LOGINThe Job: Save the career of the man she hates. The Boss: Her arrogant and damaged step-brother. The Rule: One month on a bus and no crossing boundaries. °°•°°•°°•°° Anya Sharma is a professional hater because she gets paid to ruin reputations. As a top music critic, she has spent years dragging Kai Rhodes for his lack of talent and his massive ego. She does not do it for fame but for the money she needs to fund her secret charity for immigrants. It is a noble cause fueled by a very dirty job. But after a career-ending car wreck leaves Kai broken, his manager offers Anya an offer she cannot refuse. She must join the tour and play his loyal assistant while writing a story to save his image. If she succeeds, her charity gets millions. If she fails, she loses everything. Trapped on a luxury bus for thirty days, Anya expects to find a monster. Instead, she finds a man who looks too good in the dark and knows exactly how to push her buttons. They're supposed to despise each others guys, but the tension between them is a live wire ready to snap. Anya thought she was the one in control until she found things she wasn't supposed to find. She thought he was the one she was saving until she realized he was the one setting the trap. Kai knows her secrets and she is starting to love his. But the contract ends in three days and only one of them is getting out with their heart.. and life, intact. PS- Do not read this if you want a sweet and normal romance. Read this if you want to watch a professional hater get wrecked by the one man she is legally supposed to avoid.
View MoreANYA’S POVThe gravel dug into my palms like a thousand tiny shards of broken glass, stinging and sharp, but I didn't make a sound as I stayed as low to the ground as I possibly could. My heart was thundering against my ribs, a wild and frantic rhythm that felt loud enough for the whole world to hear. Just a few yards away, the driver was still standing at the front of the bus, a dark and jagged shape silhouetted against the huge, empty horizon of the desert. He was humming some mindless little tune to himself, completely oblivious to the fact that his "cargo" had just crawled out of the emergency hatch and was currently shivering in the dirt.I didn't try to run for the fence because I knew there was no way I’d make it. Instead, I stayed in the dark and crawled toward the shadows of the building. It wasn't some high-tech facility or a fancy lab; it was just a sad, abandoned roadside motel that looked like it hadn't seen a guest in twenty years. Ethan must have rented it for cash to k
ANYA"If I wanted a lecture on morality, I would’ve stayed in Sunday school, Anya. I certainly wouldn't have hired a girl whose biggest career achievement was getting blacklisted by every major label in the tri-state area."Ethan didn’t even bother to look at me when he said it. He remained perched in the driver’s jump seat of the tour bus, his spine as rigid and unforgiving as a tombstone. His eyes were locked on the black ribbon of the desert road, tracking the high beams like he was searching for a reason to hit something. The sickly green glow from the dashboard bled upward, carving out the sharp, arrogant line of his jaw and making his skin look like cold marble. He looked like a man who had never been told no in his entire life—and he clearly didn't plan on letting a "failed critic" start now."He’s a human being, Ethan. Not a vintage piano you can just retune and polish because you don't like the way the strings are vibrating," I snapped. My throat felt like I’d swallowed a han
Anya's POV The Nebraska panhandle was nothing but a flat, black ocean of silence. Outside the heavy windows of the tour bus, the wind howled across the plains, slamming against the frame until the whole vehicle shuddered. It felt like we were the only living things left in a world that had gone cold and dark. Inside the lounge, the air was even worse—it was thick, stale, and tasted like copper.Ethan hadn’t slept. I could tell by the way he moved—jagged, twitchy, like a man vibrating on a frequency of pure, desperate fury. He was pacing the narrow aisle, his footsteps heavy and rhythmic against the laminate flooring. His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with a raw redness that made him look less like a high-powered manager and more like a predator backed into a corner.In his hand, he gripped the satellite bridge. He’d found it."I’m going to ask one more time," Ethan said. His voice wasn't loud. It was a low, dangerous crawl that set my teeth on edge.He stopped directly over Lila. She w
The intermission at the Omaha Heritage Center was a sea of clinking champagne glasses and hushed, respectful murmurs. To the audience, the first half of the show had been a triumph of "recovery." Kai had played with a technical perfection that was almost eerie, his face a mask of serene focus that made the donors weep with relief.Ethan was currently in the VIP lounge, holding court with a group of local investors, his chest puffed out like a peacock. He thought he had successfully buried the "St. Louis Incident" under a layer of Omaha velvet.I was back in the windowless production office, the door locked from the inside. The junior PA had been sent on a coffee run that I knew would take at least twenty minutes. I had my laptop open, the PROJECT_REVENGE network glowing on the screen."Time for the intermission entertainment," I whispered to the empty room.Through the satellite bridge, I had managed to pull a recording of a phone call Ethan had taken three hours earlier while he was
Anya’s POVThe backstage area was a labyrinth of shadow and cold drafts. It was a world of pulleys, thick ropes, and the skeletal remains of old sets, all hidden behind the velvet grandeur that the audience saw from the front.The air here was different, it tasted of dust and nervous sweat.I follo
Anya’s POVThe underground parking garage of the Carlyle was a concrete tomb, smelling of exhaust and expensive rubber.A sleek, black Maybach sat idling, its taillights glowing like predatory eyes in the dim light.Ethan held the door open for me.He didn't offer a hand, he just stood there like a
Anya’s POVThe lobby of the Metropolitan Opera House was a sea of black ties, champagne flutes, and the kind of perfume that smelled like old money and secrets.The air was thick with the hum of a thousand conversations, but as soon as Kai stepped into the room, a path cleared like the Red Sea.His
Anya's PIVThe silk of the midnight blue dress felt like cool water against my skin and it fit too well, almost like it was a second skin I hadn't earned, so I stood there shivering in the middle of the room. It was the kind of dress that didn't just sit on your body but instead it claimed it, clin












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