The Billionaire Bastards and their Innocent Obsession

Chapter 1 – The Return“Mommy, are we there yet?” Zariah Fontanelle smoothed a stray curl from her son’s forehead. Michael's brown eyes blinked up at her.“Almost, baby. Just a few more minutes,” she whispered, and smiled as if the past six years she had spent out of NewYork hadn’t been built on guilt and fire.The plane stopped, and everyone busied themselves with their bags in the overhead bins. Zariah rose, her six-inch heels biting into her feet as she and Michael left the airplane. The silk of her gown clung to her olive-toned skin, her long dark hair falling in glossy waves that framed a face no one at Ridgewood High would have recognized.Once upon a time, she had been the plain girl with cheap glasses and secondhand clothes. The girl who smelled like diner grease from her shifts after school. The ugly girl.Not anymore.Zariah stepped into JFK and smiled as Michael darted ahead. They had flown first class, and the departures ahead were free of people. She helped Michael into a

Chapter 3 – Chasing Zariah (Zariah’s POV)“You can’t just walk away from me.”Zariah froze for a second, her hand still on the railing of the balcony. She turned slowly, keeping her face calm. Leonard Blackwell stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking out the light from the ballroom. His jaw was clenched so tightly she could almost hear his teeth grind.Her heart wanted to stutter, but she forced her lips into something between a smirk and a smile. “Watch me,” she said softly. Then she slipped past him. She hadn’t made it far before she felt another presence fall into step beside her.“Running so soon?” Damian Blackwell blocked her path. He held a glass of whiskey.Before she could reply, Leonard caught up. “Damian. Move.”“Or what?” Damian asked lightly, swirling his drink. He glanced at Zariah with a glint that made her skin crawl and her stomach twist. “Tell me, darling, is he the reason you’re trembling under that pretty dress?”Zariah stiffened, annoyed at herself for

Dangerous NightsZariah’s POVThe first frost of winter had settled on New York City. Zariah tightened her scarf and guided Michael’s small hand in hers. “Are you sure about this, Mama?” he asked sleepily, rubbing one eye with his fist.Zariah softened. “You said you wanted something I made, and not from a box, and I've been working all week. Tonight, I’ll make it up to you.”His mouth curved into a tired but hopeful smile. At six years old, Michael was already perceptive, too grown for his age. The fluorescent lights of the twenty-four-hour grocery store spilled across the sidewalk as they approached. Inside, it was nearly empty. A teenager mopped the tiles at the front, humming off-key, and an elderly woman pushed a cart slowly down the cereal aisle.Zariah grabbed a basket, crouched to meet Michael’s eyes and pulled a beanie cap over his head, and whispered, “Stay close, okay? We’ll be quick.”He nodded solemnly. They moved through the aisles, her hands reaching for tomatoes, bas