LOGINAliyah Whitmore is a driven marketing executive who’s done with romance after a string of bad relationships. She’s focused on her career, refusing to let anyone get close. But when she meets Logan Pierce, a charismatic tech billionaire, things start to shift. Logan is used to getting what he wants, but Aliyah’s no-nonsense attitude and refusal to play along intrigue him. Forced to work together, their undeniable chemistry begins to blur the lines between business and personal. As their intense attraction grows, Aliyah struggles to keep her guard up, knowing a relationship with Logan could be risky. Logan, tired of superficial connections, is determined to break through her walls. With both their careers and hearts on the line, they must decide if their fiery connection is worth the risk.
View MoreI think Sam is going to kiss me. It’s only fair, this is our second date. Since the first time I saw him walking around campus, I thought he was cute. He has such a sweet smile and an innocent look, he seems like a good boy, the kind you can trust. Maybe boy is not the right word, after all, he is three years older than me, he just turned 23. So basically, he’s already a man. He’s graduating from college this year and soon he will be fully immersed in the adult life. I envy that. I crave the freedom he’s getting.
My hands are sweaty, my heart is pounding in my chest. We are entering my street when the car stops I’ll know for sure if he likes me as much as I like him. If he doesn't kiss me, I’ll become a nun... ok, I won’t, but I’ll be pretty disappointed.
He pulls the car over in front of my house. My pulse accelerates. What is wrong with me? He is not even that good looking, he is cute, although he looks like an average Starbucks hipster, totally not my style. But he listens to me when I talk and he has a good sense of humor. I cannot put a price on that, most people in my life never listen to me, they just try to get me out of the way, especially my parents. My dad spends all of his time working and my mom is always either too mad at my dad for something he did or too tired to notice me. Neither of them ever take the time to get to know me or what I want.
“Well, here we are,” says Sam shyly.
“Yep, this is my house,” I reply trying to sound relaxed.
I look away. I must be chill, not let him know how fidgety I really feel. I look out the window and see my house. It’s the biggest on our street in one of the nicest neighborhoods in town. The lights on each of the three floors are on. My mom must be arraigning our furniture for the fifth time this month, annoying our maids beyond words. I pity them, I also pity my mother and her strange ways. Or maybe my dad has one of his business meetings. He usually brings his employees to the house. I know most of them only by sight, my dad doesn't like it when I speak to his workers. I don't know why, I mean, they are just florists like him, but he gets cranky even if I say “hello” to them, so I’ve learned to ignore their presence in my house.
My mom calls them “the intruders” because they always come and go as if this was their home too. I feel the name intruders is appropriate not only because they invade our home, but because they always act suspiciously like they have something important going on aside from the exotic flower import (that’s what my dad’s business does). They always wear suits and have a “don’t mess with me” attitude, which I find really excessive for men who trade flowers from South America and Asia.
Whatever the reason, if it’s because of my mom or the intruders, the point is that there is a lot of activity in my house and that’s not good for me. I told my parents I’ll be out with Miranda, my best friend since middle school, if they see me with a guy they’re going to get really mad.
Maybe I should tell Sam to go, but I’m not ready to say goodbye just yet. He gets out of the car and walks to my side to open the door for me. I smile, he’s such a gentleman. He offers me his hand to help me out of the car and I take it. I know I should send him home right away. Someone might see us from a window and I could get in trouble. Even though I’m 20 years old, my parents don’t allow me to date anyone. It’s not that they are super religious or anything like that. It’s just that they see a threat in every guy that approaches me. I can’t really blame them, my brother was murdered last year when some dumb burglar tried to steal his wallet and he resisted. It’s been really painful for all of us, I dropped out of college and moved back home to be with my parents and they have prohibited me to date anyone ever since. To be fair, they’ve never been cool with me going out with guys, even before, but the situation definitely worsened after we lost my brother. Out of respect for their pain, I have gone along with the “no dating” rule for the last year, but I had a crush on Sam since a while back and when he asked me out I just couldn't say no.
He walks with me to the front porch of the house and smiles.
“I had a really nice time,” I say in a rush.
“Me too. You are really nice when you relax, Olivia,” he says.
“When I relax?” I ask confused.
“Yes, most of the time you were looking over your shoulder as if you were nervous someone was following us, but there were a few moments when you relaxed, and those were really cool.”
I blush. I had no idea my paranoia with my parents was so evident. I promise myself to be better next time. I would love to be honest with him about why I seemed so nervous on our date, but he is going to think I’m such a loser. The 20-year-old girl how’s not allowed to go on dates. Lame.
“Sorry about that. I really did enjoy our date,” I say with a smile.
“I’m glad because I like you very much.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
He leans forward. He is going to kiss me! I close my eyes awaiting to feel his lips on mine. I feel him approaching, but then he suddenly pulls away.
“Who do you think you are? You piece of scum!”
I open my eyes the second I hear my dad yelling. I gasp in horror. My dad has Sam on his knees, with one hand he pulls his brown man bun to force Sam to face him and on the other, he’s holding a gun. Why does my dad have a gun?
