MONIQUEAs the clock ticked closer to the moment of the official seal being opened, the few guests that were in attendance had dwindled—it was almost laughable. The very few guests that hung around mingled, champagne flutes in hand, while photographers hovered nearby, ready to capture the moment. But as I scanned the room, I discovered Liam was nowhere in sight.This was his big night, wasn't it? The launch couldn't wait, but neither could my questions about his whereabouts. Watching how all this affected him was the highlight so far of my time in his employ. I couldn't even hide the satisfaction on my expression.I slipped to the side of the ballroom, out of sight of the few people lingering, and quickly dialed Richardson. As I waited for him to pick up, I surveyed the room again, searching for any sign of Liam. When Richardson answered, his voice was clear and steady, reassuring me and rubbing my own proud shoulder. It just felt too good."Everything's running smoothly here," I cou
LIAMTwo days after the hotel launch, I had done my best to stay off the grid. I needed to reset, regroup. The launch night still lingered in my mind, the low turnout, the whispers about her—the damn Queen of the West. She'd managed to pull off a spectacle, sure, but I wasn't worried about the fireworks and flash. I had longevity on my side. Running a hotel in Midtown Manhattan was about more than just showmanship. It was about staying power, strategy, and knowing how to pull the right strings in the right places.She could pull a big launch show, but let's see if her business strategy was worth anything. Launching a hotel is one thing, keeping it thriving in a city like this is a different beast entirely. And I intended to own this city, one way or another.I didn't get this far to come out second. I was currently running one of the biggest cartel in the state. The hotels, clubs and restaurants were just surface level glory. Legit concealing the illicit.The competition had just offi
MONIQUEI hated him.Who did he think he was, claiming my body like it belonged to him? As if that wasn't enough, he stirred feelings in me that had no right to exist. Thankfully, I caught myself before they could take root.I knew exactly what kind of man he was. What had I been expecting—some kind of commitment to whatever twisted thing was between us? He was a lying, disloyal, murderous bastard. It was time to sever any ties that weren't focused on one goal: tearing down his empire and ripping everything from him, just like he did to me.Blanca was exactly his type—married or not. They were a perfect match. A shallow relationship like that was going nowhere fast. I still heard her condescending tone when she delivered his message at the launch, practically gloating. If he was going to sleep with her, he might as well have done it in the hotel foyer and given his guests a show.God, I was furious. But why?I hated feeling this unsettled, this worked up.I spent the day watching him
MONIQUEI stepped into my apartment, package in hand, and tossed my keys on the counter. The box from Liam sat in front of me, taunting me with its presence. I stared at it, nearly burning a hole through the cardboard and that ridiculous little bow tied neatly on top. There was a note attached to the outside—short and simple."Care to join me for dinner tomorrow night? L."I rolled my eyes, crumpling the card in my hand. Typical Liam. Always trying to charm his way out of being the lying, manipulative bastard he was.I resisted the urge to throw the box across the room and instead carefully untied the bow, opening it slowly. Inside was a gown—an absolutely stunning, expensive looking dinner gown. The fabric was smooth, luxurious, the kind that would drape perfectly against my skin. Alongside it were a pair of delicate sandal heels, equally expensive, and a spa and salon day treatment access card tucked beneath them.I almost scoffed. How predictable. Of course, he'd send something ove
LIAMI stared at the text from Monique, my pulse quickening as I read her short and simple reply: "Pick me up at seven." It felt like an indirect acceptance of my invitation—an indication that she had agreed to the dinner I had arranged.A date, huh?I wasn't one for dating; I had never believed in commitment or the vulnerabilities that came with it. But somehow, Monique had managed to slip under my skin. She impressed me in ways I hadn't expected, and now I found myself looking forward to our time together more than I cared to admit.As I climbed into the backseat of the car, I signaled for my driver to head to her apartment. The city zipped by outside, but my mind was fixated on her.I couldn't wait to see her in the dress I picked out for her. Could I charm her beyond the sex invitations I always presented her with? A part of me wanted to keep things professional, yet another part was desperate to see that spark in her eyes again.When we arrived, I stepped out and straightened my
