LOGIN“No! I don’t care if you buy me the city skyline, Jason. I’d still tell you to fuck off.” Jason Hale smirked. “What if I bought you the moon?” Samantha Torres’ life isn’t what she planned. Once a top science student, she now waits tables to pay off debt and care for her family. And the one wound she’s never healed? Jason, the man she loved in college, who cheated and broke her heart. Now, five years later, Jason is back. He’s heir to a billion–dollar empire and determined to win her again. He claims he’s changed, and he tempts her with lavish gifts, promises, and the same charm that once ruined her. But Jason has dangerous secrets, and Samantha swore that she would never fall for him again. Until her brother’s gambling debt pulls the mob to her doorstep…and Jason becomes the only man who can save her. Now she is drawn back into his world of wealth and risk, and Samantha finds herself torn between old wounds and new desires. But enemies circle fast: his ruthless twin, the woman who once came between them, and a rival who wants her for himself. Will Samantha walk away from Jason, or will she risk everything to find out if love is worth the danger?
View More“Where the fuck have you been?”
Jason leaned against the doorframe, arms folded tight over his chest, blocking her way in. Samantha’s bones ached as the weight of the bookbag on her shoulders. She felt so tired that her legs shook, and her stomach hurt with hunger. She’d been awake since before dawn, first a shift at the coffee shop, then back-to-back geology labs for six hours, before sprinting across town to her tutoring gig, all to keep her scholarship safe and to chip away at the mountain of medical bills waiting back home. All she wanted to do was collapse on her mattress and sleep like the dead for a few hours before dragging herself to her night shift, but it looked like Jason wanted to ruin any chances of that, just like he ruined everything else. Samantha froze in the doorway, the strap of her bag sliding off her shoulder. “Don’t start,” she muttered. “I can’t do this right now.” “You can’t do this right now? Samantha, it’s the fifth night in a row you’ve barely set foot in this apartment. You don’t come home, you don’t answer my calls, and when you do show up, you look like you’ve been anywhere but at work. What the hell am I supposed to think?” Her pulse spiked as she set her bag down with a heavy thud and closed the door behind her. “You’re supposed to think I’m busy, Jason. Because I am. Between classes, work, and the scholarship, I barely have time to breathe. I’m not out there having fun.” He stepped closer, his jaw tightening. “Busy, huh? Is that what you call it? Or is there someone else?” Samantha shoved past him, “Nobody. There’s nobody. Move.” “DON’T LIE TO ME, SAM!” He shouted at the top of his voice. She blinked, stunned, then barked out a laugh so sharp it made her throat hurt. “Are you kidding me? You think I have time to cheat? I can barely scrape enough hours together to sleep most days!” “Well, what do you expect me to think?!” he continued, his voice rising even more. “All I know is that the girl I’m living with, my girlfriend of 3 years, doesn’t give a damn about me anymore. You’re always gone, Samantha. Always.” “I asked you to come to dinner with my parents, but you blew it off. I asked you to show up for my game, but you didn’t even text me back. You can’t even keep one date. Do you know how pathetic it feels to sit there alone while everyone asks where my girlfriend is?” Her muscles stiffened as she got angrier and angrier while he spoke. “Pathetic? You want to talk about pathetic? Try juggling two jobs, a full course load, and scholarship requirements while drowning in debt and sending half your paycheck back home to keep bill collectors off your mother’s back. Try that, Jason, and then come tell me about pathetic.” Somewhere in the wall behind them, a fist pounded hard. A muffled, furious voice roared: “Shut the fuck up! It’s midnight, must you two fight every damn night?” Another neighbour chimed in as her baby started crying out. “Apartment 14! You people woke my baby up again with your arguing! Now I have to spend forever rocking her back to sleep!” “Shut up and mind your business!” Jason roared towards the neighbours, then turned back on her, moving in closer, his eyes blazing as he leaned down to get eye-level with her. “This isn’t about your bills, it's not about your stupid rocks. This is about us. Or don’t we matter anymore?” “Don’t call them stupid!” Samantha yelled, taking offence as he mocked her passion. “They’re fucking stupid, Samantha. Stupid rocks. I don’t give a fuck what you geologist students choose to call them instead.” “How dare you?” Samantha’s voice sharpened. She took off her hoodie in one sharp motion, heat rising in her chest. “Those rocks are the reason I even have a future. They’re the reason I got out of the mess I grew up in, and the only thing standing between me and poverty, Jason. If you can’t understand that, then maybe you don’t understand me at all.” Another voice came muffled through the thin wall: “For Christ’s sake, get a divorce already!” followed by mocking laughter. Jason grabbed at her arm, this time desperate. “I’m not the enemy, Samantha. I’m your boyfriend. All I want is some damn attention. I want to feel like I matter more than… than some fucking moon rocks!” She yanked her arm free, already unbuttoning her jeans with jerky, angry movements. “Don’t touch me. You aren’t entitled to me every second of the day just because we happen to be dating!” She stripped out of her jeans, standing in her underwear as she tore open a drawer for fresh clothes. “What are you doing?” Jason demanded. “Getting ready for my shift, since one of us actually has to pay the rent around here!” she retorted, lifting one shirt, sniffing it, then discarding it on the overflowing pile of dirty laundry. His tone shifted; this time, he tried pleading with her instead. “What about Friday? You promised we would have dinner. Just the two of us, like old times.” “I’ll go,” she snapped, pulling on new pants and tugging a clean shirt over her head. Her voice was harsh. “There. Happy? Friday. I’ll go.” “You said that last time. And the time before that.” His voice cracked; it sounded softer now but still laced with resentment. “You never show up, Samantha. You always find some excuse.” “Because I’m busy!” She shoved her arms through the