LOGIN
Oliva;
My fingers tremble as I zip up the deep emerald gown. The silky fabric glides over my skin, sticking to every curve, the slit along my thigh flashing with each movement. It’s sexy, elegant, perfect for the night I had planned. I light the last candle, and the warm glow of vanilla and jasmine fills my apartment. Thirty years old today. My wild curls falls over my shoulders, caramel highlights catching the light as I check my reflection. I’ve already taken my half of the enhancer, the capsule sitting warm in my stomach, promising the slow, delicious sensation that always turns our nights into pure ecstasy. Nox and I have done this ritual every birthday for three years. Take it early, let it build, and by midnight we lose ourselves completely in each other. I swallow my heart medication next, the bitter pill a daily reminder of my hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. My heart that can’t be trusted. The one that needs constant protection. Not tonight, though. Tonight is supposed to be perfect. But Nox is late. Very late. I call him once. Twice. Three times. It rings, but he doesn’t pick up. Worry knots tight in my chest, mixing with the first faint stirrings of the enhancer. I slip on my heels, grab my coat, and head out. The cab ride to his apartment feels too distant as my heart doesn't stop racing. Something is wrong. His key turns easily in the lock when I arrive. I step inside quietly. Voices drift from the living room; Nox and Reeves, his best friend. They’re arguing. I move closer, ready to ask what’s happening, but their words freeze me in place. “…can’t keep doing this, man. I’m tired of sharing my husband with her,” Reeves says in frustration. Husband? Nox sighs. “Give me more time. I haven’t gathered enough money from Oliva. You know she’s the reason we have this home after our marriage, and our perfect honeymoon in Paris.” My ears ring. The words don’t make sense at first. It feels like I’m hallucinating. My stomach churns as I push the door open, legs shaking. Nox's eyes widen, and his lips move, but his words come out stammering. “Olivia — baby.” “Baby? What’s going on?” My gaze darts between them. “I can explain—” Nox steps forward. “Explain? What do you mean—?” Reeves cuts in without hesitation. “You heard right. I’m tired of sharing my husband with you.” Husband? The word hits hard in my gut. I feel like I might collapse. I turn to Nox, voice barely a whisper. “Are you… gay?” He shrugs, looking almost relieved. “Yes, but I can explain—” “Explain what?” My voice rises, shaking with pain. “That you’ve been using me this whole time? That everything was a lie?” I halt, willing myself to be calm because of my disease. I take in a few breaths. “The three years, the engagement, the ring?” I point at the fake diamond on my finger, hand trembling. “The money I spent on you, the properties I sold because you said your mother was sick, all lies?” Reeves nods. “Yes. All of it.” Tears burn my eyes. “Then the engagement… you gave me this ring…” Reeves snaps, with nose flaring. “Are you stupid? We’re married.” He yanks open a drawer and throws wedding photos at me. They scatter across the floor. I pick one up with numb fingers. Nox and Reeves, kissing, smiling, rings shining. Two men who swore they were best friends. My world crumbles. Everything; every kiss, every promise, every sacrifice, was a game. I was prey. Just a woman they used for money. My legs shake so badly I can barely stand. Sobs tear from my throat as I turn and flee, Nox calling after me. I don’t stop. I rush into the waiting cab, crying hard, mascara running down my cheeks, my perfect gown now wrinkled, curls wild and messy. My phone rings over and over. I ignore it until I can’t anymore. It’s Calista. “Holy shit, Liv, why haven’t you been picking up for hours?” she says when I pick up. “Caspian said you must report to his engagement party right now or you’re fired. You know he’s a total dickhead.” I breathe in shakily. That bastard. After everything tonight, him again? The cruel, prideful, annoying billionaire who has made my life hell for five years. Caspian Fender. He never misses a chance to humiliate me, always snapping about my outfits, my shoes, my curly hair. “A disgrace to the Fender Empire,” he loves to sneer. “How dare a secretary of this company represent us looking like that?” His sharp tongue cuts everyone, but especially