LIAMAs I watched Monique, a smirk crept across my face. It was amusing to think she might be a bit jealous of Blanca. The pieces started clicking into place. "I take it you finally met Blanca," I said casually, gauging her reaction.She feigned disinterest, but I could see right through it—the slight twitch in her smile, the way her eyes narrowed just a bit. "I guess," she replied, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice.I leaned in, enjoying the banter. "You're jealous, aren't you?""Of her? Please," she shot back, but I could see the blush creeping up her cheeks. The more she denied it, the more I was convinced."Just so you know, Blanca is a married woman," I said, a teasing note in my voice.Monique crossed her arms, a challenge sparking in her eyes. "So, you're her mistress, then?"Her statement should have annoyed me, but instead, it struck me as funny. I laughed lightly. "Not quite. Blanca and I haven't had anything for years, not since she married one of my biggest inves
MONIQUEOnce, I had a crush on this boy in college. I never made it obvious, never gave myself the chance to even hope that he knew I existed. I was a loner—an orphan who'd lost everything in one day. Friends? They were a foreign concept to me, not in ballet school, not in college, and certainly not during my second degree. I often looked back, wondering how I managed to survive it all with no one but Richardson and my godfather by my side.But then, one day, he noticed me. The boy, who I thought would never even glance my way, asked me out, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like things were finally different. We had a one-month relationship—brief, but it meant everything to me at the time. And when we finally had sex, I thought it had brought us closer. I'd opened up to him that night and told him about the worst moment of my life—how my parents were killed right in front of me.But the next morning, he was gone. He never spoke to me again. Every time he passed me in the halls after
MONIQUE"...Monique," someone whispered.My heart was pounding before I even opened my eyes. The sheets clung to me, damp with sweat, as I struggled to remember where I was. I gripped the mattress beneath me, trying to steady my breathing, but the panic had already set in—raw and unshakable. My name echoed again, softer this time, cutting through the haze of fear.I jolted awake, like I'd been falling and had finally hit the ground. My eyes shot open, locking onto a pair of dark green eyes on a face that was vaguely familiar. I let out a scream. Loud. Desperate."Shh... shh, Monique, it's me. You're having a nightmare," Liam's cooed softly. But I stared at him—stared into the eyes of my parents' killer, the man who had ripped my world apart.Tears blurred my vision, hot and unstoppable, as the memories of the nightmare crashed down around me. The nightmare, the terror—it was him. And here he was, of all people, comforting me through the very nightmare he had caused.I trembled in his
MONIQUEI woke up alone on the couch, wrapped in one of Liam's soft throws. For a second, I was disoriented, blinking against the early morning light streaming in through the large windows of his penthouse. My muscles were stiff, but the fabric felt warm, comforting even. I tried to piece together the events of the previous night. I remembered making dinner, pasta. We ate, talked, and eventually drifted off to sleep on the couch. But then... I remembered the nightmare, or at least fragments of it. I didn't remember waking up, but Liam's voice came back to me, soft and reassuring, trying to calm me. Why was I still having these nightmares? I thought I had come to terms with this relationship between us, even if I was still out to avenge my parents' deaths.The door to the living room creaked, and I glanced up to see Liam walking in, dressed sharply in his suit, ready for work. He looked like th
LIAMMonique had been spending more time than usual in my penthouse. We were unofficially a vanilla couple. It was unspoken, but we'd fallen into this rhythm, as if we were a couple without the labels. Her toothbrush stood next to mine in the bathroom, her delicate lace underwear mixed in with my clothes in a drawer she'd claimed. I wasn't sure what to make of it, but I didn't hate it. In fact, part of me liked it more than I wanted to admit.I rolled over on a lazy Sunday morning, blinking against the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Monique's voice, soft and playful, reached my ears. She was on the phone, probably with Sophie. I could hear them giggling about something, but I couldn't make out the details. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, but it didn't last. My thoughts had a way of drifting back to darker places lately.My sister.