“What the...” Squeals Sam in pain.
“Dad, please, stop!” I beg mortified.
“Do you think you can come to my house and take advantage of my daughter?” He asks without paying attention to me.
My dad throws Sam against the ground. His head hits the pavement hard. I cover my mouth with both of my hands, bewildered. A bunch of intruders step out of the house and, for a second, I think they’re going to stop my dad, but they just watch undaunted as my dad assaults an innocent guy.
Sam tries to get up, but my dad kicks him on the side right on the ribs and he howls in pain. Before he can do anything to defend himself my dad grabs his hair again and forces him to face him.
“You are going to pay for this. No one comes to my house and disrespects me!” My dad threatens.
“I haven't done anything,” Sam shrieks.
Some of the intruders laugh behind me. What is wrong with them?
“Dad, please, stop!” I beg.
“Olivia, go inside the house. Now!” My dad orders me.
Then he takes his gun and forces it inside Sam’s mouth. He is going to kill Sam! I feel the panic in my stomach. I take a step forward and outstretch my arms to stop my dad, but I feel a strong pull that drags me away from them. It’s one of the intruders. He’s holding me steadily with both hands. I try to break free, but his grip tightens. He’s way stronger than me.
“It’s better if you don't interfere, doll,” he whispers calmly to my ear as if my dad was not about to kill an innocent guy.
I’m so scared for Sam that I ignore the fact that this stranger just called me doll. Way out of line coming from a man that works for my dad, but not a priority at the moment.
“Listen to me, you trash, if you ever go near my daughter or even think about her again you will wish you were never born. Understood?” My dad threatens.
Sam is shaking. He nods terrified as he’s unable to speak with a gun in his mouth. My dad loosens his grip and Sam falls to the ground. I can’t believe what just happened. I want to die of embarrassment and disbelief. Sam gets up and wobbles to his car. It takes him several tries to get his car going. My dad and the intruders standing on the porch watch him closely until his car turns at the end of the street and disappears from our sight.
The intruder that’s holding me lets me go. I run inside the house. The other intruders let me pass barely even glancing at me. I feel so humiliated. I reach the foot of the stairs and freeze there, not being able to process what just happened.
“Olivia, go to your room. Your mother will talk to you,” says my dad behind me.
I nod and go up the stairs slowly, I can’t even talk, I’m still in shock. I hear the intruders talking downstairs, acting as if nothing had happened. How can they act so normal after watching their boss put a gun inside a guy’s mouth? Isn't any of them afraid? I’m not an expert on business, but I would never work for a person like that.
I get to my room and my legs refuse to carry me any further so I fall to the ground and start crying inconsolably.
A few minutes pass and my mom enters my room. She takes me by the arm and forces me to stand up.
“Get off the floor, don’t be such a drama queen, Olivia,” she says annoyed.
“Did you see what happened? It was awful!” I squeak.
“Yes, I was looking from my window. Poor boy, he looked scared,” my mom says as if she was talking about the weather. “You know how Vittorio gets. He likes to show who the boss is.”
“He put a gun inside his mouth! That’s a crime! I know he’s moody, but I’ve never seen my dad do anything like that,” I cry out.
“Yes, you are right, he usually refrains from that when he’s home,” my mom remarks.
I look at her confused. When he’s home? Does that mean he does these kinds of things when he’s out?
“Why is everyone acting so calm?” I ask frustrated.
“Olivia, just forget about it. You saw a side of your dad you’ve never seen before. Let’s hope you don’t see it again. If we are lucky, your friend will be smart enough to let it slide. Your dad is under a lot of stress, it’s better if he doesn’t provoke him any further or things will get really ugly really fast.”
“What does that mean?” I asked scared. She makes my dad sound like a dangerous person. My mom waves her hand, dismissing my question. “Don’t worry. I’m certain he’ll never be interested in going out with me again.” As I say the words my heart aches because I realize it’s true, I just lost any possibility with Sam.
“Well, that is obvious! I meant more of a: let’s hope he’s smart enough not to talk to anyone about this,” she answers mockingly.
“You mean like the police?” I feel a hole in my stomach. I’m furious at my dad right now, but that doesn't mean I want to see him in jail. He’s an older man, he may act like he’s young and strong, but he had me late in life and now he’s almost elderly. I don’t want him to spend his last years in jail! I look for my phone nervously, it’s on the floor where I was crying. I pick it up almost shaking.
“What are you doing, Olivia?” My mom asks.
“I have to talk to Sam. I have to ask him not to go to the police, I need to save dad!” I say as I scroll down searching for Sam’s number.
My mother screams with laughter. I stop what I’m doing and just look at her in disbelief. She never laughs. Especially not this hard.
“Oh, my poor Olivia,” she says once she controls her laughter. “We really made you an innocent girl. Your dad doesn't need saving, especially not from the police. Don’t worry about him, he has contacts to get him out of this kind of situations. You worry about you, ok? And don’t you ever talk to that boy again. Stay away from trouble.”
