TWISTED OBESSION: MY FIANCE CHEATED SO I SLEPT WITH HIS BOSS

ELARAI slammed the shot glass on the counter so hard that I'm sure a crack shot across the rim.“Another,” I ordered.My voice sounded so hoarse, scraped raw, and barely human.Three hours of crying will do that to a person. Three years of betrayal will kill the rest.The bartender...a wiry guy with a snake tattoo curling up his throat...shakes his head. “Sorry, sweetheart. Boss says you’re cut off.”I laugh, a cracked sound. “Boss? What boss?” His eyes flicked behind me, like someone stood there holding a loaded gun to his spineI followed his stare through the blur of neon lights and bodies, but I only saw a shadow move behind smoked glass. But I don’t care. I need another drink, or I’ll drown in my own heartbeat.I shoved the empty glass forward.“Pour. It’s a simple job.”He didn’t move. His Adam’s apple bobbed.“I’m not drunk.”God, I wish I were.If I were drunk enough, I might forget walking in on my boyfriend screwing my twin sister in my apartment. I might forget the sound o

ELARAI lose count after the fourth or fifth orgasm. Time dissolves into sweat and teeth and the wet slap of bodies. At some point, he ties my wrists to the headboard with his belt. At another, he spreads me open on the bathroom counter, watching in the mirror as he takes me apart with his tongue. We were at it the whole time, only stopping to eat and refuel. He feeds me from his fingers in the kitchen, then bends me over the marble island and licks the juice from my thighs before sliding back inside. I return the favor on my knees in the hallway, taking him deep until he fists my hair and groans like an animal. Later, I ride him on the living-room rug, his hands bruising my hips, and my nails carving crescents into his chest until he flips me and finishes with my legs over his shoulders.We christened every surface in his house. The glass dining table. The velvet chaise by the window. The shower wall where he pins me and fucks me until the water runs cold. My body learns muscles I n

ELARABy the time I'm dressed, I look different from how I feel.Professional and put together. Elara Blake, Senior Marketing Manager, and not Elara Blake, the woman who spent the weekend being thoroughly debauched.I put on a black pencil skirt with a tailored blazer and a white silk blouse that has a collar high enough to hide the mark on my neck. I French-braid my hair back into a tight, severe style. Apply makeup with a heavy foundation to hide the exhaustion, concealer for the shadows, and lipstick to draw attention away from my swollen lips.By the time I'm done, I look exactly like I'm supposed to look.With shaky hands, I grab my bag and head for the door.The subway ride into Manhattan feels surreal. I'm surrounded by people living their normal lives, reading the news on their phones, sipping coffee, and complaining about their mundane problems, and I'm standing here trying to process the fact that my entire life has been turned upside down in less than a week.My boyfriend c

ELARA "—you."I should pull away and slap his hand off me, and I should remind him that this is insane.But I don't.Because, God help me, some part of me needed to be kissed into oblivion."You belong to me now, Elara. Like I said, I am not done with you.""I don't belong to you," I whisper, but even I can hear how weak it sounds."Don't you?" His grip tightens on my jaw just enough to make his point. "You came to me, Aria. You demanded I take your virginity. You spent three days in my bed, letting me do whatever I wanted to your body. You didn't even bother to ask my name." "I didn't know you were—"

ELARA I stare at the message, fingers hovering over the keyboard. *Yes,* I type. Then delete it. *No,* I type and delete that too. Finally: *How did you know?* Three dots appear immediately. *I know everything about you, Elara. Including the fact that you're still at your desk, thinking too hard about tonight.* I turned to look around the office. Is he watching me somehow? Are they cameras here? Another text: *Relax. I'm not watching you. I just know how your mind works. You're overthinking this.* *There's a lot to think about,* I send back. *Stop thinking. Just come to me.* My hands are shaking. *This is insane.* *Yes.* *We could both lo