LIAMThe call came in the middle of the afternoon, just as I was sitting at my desk, scrolling through documents that didn't hold my attention. Work had become monotonous these days—like I was just going through the motions, trying to keep up appearances. I answered the phone without checking the number, expecting one of my contacts or maybe even Felix."Liam Sterling?" The voice on the other end was firm, professional."Yeah. Who's this?""This is Detective Crater from the Queens Police Department. We've never met, but I've been looking into your sister's case—Marie Sterling."The mention of her name hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. My hand tightened around the phone, knuckles turning white. "What are you talking about? That case has been closed for years.""I know. It's been nine years since th
MONIQUEI had control issues, and ballet school made me become a perfectionist. When I started getting bullied, our dance instructor from Italy—Costanza—had made a joke about my weight. She told me I was missing steps because I had fat arms and calves. The girls laughed and they used it to make fun of me every single day till I left that school.This made me a control freak. If things didn't go my way, I would want to tear things apart. But while I was in hiding, Don Antonio had a girlfriend, she was French and she was a lot younger than him and closer to my age. We bonded, in a way. She was a ballet instructor, too, and one of the few people who didn't make me feel inadequate. She showed me how to use my frustration and lack of control to fuel something productive, something that could center me.My years in hiding taught me more than patience and strategy. They tau
MONIQUEI arrived at the hotel café, scanning the room for Richardson. He was already seated at a corner table, blending in with the upscale surroundings of my hotel. His eyes caught mine the moment I walked in, and he gave me a quick nod, his face calm.I walked over, and without a word, took the seat across from him. He opened his mouth to speak, but I raised a hand, cutting him off before he could even start."How could you be so sloppy?" I asked, my voice low but sharp. "Your name, Richardson. They know it. Charles."His jaw tightened, and he sat back, crossing his arms. "I didn't reveal my name," he replied, his voice just as controlled as mine. "The messenger I sent must have picked it up somewhere after the agreement was made. I didn't hand it over."I leaned forward, narrowing my eyes at him. "Do you have any idea what k
MONIQUEHis words echoed in my head like a constant siren. I can't let you go.I hadn't fully recovered from Liam's confessions the other day. The intensity of his emotions, his possessiveness—it was almost too much. And yet here I was, tangled up with him again, our bodies intertwined in the sheets of his penthouse bed. The city hummed outside, but in this moment, it felt like we were in our own world.The sharp ring of the doorbell cut through the silence, stirring Liam awake. His body shifted beside mine, and I felt the absence of his warmth as he slid out of bed. I watched through half-open eyes as he grabbed a pair of pants from the chair nearby. He moved with the quiet confidence of someone always in control, even in the early morning hours.He glanced back at me once before leaving the bedroom, his gaze lingering, then disappeared into the hallway to answer the door.Through the muffled walls, I could make out the low murmur of voices. It was Felix. My pulse quickened. I couldn
MONIQUEThe number of work meetings had drastically reduced. As Liam's assistant, I not only gained access to his world but also front-row seats to the spectacle of it crumbling, piece by piece. Each passing day, I watched as the empire he had meticulously built seemed to unravel, and though I was part of it, I couldn't help but feel a certain satisfaction. There was a power in watching someone so formidable brought down by forces they couldn't control.I was seated in my office, scrolling through pictures Sophie had sent of Star. The fluffy Persian was curled up in a ball in one image, playfully batting at a string in another. I smiled absently as I flicked through them. There wasn't much else to do today. Liam had been out handling God-knows-what, and the office felt unusually still, like a quiet before an impending storm.I almost didn't notice when the door opened. Liam walked in, the tension radiating off him like heat from a furnace. I locked my phone and rushed to meet him. He
LIAMAs I stepped into the storage room, the strong smell of blood hit me, a clear reminder of the seriousness of the situation. I rolled up my sleeves, the dim light illuminating the grim scene: Trevor was tied to one chair, his body bruised and battered, while two other men were similarly restrained nearby. My men had done a thorough job. Felix stood at the forefront."Three men," he explained, nodding toward the lifeless form sprawled on the floor, "but one got caught in the shootout and didn't make it." His gaze flicked toward the surviving trio, a predator sizing up his prey.One of the men, a scrappy guy with a wild look in his eyes, squirmed in his chair, a desperate plea creeping into his voice. "Look, I'll cooperate! I'll tell you anything you want to know, just don't kill me."A humorless grin stretched across my face, a reflection of my disdain for his delusions. "You really think you'll walk out of here alive?" I stepped closer, my presence looming over him. "Who sent you?
LIAMThe warehouse was eerily silent when I arrived, tension so thick you could slice through it. The four workers stood before me, a mix of fear and confusion on their faces. I could see it in their eyes—none of them had a clue what was happening, or at least, that's what they wanted me to believe. I wasn't buying it. I didn't trust anyone fully at this point. One of them could've easily been in on it.I looked each one of them in the eye, my gaze hard. "What do you know about the attack?" I asked, my voice even but carrying a sneer.One by one, they fumbled through their answers, all variations of the same thing—we don't know anything, boss. Their voices desperate and nervous. It was hard to tell who was genuinely clueless and who was faking, because I was completely blinded by rage.But I was also not a fool. Trust wasn't something I handed out easily. After what happened, if one person could betray me, then why not all of them? Maybe they were in this together, covering for each o