MasukElena found out her husband was cheating—not from him, but from the headlines. The man didn't even have the decency to keep it in his pants or out of the press. He made her a public joke, expecting her to just sit there and take it. Bad move. Elena didn’t cry. She got busy. She put his mistress in a jumpsuit, took every dime of his money, and handed him the divorce papers with a smile. She was done. Like, officially done with men and their drama. But then, something weird happened. The second she stopped caring, everyone else started obsessing. Now, she’s literally the most wanted woman in the city. We’re talking billionaire heirs, hot surgeons, mysterious bad boys, and even international superstars—all of them tripping over themselves to get her attention. Some have been crushing on her for years, while others are just now realizing what they missed out on. They’re all begging for a chance, but Elena’s not playing the supportive wife anymore. She’s the one holding the remote now, and she’s picky as hell.
Lihat lebih banyakElena’s POVI looked down despite myself, and that’s when I saw them. His six-pack was outlined with insulting clarity under his tight t-shirt. You could see every muscle move with the rhythm of his breathing—a piece of precision machinery radiating the scent of leather, rubber, and skin heated by adrenaline. It was a flat-out insult to my self-control.Renzo let out a muffled laugh, rolling his nicotine gum between his teeth."So, Parisian? Are you taking inventory, or do you want me to sign an autograph on my abs for you?"I felt the blood rush to my cheeks instantly. I looked away, furious at having been caught like a total amateur, and spat back:"You’ve got a hell of a nerve, Moretti. Where do you think you are?"I didn't wait for an answer and bolted into the restaurant. He was right on my heels, with his usual arrogance:"It’s not my fault your eyes wander, Elena. You have to admit you’re a bit of a gawker sometimes. It’s okay, it’s a relief to be honest about it."I stopped de
Elena’s POVThe kid shot a fleeting glance at Renzo, then practically vaulted off his seat as if he’d sat on a hot radiator."Uh, no, sorry! I... I don't know how to ride double. Too risky. Go with the boss."Before I could even protest, the whole gang had roared off in a deafening racket.Renzo smirked. He went to grab a black bike leaning in the corner, brought it to life with a fierce kickstart, and pulled up right in front of me."Well? Are you hitchhiking or getting on?" he asked, holding out a helmet.I snatched it from his hands and shoved it onto my head."I knew this night was going to be a disaster. If Ace didn't show up, it’s definitely because you’re a jinx."Renzo paused. He cocked an eyebrow, looking amused."Oh... so you were actually here to see the Ace?""Obviously. What did you think? That I drove all this way for your benefit? And what are you doing here without a car? Is your friend Blondie a pro racer or something?"He reached out to adjust my helmet, which was si
Elena’s POVStanding next to Renzo was a guy who looked about his age. He had a messy shock of hair, a pale complexion, and a total "baby-face"—the kind of look that hides a lot more than it lets on. He was staring at me with a crooked little smirk, clearly finding the whole situation very entertaining."Oh my God!" Chloé shrieked. "You’re Vent! The rider who just swept the pot!""Guilty," he replied.Then, he turned to Renzo with a curious look."Tell me, Moretti... who’s the lady?"Renzo spat out his lollipop stick with a nonchalant flick."Who do you think? It’s the famous 'Parisian' who’s costing me a small fortune in headaches."I felt my temper flare instantly."Excuse me? Your 'piece of junk' hasn't cost you a cent so far. On the other hand, I'm still waiting to hear how you plan on coughing up for my physical therapy bills and the emotional trauma.""A... piece of junk?"Vent and the little blonde kid stood there like they’d been slapped. They exchanged a look of total, utter
Elena’s POVI’d barely finished my sentence when the girl to my right—wearing a top that was staying up by some kind of miracle—turned to me with wide, sparkling eyes."Don't worry, gorgeous, you’re not the only one. I bet half the girls here would sell their own mothers for an hour with him. Did you see that build? The guy is pure magnetism—a total trouble magnet.""Honestly, if Ace asked me to hop on the back, I wouldn't even have to think about it," another girl added with a sigh. "He’s the ultimate local fantasy."Chloé leaned toward me, whispering:"You're getting ahead of yourself. We don't even know what he looks like under that helmet. Imagine if he takes it off and he’s some fifty-year-old creep?"I smiled, my eyes locked on the dark shadow in the distance. He was talking to one of the organizers, then he hopped back onto his electric scooter. He snapped his visor down with a sharp flick, leaning slightly forward. Ready to pounce."Even from behind, the guy has insane style.












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