THE MAN MY BOYFRIEND WANTED

Book 1 “Fuck me hard,” Cal’s voice could be heard from inside room 901, the sound muffled by the thick wood but sharp enough to pierce the quiet of the luxury hallway. “Yeah,” he moaned as Julian stroked him deep, his voice dropped low with a pleasure he had never once shared with the girl waiting for him at home. This was the dream Cal had built his entire life around. Julian Voss had been his crush for decades, an obsession that went far beyond mere admiration. From stalking him through society pages to learning his favorite high-end bar, Cal had calculated every move. He had taken a job at this hotel with one goal in mind: making Julian drink to a stupor and finally having him. For Cal, tonight was the ultimate victory, the moment he finally possessed the man he had worshipped from afar while using his ordinary life as a shield. Outside, Emma looked up at the five-star hotel, her heart already sinking at the sheer opulence of the building. Cal had been ignoring her calls and

Book 3Julian was not a man who allowed things he valued to simply slip through his fingers, and by the time Emma had finished her coffee, he had already decided she wasn't leaving the hotel alone. He watched her with an intensity that bordered on obsession, convinced that he had stumbled upon a rare kind of purity in a city that usually tried to bleed him dry. He didn’t care that he barely knew her; he cared that he felt anchored for the first time in years. Despite Emma’s insistence that she could find her own way back, Julian wouldn't hear of it. He summoned his personal driver, a silent man who moved with military precision, and gave him strict instructions to see Emma safely to her front door. Julian stood by the bed, his silk robe hanging loosely on his frame, and watched her go with a look that promised this was only the beginning of their arrangement.The transition from the gold-leafed luxury of the hotel to the service hallway was jarring, but it was nothing compared to t

Book 5 The Voss estate wasn't just a house; it was a fortress of glass and limestone that sat on a hill, overlooking the city like it owned every soul within it. When the Maybach pulled through the massive iron gates, Emma felt a sharp prick of fear. She had played the game well so far. Julian was waiting for her in the grand foyer, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looked far more composed than the man she had seen in the hotel room. He didn't greet her with a hug or a kiss; he didn't even offer a welcoming smile. Instead, he greeted her with a look of quiet possession, his eyes scanning her as if she were a piece of land he had just acquired. He had already cleared out an entire wing for her, a suite of rooms larger than her mother’s entire house, filled with art that probably cost more than her mother’s life. Julian didn't want her hidden away in some hotel where he had to travel to see her; he wanted her here, under his roof, where he could monitor every brea

Book 7The damp, cramped house on the edge of town didn't just feel empty; it felt like it was rotting from the inside out now that the person who held the walls together was gone. It was long past midnight when the front door groaned on its hinges and Emma’s mother stumbled inside, smelling of cheap gin and the stale air of the gambling house. She was in a foul, drunken state, her eyes bloodshot and her movements erratic. Usually, Emma would be there to catch her, to steer her toward the bed and scrub the vomit off the floor before it could stain the wood.Tonight, Stella tripped over a pile of discarded mail and went down hard, letting out a jagged scream of frustration that echoed through the thin, peeling walls.In her drunken stupor, Stella didn’t see her own failure; she only saw Emma’s absence as a personal betrayal. She began to rain down abuses and curses, her voice rising to a shrill, hysterical pitch that made the windows rattle. “Ungrateful, selfish brat!” she shrieked, t

Book 9The silence that followed Julian’s departure didn’t last more than a few seconds. As soon as the front door thudded shut, the professional distance Cal had maintained vanished. He abandoned his post by the sideboard and walked close to where Emma sat, his shadow falling over her breakfast plate. He looked down at her with a face twisted by a mixture of grief and pure malice, unable to handle the sight of her sitting in a chair he felt she had stolen.“You think Julian Voss is in love with you?” Cal asked, his voice low and vibrating with a bitterness he could no longer hide. “He is probably using you. Men like him don’t love women from the slums, Emma. They don't marry them, and they certainly don't keep them. Watch till the day he finds out you weren’t the one in that bed. You’re just a cover for him, Emma, like you were for me. He just needs you as a sex toy. Nothing else. Just a sex puppet.”Emma didn't flinch. She picked up her glass of juice and took a slow sip, her eyes