LOGINAbandoned at the altar and turned into the nation’s laughingstock, straight billionaire Leonard Hays sets out to restore his reputation. He travels to a strange city to retrieve the bride he never wanted. Never loved. Never intended to marry. The same bride he had planned to abandon before she beats him to it. He finds her. He brings her home. But Leonard doesn’t know the woman he returns with is no longer his bride—but her twin. A man hidden in a woman’s clothes. In the wrong bride, Leonard finds everything he never knew he was missing. Desire. Comfort. Love. A connection that consumes him. Then the truth is revealed. The disguise shatters. Secrets unravel. The past hunts. And Leonard Hays must face the one thing he never prepared for: losing the only person he has ever truly loved… because loving a man is something he refuses to admit.
View MoreERICA: Four months into my sessions with Dr. Freud, she testified that I was improving faster than she had ever recorded. By the seventh month, she almost marked my time as over. However, Lucas didn’t believe in my progress. Everything I did was doubted. Every love confession was dismissed and still tagged as DPD. His attitude started to bother me, then it slipped into sadness, and eventually turned into anger. He was there, yes. After all, we lived together. The textile business was also booming. In only two months, after he took over the company’s finance and projects, Gerux’s clothing stores multiplied, spreading across nearly every region in the country. His advice to venture into duvets and sheets was the best project of the month. Within a week, our new product had surpassed the market value. Thanks to Leonard and his patronage, our products filled his entire hotel room, giving us the visibility we hadn’t publicised. Guests who enjoyed the comfort kept ordering more, and soo
ERICA: Lucas struggled against my hold, turning his face from side to side, but desperation made me cling harder. My lips chased his, refusing to let go. With a strong grip, he shoved me off him. The movement tore his lip; a thin streak of blood appeared, and he groaned as he pressed his fingers against it. He let out a hoarse, broken yell and turned away, raking his hands through the air like a man fighting himself more than me. “Lucas?” My voice trembled. “Shut up!” he barked, his back still to me. I swallowed hard, my breath quick and unsteady. I knew I could stay and try to talk to him…but the storm inside me was beyond words. I was burning from the inside out, like something in me would crack open if I didn’t orgasm. I turned and continued down the stairs. His hand caught my wrist again. “Where are you going?” “To get what I need,” I said, jerking my arm free. “Erica…” His voice broke, thick with something close to tears. “Don’t do this.” “I’m losing my mind, Lucas,” I
ERICA: After a long video chat with Lucas’s mother’s therapist, Dr. Freud, she confirmed Lucas wasn’t wrong. I showed clear signs of DPD—symptoms rooted in childhood neglect. Growing up without affection from either parent had shaped me more than I realised. Although she believed her assessment, she required a physical medical diagnosis for absolute confirmation before our sessions could begin. Just as we were getting ready to meet her in person, tragedy struck. Lucas ran out of his room, trembling. He couldn’t speak, so I took the phone from his shaking hand. Whatever frightened him was inside it. Right. Lucas’s personality was a mystery…one that needed careful studying. During sex, he was firm, domineering, confident, almost controlling. But outside of that, he was a shy, smitten cat…one that needed covering, protection, and guidance. I read the news. Eric had been shot. An ambulance was rushing him to the hospital. We hurried there. I sat outside the OR, drowning in confusion
ERICA: Lucas’s mother had suffered from a similar disorder for years before her death. She’d died from heartbreak…from loving too easily, desiring too deeply. At first, his explanation sounded made-up, something he’d crafted to justify his earlier accusations. But when he broke down in tears, describing how his mother had fallen into depression and never recovered, I knew it was real. She had been diagnosed with Dependent Personality Disorder (DPD)—a condition that made her terrified of being alone, quick to attach to anyone who offered her care or attention, and too eager to fall in love just to keep them close. Lucas said I exhibited every symptom his mother had shown before she was diagnosed. But help had come too late for her. By the time she received medical attention, she was emotionally broken, beyond repair. He went on to explain that his mother had grown up in a single-parent home. Her father was absent, her mother long gone. Starved of affection, she fell in love with L
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