sleeves of her work apron, tying it with trembling fingers. “What the hell do you want from me? Huh?! Do you want me to quit school? Drop my scholarship? Watch my parents rot under hospital bills while I serve lattes for the rest of my life?!” “Of course, I’ll lose everything I’ve been working for and have to go home empty-handed! But at least I’ll be following you around all day, talking about your game. That’s what you want, huh?!” “Of course not! All I’m asking for is---" She grabbed her beat-up, old sneakers, shoving her feet in without untying the laces, hands trembling with fury. “I don’t care what you want, Jason. It was a rhetorical question.” Jason’s fists slammed against the wall, rattling a cheap picture frame. The old lady upstairs stomped on the floorboards, “Some of us work in the morning, you animals! Shut the hell up!” “See? Even they know how toxic you are,” Jason growled, his chest heaving. He stepped in front of the door, blocking her path. “I’m not your enemy. Moon rocks won’t keep you warm at night. I’m the one who loves you. And if you keep treating me like I’m nothing, Samantha, one day I’ll walk away. I swear to God I will!” Her laugh was bitter and hollow as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “Promise?” His eyes widened, as if she’d struck him. “Wow,” he whispered. “Wow?” She lifted her chin, fire pouring out of every tired muscle in her body. “You don’t get to play the victim when you corner me, accuse me of cheating, and act like I’m some prize you’re entitled to. You’re a selfish, clingy bastard, Jason. And I don’t have time for this.” She shoved past him, yanked the door open, and spun to face him one last time. Her voice cut through the paper-thin walls, sharp enough to silence the muffled chuckles and curses from the neighbours for one sweet moment. “Maybe there was a time when we used to be happy, but it looks like that time passed a long time ago. You’ll never be anything but a distraction, Jason, and I don’t do distractions. Not anymore.” She slammed the door so hard the frame shook. Jason’s curses echoed on the other side, but Samantha was already stomping down the hall, her heart hammering with fury. “Fuck you, Jason. Fuck this apartment. Fuck everything!” She pulled out her coffee shop cap from her bag, stuffed it over her greasy hair, and, without looking, marched straight into a moving car.The apartment was small, cramped, and smelled of stale coffee and hot electronics. It was located on the third floor of a building in downtown San Francisco, hidden behind a neon sign that flickered in the rain. Inside, there were no lights except for the glow of twelve computer monitors; this was the "nest" of the Disconnect: a group of people who lived in the spaces between the rules.Jax sat in the center of the glow. He was twenty-four years old with messy hair and eyes that hadn't seen a full night’s sleep in a week. To the rest of the world, Jax didn't exist because he had no bank account, no driver’s license, and no social media profile; however, to those who knew where to look, Jax was the best "eye" in the city.On his main screen, a simple graph of weather data from Oakland was dancing. The wind speed was jumping in a pattern that made no sense for a storm."Did you see that?" Miri asked. She was sitting at a desk made of old wooden pallets, her fingers flying across a keybo
The air in the living room felt like it had been turned into stone. Silas Hale stood by the open door while the rain misted behind him like a silver curtain; he didn’t look like a man who was almost a hundred years old. Instead, he resembled a statue made of ancient wood: thin, hard, and impossible to break. His eyes were not like Jason’s, for Jason’s eyes were full of heat and anger, whereas Silas’s eyes were like two pieces of glass at the bottom of a frozen lake. They saw everything, but they felt nothing.In the corner of the room, tucked away near the shadows of the dining table, Adrian sat perfectly still. His laptop was still open, but the screen was dark; he knew that any move he made would be watched. Silas had already shown that he owned the guards, the house, and perhaps even the very air they were breathing.Silas was talking to Samantha in a low, smooth hum. He spoke about "future" and "legacy" as if he were describing a garden he planned to plant; he didn't seem to care
"He's at the safe house," Franklin whispered. "He drugged the guards. He walked right past them like they were statues. He sent me here to give you a message, Jason. He said he’s disappointed."The air in the small room suddenly felt very thin. Jason felt the world tilt. His grandfather, Silas Hale, was the stuff of legends. He was a man who didn't believe in love, or loyalty, or family. He believed in systems. He believed in building machines that could last for centuries. To Silas, people were just parts. And if a part was broken, you threw it away."What did he say?" Jason asked, his voice a ghost of itself."He said you were a 'small vision,'" Franklin replied, reciting the words like a death sentence. "He said you let a woman and a university researcher take down an empire because you were distracted by your own emotions. He said you were a liability."Jason felt a surge of primal anger. "I built the company into a global powerhouse! I tripled the net worth! I did everything—""Y
The walls of the federal holding cell were painted a color that was supposed to be calming. It was a pale, sickly green that reminded Jason of a stagnant pond. There were no windows, no walnut desks, and no high-speed data feeds. The only sound was the constant, low hum of the ventilation system and the distant, metallic clang of doors opening and closing.Jason sat on the edge of the narrow cot, his hands folded in his lap. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit that felt like sandpaper against his skin. For a man who had spent his entire life in tailored silk and hand-stitched leather, the weight of the cheap fabric was a constant insult. But it wasn't the clothes that were breaking him. It was the silence.He had spent the last forty-eight hours trying to calculate a way out. He had run the numbers a thousand times in his head. He thought he knew every variable. He thought he knew who had betrayed him and why. He blamed Samantha for her defiance. He blamed Adrian for his persistence. He












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