitors lined the walls, casting a flickering blue light over the faces of the three analysts on duty. I stood directly behind Miller, the lead analyst, who had been with the Donovan Corporation for several years. He was usually a very stoic man, but today I noticed a slight tension in his shoulders as he navigated the video archives. “Play that again,” I said.Miller didn't say a word, he simply tapped a few keys on his keyboard, and the main monitor rewound the footage. The image was clear and captured in colors, showing the storage corridors of basement level B2. A digital timestamp in the bottom corner of the screen ticked away with mechanical indifference.The screen showed a long, narrow hallway lin
Kelly’s POVI didn’t feel even remotely out of danger until I was safely behind my own front door. Even then, it took a long moment for my breathing to slow down to a regular rhythm. I stepped into the apartment and closed the door making sure I turned the deadbolt, hearing the solid click of the mechanism. And then I turned the secondary lock again, just to be absolutely sure that I was truly alone and secure.The silence inside the apartment wrapped around me immediately, but it wasn't a comforting silence. It felt too quiet, like the air was charged with mysteries. I dropped my bag by the small entryway table and stood perfectly still in the foyer as I found myself listening without even meaning to, straining my ears for any sound that shouldn't be there. It was as if I half-expected to hear something move in the bedroom or to see a shadow shift in the corner of my eye. I wanted to make sure that the terrifying feeling that had followed me all the way from the company's parkin
Kelly’s POVThe meeting started at eleven in the morning and somehow stretched into almost two hours of talks that never quite said anything directly. And it was held in a massive glass-walled conference room on the twenty-third floor of a partner firm that Owen worked closely with. The room had a large table, filtered light, and overly confident people who smiled far too easily while choosing their words even more carefully to ensure they never committed to anything solid. I was there strictly to observe because that was exactly how Owen put it when he told me. “Just watch, take notes, and speak if you notice something important,” right before we walked through the doors. It sounded incredibly simple in theory, except absolutely nothing about the tense atmosphere in the room made me comfortable. Two senior executives and one sharply dressed external consultant sat around the table with Owen positioned at the head, looking completely relaxed like he owned the entire space witho






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