She was broke, buried in debt, and desperate to survive. To him, money was the least of his worries. What happens when an Omega and an Extreme Alpha mafia collide in a one-night stand triggered by the goddess? Debts are created, paths intertwine, and the ruthless Alpha who demanded 'compensation' doesn’t just want repayment—he wants her.
View MoreEntering the room, the tidy, humble living room came into view, decorated with two couches and a table she had bought from Facebook Marketplace at a really cheap price. But these different-colored couches weren't what made her stumble, but the man sitting on them. Carlo. The bastard.Anger erupted in her chest, but the sight of Marco, who was sitting at the side, made her keep her cool.She glanced at him. "Go eat some."Marco stood up, taking the cake while winking meaningfully at her. "Uh, I will excuse you two lovebirds then."Once Marco disappeared into the kitchen, the calm facade she wore tore away, and all that was left was resentment. "Why are you here?"Carlo stood up. He had a poker face, and a pair of righteous eyes behind black-framed glasses.All this while, she had thought his heart would be different, and maybe warmer since he was her boyfriend and manager, but it turned out it was as cold as the Arctic. Otherwise, how would he feel comfortable trying to make her bed so
Hours later. Nora's eyes snapped open, bereft of any emotions. Seconds passed before realization slipped in, and she stiffened when she felt the warm figure enveloping her body. The heat had faded, leaving nothing but shock, numbness, and confusion. What had she done? She sat up so suddenly and felt something slipped out of her. That was when she belatedly realized she had his engorged member inside her, and his cum had gushed out along. She blinked in shock, staring at the white liquid like she didn't know what it was. Her expression was almost comical compared to the lustful one she had earlier. The stranger stirred awake at this moment. He became aware almost immediately, and his gaze fixed on her back. He shifted slightly, brows furrowed as he grabbed his phone from beneath the blanket. She flinched when she felt his movement and raised her head, only for her to freeze. A pair of violet eyes collided with her own, deep like an abyss. Sharp brows framed it in perfection,
Her pants slid down her thighs in a slow, sensual motion until they dropped at her ankles. The man's eyes darkened, pulsing with desire. He seized her suddenly, and she felt the world sway then realized she was midair, in his arms, and he was taking her to his bed. She bounced lightly against the mattress when he put her down, but his weight had already followed, looming over her. His hands parted her thighs to form the M shape, leaving her utterly exposed to his stare. Her pussy spasmed as she watched him lick his lips, and she spread herself wider in anticipation of what was about to come. He didn't let her wait for long. He shoved two fingers inside her, and a gasp escaped her lips as she threw her head back. His fingers were thick and long, grazing her walls smoothly. "Mmmmm." She moaned, chest heaving as his fingers worked faster in her. Her body arched off the mattress while he added another finger, touching that sweet spot that made her toes curl. Wet sounds filled the roo
Nora's heart pounded like a drum as she ran to the elevator. She jabbed the button while glancing over her shoulder. She was fearful that Mason's men, whom she had met on the first floor when she first arrived here, would chase after her. When the doors finally slid open, she ran inside and clicked the ground floor button—at least she thought—her fingers shaky and her breath uneven. But as soon as the doors closed, a suffocating wave of heat crashed over her. No, it wasn't the room temperature or whatever, but her heat. She cursed under her breath, her body trembling with panic. It was that cursed, stupid, Alpha-triggering, senseless, horny heat. It pooled low in her belly, fire shooting between her legs. Her knees buckled slightly as she gripped the wall railing for support. Her skin flushed, thighs pressing together on instinct as an unbearable ache lodged between them. Her mouth felt dry, and her breathing had turned shallow. “Shit,” she gasped, covering her mouth because it
"I–I'm feeling tipsy," a woman slurred, her voice echoing in the private room. It was clear she was drunk from the way her head tilted and her hand shook. Beside her sat a middle-aged man in a black suit and glowing bald head. On his face sat a suspiciously wide smile like someone watching their favorite comedy show—except there was no comedy on display. Around his neck hung a dangling golden chain that seemed out of place with what he wore, and his hands were collectively designed with several golden rings. They caught the light of the chandelier with his every movement. On another seat facing the couch was a young man, probably in mid-twenties. He was wearing a simple white shirt and black pants. Compared to the two people who were seemingly dressed to the nines, he appeared to be like an assistant. But no, he wasn't an assistant. His name was Carlo, and he was a small-time manager at Blue Hill Entertainment, managing only a Z–list actress — Nora Ferraro. And meanwhile, the midd
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