me. I hate him so much and not ready for his shity attitude tonight. But I have a lot of bills to pay. “Turn the cab around,” I tell the driver, voice hoarse. “Take me to the Grand Meridian Hall.” When I arrive, my colleagues are huddled in a corner while guests enjoy the lavish party. I walk straight to Calista, my best friend here. “What does he want?” I ask, fighting back fresh tears. “He’s been acting like a demon,” she says, then her gaze roams over my body. “Liv… you look like a mess. What happened?” I can’t speak. I just shake my head, tears threatening to spill again. My eyes drift across the room and land on the dickhead. Caspian Fender. He stands with Lumi Brixton, his stunning fiancée, but he’s drinking heavily, whiskey after whiskey. In five years, I’ve never seen him touch alcohol. Maybe celebration has finally cracked his icy control. I shake my head, bringing my attention back to Cali. The enhancer in my system is starting to manifest, a treacherous sweetness blooming between my thighs, making my pussy throb softly. I shift uncomfortably. Oh… God, not now, please. The evening drags on. I catch glimpses of Caspian Fender drinking more. Why force all staff here for his own engagement? The arrogance of it makes my blood boil. I’m talking with Cali when he stalks over, dark eyes cold. “Olivia Bash.” His voice is rude as always, cutting. “You’re late.” “Today is my birthday, and—” He cuts me off sharply. “Attend to the couple at the end table. I want to invest. Get their financial details, interests, everything. Report back before the night ends.” I try to speak again, but he interrupts with a finger raised at my face. “We also have an important trip to Tokyo tomorrow morning.” My eyes widen in shock, but I can’t say a word. In his defense, “I pay you heavily, so do the damn job or someone else will.” And with that, he walks away without another word. Calista and I curse him under our breath. “What an absolute asshole,” she mutters. “I need to finish this quickly so I can go home and rest before the trip,” I say, voice tired. I head toward the couple, but halfway there, the enhancer hits harder. Sweetness floods my pussy. It throbs insistently, wetness gathering. Beads of sweat glisten on my forehead as I force myself to concentrate. Get the task done, Oliva, and go home. Thank gracious heavens that the couple is polite, and it doesn’t take me long to gather the information despite the growing ache between my legs. When I return, Caspian is nowhere in sight. Lumi is chatting with others. I ask Calista. “He must be in his hotel suite,” she says, giving me the room number. “Better take it to him now.” I hurry to the elevator, cursing him with every step. My pussy is dripping, the throbbing almost unbearable as I enter the suite. Caspian sits on the bed, legs stretched, back against the headboard. His suit jacket is gone. His white shirt is unbuttoned to his stomach, revealing sculpted abs covered in tattoos. His long black hair falls loose. He looks drunk, the first time I’ve seen him like this. Extremely handsome for a bastard. “Did you get the information?” he asks in an almost audible voice. “Yes.” I move closer to the bedside, punching my iPad, but my eyes won’t leave his exposed body. His warmth, his perfect muscles, the hard outline of his cock pressing against his pants. God, Oliva, get your act together. I shouldn’t notice that. My pussy throbs harder as the smells of whiskey, his expensive cologne, and his raw masculinity hit me. I send my gaze to the iPad. Getting lost in my explanation when he suddenly grabs my wrist and yanks me forward. I land on his body with a gasp. My boobs press against his hard muscle. The massive size of his already hard cock against my butt. I try to pull away, but he strokes my wild curls gently. “You look very beautiful tonight… Lumi,” he murmurs. “I’m not—” He hushes me with a finger to my lips, without warning, he presses his lips against mine, parting my lips and claiming my tongue. I try to move away, this isn’t right, he’s drunk and thinks I’m his fiancée. But his hand slips under my gown, adjusting my pants and finding my clit. I gasp. “You’re fucking wet,” he growls, sliding his fingers inside me, working skillfully. My control shatters. I grab his long hair, kissing him back desperately, my fingers undoing the rest of his shirt buttons. Caspian rips my panties away, his mouth