All Chapters of For Better or Buisness: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Nik stared at Eva feeling his throat tighten with pain as the words remained stuck in it. He had promised himself years ago that he would never beg anyone again to choose him since he watched his mother leave but it didn't matter. This was Eva, he would beg, even grovel at her feet. This was his Eva. "Please stay," he begged, letting her see through him. He didn't need to be on his knees now, they both knew how much it took to have Nik Stavros begging. Nik chose to be cut out from his family business and build his from scratch. She bent her head low, her waist-length brown hair that fell like a halo around her veiled her face. He didn't need to see her face, to hear her answer. It was a low whisper but he heard it loud and clear, "I'm sorry, Nik. I can't. I just can't." “Why can't you?” he yelled and pinched the bridge of his nose to get his emotions under control. From the corner of his eyes, he watched her toy with her fingers, and the diamond band on her right hand caught his

ELAINE I tossed in the sauteed shrimp into the melted butter and garlic paste and was met with the sizzling sound of it being cooked. I used my left arm to wipe off sweat that drizzled from my forehead into the corner of my eyes and I sighed in exhaustion. Even with the industrial sized fans and heat extractor in the kitchen, it was still hot as hell. "Elaine, I need those shrimps now." The head chef screamed from one corner of the bustling kitchen and I began to move it around making sure that it was thoroughly cooked on both sides. It's so easy to get overly stimulated in a restaurant kitchen, from the clashing pits and pan, to different people yelling orders, to the heat and sting of the fire, to the smell of different dishes both raw and cooked. It was almost always chaos. The sharp pain that shot through me from my lower back and waist had me abandoning the knife I had in hand to grip the edge of the kitchen table top. Fuck cramps and the never-ending cycle of pain and emot

ELAINEDo you ever feel like you can't escape the shadows? Like, no matter how fast you run, something is out to get you, and it will get you. Right now, the shadow felt like poverty. I had spent almost all my adult years scraping by since my mother got sick. At 21, I had cared for my mother while she slipped away when my father died. My parent had the kind of love story that felt too intense. Loving someone in ways that felt like when they left you couldn't live or breathe, and your entire axis was tilted upside down. Just when it felt like my mom was finally accepting my father's passing, she got sick with cancer. There is no sickness I hate more than this one. Like every other terminal illness, it was the sickness where you hoped against hope. During the times she was sick, we scraped and scraped, sold some of our properties to get her into some clinical trials, and even moved to New York when we heard a promising one was happening. My mom's passing made me an orphan with lot

NikI want her. I know she was scared of me yet I wanted her. Even now that I know that the little minx is the god sister of my ex, the woman I loathe so much, and the grand daughter of my sworn enemy, I want her. I swore I didn't do children or those who barely have their frontal lobe developed yet, with the 12 years ago between us, I want her. It was lust at first sight. I'm way too old to believe in any other notion. The way her eyes had turned to saucers and how innocent she looked something about her had me blurring out a marriage proposal on the spot. I have forgotten how good it feels to get an erection without doing so much mental prep work, but it was clear that the little guy in my pants was attracted to her. She is young and naive, possibly haven't had a chance to be corrupted yet or to have lovers. Although the age gap made me feel a little bit like a predator it was perfectly legal. I need a woman anyway. One to show my business partner that I was responsible en

ELAINE. The drive to the office was spent in silence. Mr whatever his name was didn't bother to make small talk and neither did I. He was obviously angry at how much time I took, and perharps his boss must have been calling him, but I didn't care. It really wasn't in my nature to act like a spoilt child, but I didn't really feel like myself today. What were we supposed to talk about anyways? Was it about how his boss was in my room last night or how I am about to sign off my life to be his property. The elevator ride to his office had my stomach tied up in so many knots. Unlike the last time, I was directed to a wide conference room where my creditor was alongside a man in a suit. I wiped my hands on the front of my jeans and white shirt, which made me feel out of place. I had a shift at the restaurant today and dressing in a dress and heels would be unnecessary stress. I was led to a chair which was directly opposite the suited man who was grinning from ear to ear. My cred