LOGINTwo years ago, Marilyn Oxford walked out on the most powerful man in the city after treating him like a disposable escort. That single act of reckless pride wounded Raymond Stewart deeper than any business betrayal ever had. For Raymond, the $500 note wasn't just insulting. It was a declaration of war from a woman who didn't know who he was. He spent the last 24 months hunting her with the same ruthless focus he uses to crush competitors. He doesn't want love. He wants dominance. He wants to make her beg, to make her take every dollar back, to make her admit that she belongs to him. For Marilyn, that night was survival. It was her ‘F*ck you' to the boyfriend who destroyed her on her 21st birthday. She has spent two years rebuilding herself: top of her class, therapy, career-first, never again letting a man control her pleasure or her future. The last thing she needs is the ghost of her ‘best orgasm’, showing up as her terrifying new boss.
View MoreThe days that followed became harder than Marilyn expected. Raymond was still there, and that was the problem. If he had travelled again, if he had stayed away from the penthouse, perhaps she could have convinced herself that the distance between them was only because of work. But he was there every morning. Every evening. And every night. And still, he felt far away. At breakfast, Raymond sat across from her with his tablet. “Did Grace send the update about your mother?” “Yes.” “How is she?” “Better now.” “Good.” That was usually where the conversation ended. No teasing. No smile that belonged only to her. And no casual hand reaching across the table. No “love.” Just Marilyn. Always Marilyn. At the office, it was the same, Raymond remained professional. He called her when he needed something, and gave her instructions. He asked for reports. Sometimes their eyes met for a second longer than necessary, and Marilyn would feel hope rise inside her. Then Raymond looked away.
Marilyn noticed changes in Raymond that evening. He came home late. Normally, even when he returned exhausted, the first thing he did was to find her and kiss her. A hand around her waist. And a quiet, “Where have you been, love?” Sometimes he would barely enter the living room before pulling her close. That night, he walked past her with just: “Good evening, Marilyn.” Marilyn stared at him. “Good evening.” Raymond removed his jacket. And the next person he asked was Elizabeth. “How is your mother?” “She’s fine too.” Marilyn replied. “Good.” And that was it. No kisses. No touch. No Nothing. Marilyn stood beside the sofa, watching him walk upstairs. She wanted to believe he was tired. But the next morning proved otherwise. Raymond was already at the breakfast table when she came downstairs. “Morning,” Marilyn said. He looked up. “Good morning, Marilyn.” Again. Just Marilyn. She sat across from him. Raymond continued reading something on his tablet. Marilyn waited fo
Raymond slept on that information and wasn't comfortable. The next morning, his car stopped in front of Ashford International Tower in Landmark City. Daniel glanced at him through the mirror. “Should I wait here, sir?” “Yes.” Raymond stepped out before Daniel could say anything else. He had spent most of the night thinking about Marilyn’s words. About Victor, Isabella, and Richard Hale. He still believed Victor was wrong. But belief was no longer enough. And that irritated him more than anything. Victor’s assistant looked surprised when Raymond walked into the executive floor without an appointment. “Mr. Stewart.” “I’m here to see Victor.” “Mr. Ashford is in a meeting.” “End it.” The woman hesitated. Raymond looked at her. She immediately reached for the phone. A few minutes later, Victor’s office door opened. Victor stood behind his desk, watching Raymond enter. “Well.” Raymond closed the door behind him. Victor smiled. “I didn’t think I would ever see the day Raymon
Marilyn spent most of the following day waiting for Raymond. He had sent only one message that morning. ‘I’ll be home tonight.’ And nothing else. No love, no teasing. No promise about showing her how much he had missed her. Marilyn read the message several times. Something was definitely wrong. By evening, she was already at the Triplex Penthouse. She changed out of her office clothes and waited in the living room. When the private elevator finally opened, Marilyn stood immediately. Raymond stepped out of it. Her heart jumped at the sight of him. For two days, she had imagined this moment. She had imagined running into his arms, his hands around her waist, his kiss, and the way he would tease her for admitting that she missed him. Instead, Raymond walked toward her and stopped. “Hi.” Marilyn’s smile weakened. “Hi.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. And that was all. Marilyn stared at him. Raymond removed his jacket. “How is your mother?” “She’s fine.” “Good.” He
Two years later. Marilyn Oxford woke up to soft sunlight filtering through the curtains of her small apartment. Today was her first official day at Stewart Global Resorts, the company she had dreamed of joining ever since her sophomore year in college. Her heart beat faster as she climbed out of b
Merilyn was just out of the elevator. She looked around the ground floor and regrets filled her eyes. Her carelessness has caught up with her. Her career is gone. What was she going to tell her mother now? She walked forward, thinking. Her mother had wanted this career for her. She had worked ha
Raymond Stewart strode into his private office without a word, the hot coffee still soaking through his white shirt and suit jacket. He did not bother to look down at the damage. The ruined clothes meant nothing. His mind was fixed on one thing only: the woman who had just collided with him in the
The worst day of Marilyn Oxford’s life began on her twenty-first birthday. She had walked into her boyfriend, Simon Hayes’s apartment carrying a small gift bag and wearing black lace lingerie beneath her clothes. She had spent weeks imagining this moment. Tonight, she had planned to give him her vi
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