Semua Bab Wicked Swipe: Bab 1 - Bab 8

ISLA’S POVThis was the dumbest idea I’ve ever had.I stared at the empty prosecco glass in front of me, pretending to be busy with my phone. In reality, I was just trying to distract myself from the embarrassment creeping up my cheeks.Around me, London’s lights shimmered like a sea of stars. Couples laughed, flirted, and basked in the romance of this swanky rooftop restaurant.I was alone. Waiting for Christian: my Tinder date. The one who was supposedly so hot he could make ovaries explode.Such a people pleaser, Isla. Well done.I tugged at my lavender blouse, suddenly feeling way overdressed for someone who couldn’t even bother to show up.I wasn’t sure what p*ss*d me off more: the guy ghosting me, or my so-called friends who dared me into this mess.They said it was just for fun, a silly little bet. Yeah, right? Now here I was, sitting alone, waiting for a guy more fictional than their fake-*ss smiles.Maya—bless her, the only sane person in my life—had warned me from the start.

ISLA'S POVMirrors don’t lie.I stood in front of it, wrapped in nothing but a towel. Kisses and bites covered my neck, chest, waist, and thighs. It was as if someone had rewritten my body. Like he’d claimed every inch of it.And maybe I was his now, Julian Wolfe’s.One night with him, and I didn’t even recognize the version of myself from before. He didn’t just satisfy my body. He peeled away every layer of the persona I wore like armor.And the worst part? I let him.“Morning.” That deep, husky voice came from behind me.I turned on instinct. Oh, God… he was naked. And his morning wood was standing tall like a threat I desperately wanted to surrender to.Our eyes met in the mirror. He smirked that gazes dark, intense, and full of promise. This man didn’t just know what he wanted. He knew exactly how to take it and make me grateful for giving in.Without a word, he stepped closer. His heat pressed against my back. One big hand wrapped around my waist, sliding upward to cup my breast

ISLA'S POVI believed he would become a distant memory, a passionate one-night stand that was too intense to be labeled a mistake but not meant to be repeated.I was wrong. Julian Wolfe is not the kind of man I can just write off.A year ago, that morning, I quietly left his luxurious Notting Hill town house. My hair was a mess, my body still marked with traces of his release, and my breath shallow from the stupid decision to leave without saying goodbye.I thought it was the safest move because I’d gotten too close to the edge. And in my eyes, Julian was too perfect to be anything but addictive.Julian Wolfe was everything I craved and feared in a single, devastating form. Dominant, mature, attentive, and he knew my body better than anyone ever had.For a year, I tried to kill the memory. But like its signature scent of bergamot, cedarwood and a hint of dark musk: it clung to me.Now he’s back. In a goddamn boardroom.***The office was like Vogue meets Forbes—Urban luxury with minim

ISLAPeople know my mother as the kind of socialite who thrives on hosting events: charity auctions, high-end luncheons, endless gatherings. She attends them weekly, like it’s her full-time job.This time, it’s their 50th wedding anniversary.Not exactly a small number. And in my mother’s eyes, that kind of milestone deserves a grand, unforgettable celebration.For the past year, she’d been pouring money into planning the event. In her mind, this party had to be the best, the biggest, the one people would still be gossiping about months from now.As the only daughter in the family, I didn’t have a choice. Ever since I was a kid, she dragged me along to every social function she attended, like some living extension of herself.She made a strong effort to shape me into a younger version of herself. I was her last chance to carry on her legacy, as my brothers had already been prepared to inherit my father's empire.Which is how I ended up standing in the backyard of my parents’ estate, h