I sit on the bed, confused. My dad has ‘contacts’... what does that mean? It’s like I’ve lived with a total stranger my whole life. I have no idea who this man who carries guns and has ‘contacts’ is.
I have a million questions for my mom, but then she says the magic words: “This topic is over.”
And I know it is. Once she decides we can’t talk about a certain subject there’s no going back. That’s why we haven't talked about my brother in months. She decided it was too painful and forbid me from even mentioning his name. She hid all of his pictures and gave away all of his belongings. Sometimes at night, I whisper his name ‘Alex’ just to remind me that he was real and that memories can’t be discarded as easily as photos.
The topic of Sam, just as my brother, is now off-limits. My mom leaves the room looking satisfied to have placed another unpleasant episode behind us.
I throw myself on the bed and start crying again.
Special Chapter: A Day at the Mall It was a typical Saturday afternoon, and Logan, Ethan, and I were out for a little family time at the mall. We’d just finished a fun round of window shopping and were now heading toward the food court to grab a bite. Ethan, of course, was more interested in the giant stuffed animals at the toy store, tugging at Logan’s hand as he pointed toward a huge bear. “Daddy, look! Bear!” Ethan exclaimed, his little voice full of excitement. Logan grinned and ruffled his son’s hair, nodding along. “I see it, buddy. We’ll check it out after lunch,” Logan said with a chuckle. As we strolled down the crowded walkway, a woman, tall, with platinum blonde hair and a tight-fitting dress, caught sight of Logan and smiled. She was clearly giving him the once-over, her eyes lingering a little too long. I raised an eyebrow, already sensing the energy shift around us. Ethan, oblivious to the woman’s intentions, tugged harder at Logan’s hand. But I couldn’t help but n
It was a quiet Sunday morning when I woke up to the sound of soft laughter and the rustling of blankets. My eyes fluttered open to see Logan, sitting by the edge of the bed, his hand gently brushing through our son Ethan’s hair. Ethan, barely three years old, was squirming around in the bed, his little feet kicking and giggling as Logan tried to wrangle him into a proper sitting position. “Come on, buddy,” Logan chuckled, his deep voice full of warmth. “You’ve got to let Mama sleep a little longer.” Ethan’s small, chubby fingers gripped the blankets, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he looked up at his dad. “No, Daddy! I want Mama!” he declared, a pout forming on his face. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Ethan was already a little ball of personality, full of energy and opinions. He had Logan’s eyes—bright, bold, and full of curiosity—and my smile, which he flashed every time he did something mischievous. I stretched, letting out a soft yawn before rolling over to face
One month after Logan proposed to me, we had both found our rhythm. We were deeply in love, and though the months had passed quickly, everything between us felt as though it was meant to be. Logan was exactly the kind of man I had always dreamed of, and now we had a future together—a future that started with that beautiful, unforgettable proposal by the lake.The months leading up to our wedding were a whirlwind of planning, excitement, and of course, some typical stress. Logan, surprisingly, took an active part in planning. I had always expected him to be the type to let me handle everything, but no. He was there, involved in every decision—from choosing the venue to selecting the color of the napkins. Every little detail mattered to him because, to him, it was all about making our day perfect.And finally, a year later, the day arrived—the day I had waited for all my life. Our wedding.The morning of our wedding, I was a bundle of nerves. I couldn’t believe it was finally happening.
The kitchen was quiet now, save for the soft clink of plates being stacked and the occasional hum of the refrigerator. We had just finished breakfast, the warm aroma of pancakes and coffee still lingering in the air. I glanced at Logan, who had pushed his empty plate away, his eyes already shifting toward the clock. It was time for him to get ready for work. I felt a dull ache in my body, a reminder of the night before. But it didn’t stop me from feeling a warmth in my chest as I cleared the table. Logan and I shared a soft smile, the kind of smile that said everything without needing words. There was something so simple and comforting about mornings like this—just the two of us, taking things slow, enjoying each other’s presence before the world outside pulled us in different directions. Logan stood up, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. “I’m gonna get ready,” he said, his voice still thick with sleep. “Don’t overdo it, okay?” I smiled at him, shaking my head. “I’l
The soft rustling of the hospital room faded as I sat up in bed, slowly peeling back the covers. I hadn’t realized how much the weight of everything had been hanging on me until now—how long it had been since I felt like I could finally breathe easy. As I was idly stirring my breakfast, lost in thou
I slowly opened my eyes, the soft glow of the night light casting a warm hue over the room. For a moment, everything was blurry, and the steady beeping of the monitor was the only sound that reminded me I was still in the hospital. My body felt heavy, but I could tell I was no longer in pain. As my
I stepped into the lobby of Whitmore Company, my heels clicking against the marble floor with purpose. It was a busy morning, and I had no time for interruptions, though I could feel the stares of a few employees as I passed. My tailored blazer fits perfectly, my strides confident. Everything about
As Aliyah stepped through the front door of their new house, she felt an almost overwhelming sense of calm. The faint scent of fresh paint mixed with the clean, crisp air that flowed through the wide-open windows. She stood there for a moment, taking it all in. This house wasn’t just another place t












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