devouring mine as his powerful body moves over me. He drags my dress up to my waistline as the rattling of his belt and zip echoes in the room. His warm, huge tips press against my entrance as he spreads my thighs, lifting them. With one push, he slides into me. For that moment, the pain of Nox's betrayal fades into the fire of Caspian’s touch as I lose myself in my shitty boss’s bed.Oliva;Weeks in.My eyes fly open to the insistent, shrill ringing of my phone. Exhaustion weighs heavily on my body like lead. These days, waking up feels like dragging myself out of quicksand. The pregnancy has turned my mornings into a battlefield of nausea, fatigue, and a bone-deep tiredness that no amount of sleep seems to fix. With a groan, I fumble for the phone on my nightstand, my curls a wild mess across my pillow.It’s Calista.“Liv, where the hell are you?” she whispers urgently the moment I answer.“Still in bed,” I mumble, voice vibrating with sleep.“Girl, you need to move right now!” she says. “The dickhead is back. His plane just landed. He’ll be at the office any minute.”I scream internally and literally jolt upright, heart slamming against my ribs. “Shit!”For the past week, while Caspian was away, I had been sneaking in late, giving my battered body and heart some much-needed rest. Now he’s back, and the little peace I’d found shatters instantly. I hate how much p
Oliva;I pace back and forth across my tiny living room, the old wooden floor squeaking under my frantic steps. My fists clench tightly in my wild curls, tugging until my scalp stings. The pregnancy test still lies on the coffee table like a bomb that has already gone off. Positive. Caspian Fender’s child. What am I going to do? Tears burn my eyes as I stop in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection, pale face, messy hair, eyes wide with terror. I can’t tell him. I can’t walk into that man’s office and say, “Congratulations, you’re going to be a father.” The arrogant bastard would laugh in my face or worse accuse me of trying to trap him for his money. He hates my guts. Five years of constant ridicule have made that painfully clear. And the worst part? He doesn’t even remember that night. To him, I’m still just the disgraceful secretary with bad hair and worse shoes. I press a hand to my flat stomach, the nausea rising again. A baby. With no father who would want it. With
Oliva;My eyes snap open, and for one terrifying heartbeat, I don’t know where I am. Then I feel it; the heavy, possessive weight of a muscular arm draped across my waist, the heat of a large male body pressed against my back. My stomach drops like a stone. Caspian Fender. He is still asleep beside me, his long jet-black hair fanned across the pillow, dark lashes resting against sharp cheekbones. His breathing is deep and even. The sheets have slipped low, revealing the hard planes of his tattooed chest and abs. He looks almost peaceful. Beautiful, even. Disgust and horror slam into me so hard I struggle to breathe. What have I done? I slap a hand over my mouth to choke back the sob rising in my throat, then slap my own cheek hard. The sting buds across my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the embarrassment boiling through my veins. How could I? How could I have given my body to this bastard? The man I have hated with every fiber of my being for five years. The rude, pridef
Oliva;My fingers tremble as I zip up the deep emerald gown. The silky fabric glides over my skin, sticking to every curve, the slit along my thigh flashing with each movement. It’s sexy, elegant, perfect for the night I had planned. I light the last candle, and the warm glow of vanilla and jasmine fills my apartment. Thirty years old today. My wild curls falls over my shoulders, caramel highlights catching the light as I check my reflection. I’ve already taken my half of the enhancer, the capsule sitting warm in my stomach, promising the slow, delicious sensation that always turns our nights into pure ecstasy. Nox and I have done this ritual every birthday for three years. Take it early, let it build, and by midnight we lose ourselves completely in each other.I swallow my heart medication next, the bitter pill a daily reminder of my hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. My heart that can’t be trusted. The one that needs constant protection. Not tonight, though. Tonight is supposed to be per







