LOGINJust imagine… You’re eighteen, innocent, and hopelessly devoted to the boy you thought would be your forever. You trusted him with every part of yourself. Loved him enough to ignore the strange late-night disappearances, the secrets, the distance growing between you. Until the night you followed him into a luxury hotel suite… and your entire world shattered. Because you weren’t walking in on another girl. You were walking in on your boyfriend wrapped around Julian Voss — the infamous billionaire every magazine in the country worshipped. And Julian Voss was drunk enough not to remember a thing. The next morning, he wakes up beside you instead. He looks into your eyes and believes you were the one in his bed. The one he touched. The one he wanted. Not Cal. You should tell him the truth. You should walk away. And suddenly revenge tastes sweeter than heartbreak.
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“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 acting distant since the day he got a job here, drifting away from her like a boat lost at sea. Emma never wanted to lose her relationship; she was just eighteen and naive, clinging to the boy she thought was her forever. But the excuses had become too much to bear. Cal had refused to show up for her eighteenth birthday and then left her standing alone in her dress for the high school prom, claiming work was too busy. She was here to confront him, to demand why he was throwing away three years of love for a paycheck. As she walked into the bar, the atmosphere hit her like a physical wave. Everywhere was filled with elite men, high-end strippers, and people who moved with the kind of confidence only money could buy. She felt out of place in her simple clothes, her eyes searching the crowded room for a familiar face. She spotted one of Cal’s colleagues, a guy she had met once or twice when Cal first started. When she asked for him, the man pointed toward the elevators with a knowing look. He told her he had just seen Cal going up to deliver a drink to a guest in room 901, and something about the way he said it made Emma’s stomach churn. She didn't wait for a second thought; she headed straight for the elevator, the numbers climbing until the doors opened onto the ninth floor. She walked down the quiet corridor, her sneakers silent on the plush carpet. As she reached the door of room 901, she heard it—the heavy, rhythmic sounds of stroking and the unmistakable moans of a man in the throes of passion. The door wasn't fully latched, leaving a sliver of the room visible. Emma leaned in, her breath hitching as she saw the scene inside. It wasn't just a betrayal; it was a revelation that destroyed everything she believed. She saw Cal, her Cal, wrapped around Julian Voss. In that moment, the magazines she had always seen in Cal’s room flashed through her mind. She had thought Julian was just his role model or a business icon he admired. Now she realized the magazines were a roadmap for his obsession. Cal was using her, using her girlhood and her innocence to protect his sexuality while he hunted the man he truly desired. Emma’s heart felt dead, the warmth in her chest replaced by a cold, sharp ice. She backed away from the door, her vision blurring as she looked for a place to hide. She found a small service alcove just as the door to room 901 opened. She watched from the shadows, her hand clamped over her mouth to keep from screaming as Cal stepped out. He looked flushed and triumphant, a smug smile on his face as he adjusted his shirt and walked toward the elevators without a hint of guilt. He didn't look like a man who had just cheated; he looked like a man who had finally arrived. Emma waited until the elevator dinged and he was gone, her grief transforming into a dark, focused rage. If Cal wanted Julian Voss so badly that he was willing to treat her like a disposable cover, she would give him a reason to truly hurt. She decided right there that she wouldn't just leave. She would take the one thing he valued most. She wanted Cal to feel the agony of being replaced by the very girl he thought was too naive to notice his lies. Emma stepped into the room, the smell of expensive bourbon and sex hanging in the air. Julian was sprawled on the bed, his eyes closed in a drunken sleep, looking like a king who had been brought low. Emma walked to the side of the bed and sat down, her shadow falling over the man her boyfriend wanted. She reached out and placed her hand on Julian’s chest, waiting for the billionaire to wake up.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 6The dining room of the Voss estate was a cathedral of excess, under a chandelier that spilled harsh, elegant light over everything. A table so long it felt like a runway. The help had set the surface with varieties of food Emma had never seen in her life, let alone tasted. There were platters of roasted chicken glistening in juices, crystal bowls filled with exotic fruits, decanters of thick milk, and mounds of seafood that smelled of salt and butter. She looked at the spread and realized she had genuinely forgotten the last time she had eaten a meal that didn't come out of a dented can or a greasy paper bag. For a second, the sheer abundance made her stomach churn with a mix of hunger and resentment. This was the world Julian lived in every day, while she had been counting pennies for bread.She sat across from Julian, the distance between them at the table feeling like a physical barrier she was more than happy to maintain. This was her first formal dinner in the estate,
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 4 The black Maybach returned to Emma’s damp, crumbling street, looking like a sleek obsidian predator among the rusted cars and cracked pavement. This time, Emma didn't duck her head or try to slip away through the shadows. She walked out of the front door with a single bag clutched in her hand, her posture straight and her gaze fixed on the luxury vehicle waiting for her. From the window, she could feel Bella’s eyes burning into her back, fuming with a jealousy that felt like a physical heat. Her step-sister had been a whirlwind of silent rage since seeing the gold-embossed Voss estate card earlier, and now, seeing the reality of a billionaire’s car idling on their street, the envy was clearly pushing her toward a breaking point. Before Emma could reach the curb, the front door creaked open and her mother stumbled out onto the porch. She looked miserable, her hair a bird's nest and her clothes stained from another night spent hunched over a card table. She moved with a d
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