Savage Love

They say the worst kind of heartbreak doesn’t come from someone you hate—it comes from someone you love so deeply, it rips something out of you when they leave.That was Zane Wilde.I should have walked away the moment he looked at me like that—like he already owned me.His name slid off his lips like both a curse and a promise.Zane Wilde.The man women feared and craved in equal measure.He lit a fire in me I never asked for.And when he touched me, I knew—I would never come out of this whole.He was everything I should have run from: cruelly handsome, dangerously rich, emotionally untouchable.He didn’t enter my life.He infiltrated it—smooth as sin, cold as truth, beautiful as the kind of danger you can’t resist.He didn’t ask for permission.He invaded—my space, my thoughts, my body.And I let him.I thought I had control.I thought I could survive him.But no one survives Zane Wilde.Not untouched.Not unchanged.I was supposed to guard my heart.But love doesn’t follow rules.N

My one-bedroom apartment smelled faintly of coffee and desperation.It wasn’t much—peeling paint on the walls, a couch that had seen better days, and a desk by the window stacked with half-filled notebooks and abandoned drafts. Once, this space had been my creative sanctuary. Words had poured out of me like they were oxygen, stories so alive they kept me awake at night, chasing endings I couldn’t wait to write.But ever since the breakup, that fire had died. My laptop sat on the desk like a tombstone, its blank screen taunting me every time I tried to start again.I hadn’t written in months.And the bills didn’t care about broken hearts or lost muses.So I sat cross-legged on the floor with the day’s newspaper spread around me, circling job listings in red ink like it was 1995 instead of scrolling through endless postings online. I told myself the ritual mattered—the smell of paper, the scratch of a pen, something tangible in a world where everything else felt like it was slipping thr

For one terrifying, intoxicating second, I almost let myself fall.Zane’s nearness was a living thing, heavy and consuming. His hand skimmed over my waist as though he was mapping every curve for memory. His breath ghosted against my skin, warm, daring, promising. My pulse drummed like a war cry, begging me to either run or give in—anything but stay caught in this unbearable limbo.Then his lips brushed the corner of mine. Not a kiss. Not really. Just the cruelest whisper of what could be, a taste of the danger I had been trying so hard to resist. My body betrayed me, leaning closer, craving the contact even as my mind screamed at me to pull back.I could feel his erection poke my abdomen, and my panties pooled with my juice as a response. He lifted me up against the door until his erection was directly rubbing against my core.He moved slowly, and the friction drove me crazy. I was this close to surrender.And I might have. I might have surrendered—If not for the sudden, sharp vibra

My heels clicked softly against the polished marble as I followed Elise down the corridor toward the PR wing. The Executive Floor felt different from everywhere else — colder, sharper, like every wall had the ability to remember your secrets.“This way,” Elise said, smiling politely. “Your team has been expecting you.”Expecting me.That word made my stomach dip.Everyone here knew Zane Wilde didn’t “expect” anything — he commanded it.Which meant the moment I walked into the department, every pair of eyes would be wondering who I was… and why the CEO had chosen me.We stepped into a spacious, glass-walled conference room buzzing with energy.Five people sat around the long table.Five heads turned toward the door when I entered.Immediately, the atmosphere shifted.Some faces lit up with curiosity.Others stiffened in thinly veiled annoyance.Elise introduced me.“This is Vivian Upton. She’ll be joining us as a PR Consultant.”A girl with auburn curls and warm brown eyes grinned wide

I spent the next morning avoiding mirrors.Because every time I caught my reflection, all I saw was the girl who let her boss take her apart in his office — the girl who let Zane Wilde kiss her like she belonged to him.Almost.Almost more than a kiss.Almost a mistake I would’ve never recovered from.If Clarisaa hadn’t knocked on the damn door, interrupting the way Zane’s hands were already sliding under my blouse, I wasn’t sure what would’ve stopped us.No… I knew exactly what would’ve stopped us.Nothing.And that terrified me.So I stayed busy — or pretended to — hiding in corners of the PR floor, reorganizing files that didn’t need reorganizing, and taking long routes to avoid the executive elevators. But by noon, my luck shattered with three soft knocks on my cubicle wall.“Vivian?”My supervisor, peeked in with a too-bright smile. “You’re traveling with Mr. Wilde this afternoon.”My heart plummeted to my stomach. “I—Sorry? Traveling?”“Yes. The Switzerland partnership wants a f