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
LIAMWhat were these feelings?I wasn't used to opening up to anyone, much less a woman. No one knew about my past—except maybe Felix, but even with him, there were limits to how much I let him in. What the hell was happening to the barricade I'd put up?Why the hell had I told Monique my life story? What was it about her that made me let my guard down? I'd need to keep an eye on that. Monitor myself, make sure I didn't go too far.I'd never taken a woman out on a date. Never spent the night in the same bed with anyone—until her. From the moment I woke up after that first night and found her gone, I knew she was trouble. The way her mysterious disappearance unsettled me... I hadn't expected to be affected like that.Now, I was at a crossroads. I could either let her in completely, or I could cut her out of my life before things got out of hand. But the idea of pushing her away made my pulse race, and not in the good way. No, I wanted her close—too damn much. When she woke up, screamin
MONIQUEStanding in my hotel lobby, watching it thrive, gave me a rare sense of satisfaction. The place was bustling—guests flowing in and out, the hum of conversation and clinking glasses filling the air. I couldn't help but smile behind my aviators, a magazine in hand, blending into the scene as if I were just another guest.I took a sip of my coffee, pretending to be absorbed in the article, while in reality, I was taking in every detail of the operation. I had taken a break to meet Richardson, curious to see how the hotel ran in my absence. It was running smoothly, better than I could have hoped.For now, no one in the lobby seemed to notice me. To the staff and guests, I was just another customer, lounging at the café with my croissant and magazine, waiting for a ride or perhaps passing the time. Perfect.Richardson slid into the seat across from me, giving a brief nod before leaning in. "By the hint of a smile on your face, I take it you're quite impressed by the workings and bu
LIAMI wanted to ask her who the hell that guy was, but I held back. Not because I didn't care—I did.A lot.But the real question was whether it was even my business. I'd asked her once if she was sleeping with someone else. She never gave me a straight answer, and I didn't push it. Still, seeing her slip out of a man's car looking guilty made me wonder why we never talked about it again after that day.If she was in a relationship, then I had no business sniffing around her panties, and she had no business taunting me and flashing said panties in my face all day, everyday like she wasn't getting enough from her man.I've stolen, lied, and done whatever it took to get to the top. But I wasn't the type to take another man's woman. Yet, here I was, fuming and mad with jealousy. Because I wanted her, and I hated the idea of anyone else having what I thought should be mine.Seeing what I'd just witnessed only made an already bad day worse—all because of her. Felix had called me earlier w
MONIQUEWalking out of Liam's office, I felt a strange mixture of pride, relief, and confusion swirling in my chest. Pride because I was getting damn good at this. Standing there while he questioned me about the false intel, I had feigned ignorance and even a bit of self-reproach like a seasoned pro. My face didn't betray a thing, even though my heart had been pounding the entire time.The relief washed over me as soon as I stepped out. He hadn't questioned me about anything more serious, hadn't pressed me about Richardson, even. I'd been worried all afternoon that he was on to me, that somehow, he'd pieced things together and I was moments away from my cover being blown. I mean, with the strange way Felix had been staring at me when he came. But no. It had just been about the fake information.Why hadn't he brought up Richardson? I'd half expected him to corner me about it the second I walked in. I had already rehearsed some explanation, prepared to lie through my teeth. But it never
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