Lahat ng Kabanata ng Falling For His Dirty Trap: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Hillary Optimistic—that’s the word that could sum up everything I feel right now. My life is pretty great. I got engaged a month ago, and I proudly wear my boyfriend—I mean, my fiancé’s—ring every day. I’m still not used to it. Jake and I have been dating for four years. The rude, bad boy I had a heated argument with on the very first day of class in my third year in college is now the same man I’m going to marry. It feels like a dream come true. Dragging my suitcases behind me, I step out of the airport and try to flag down a taxi that will take me “home.” Can I even call this place home? Boston feels like an entirely different world compared to Utah. Honestly, if someone showed me pictures of Boston and told me it was New York, I’d probably believe them. The tall buildings, the energy, the aesthetic views—it’s all so beautiful. No wonder Jake wanted us to settle here. Every time Jake and I talked about marriage, he’d mention how he wanted us to build a life in Boston. Now th

Bentley I step out from under the shower, grab a towel, and dry myself off before wrapping it low around my waist. Then I step out of the bathroom into my room—just as my new PA, who also happens to be my brother’s fiancée, steps out of my closet with my outfit dangling from her hand. She freezes. Her eyes widen. Then she gawks at my half-naked state like a creep. “Do you want me to get you a camera so you can take a picture, frame it, and hang it in your room?” I quirk an eyebrow. “I’m sorry,” she blurts quickly, walking over to the bed to drop the suit. “Emm… would you like me to make you coffee? Or tea? Or toast for breakfast? Or would you want me to—” My sigh cuts her off. I already don’t like her. Truth is, I had decided that long before meeting her, and meeting her only validated it. She’s all the things I hate—chatty, clumsy, loud, and full of pointless questions. “Coffee is self-destructive, and breakfast is for people without goals.” She stares at me like I’ve just

HillaryThe willpower it takes me to shut off my alarm and roll out of bed today could lift this entire penthouse. Jake must know how much I love him—and how badly I want to marry him—to put up with all of this.I’ve never had a problem waking up early. In fact, one of the best parts of my mornings back in college and in Utah was running at dawn and grabbing my favorite cup of coffee.But not today. I barely slept four hours. I was up all night working after Ben yelled at me for ruining some documents, and my ankle hurts three times worse than it did on Monday. A deep purple bruise is spreading, but I don’t even care.I drag myself into the bathroom, brush my teeth quickly. Today is Friday—Rhiannon’s last day of coaching me, covering for me, and my first full week completed without crashing out.My self-respect is bruised, but my bank account is glowing.Rhia has been avoiding me ever since I caught her humping her boss a few weeks before her wedding, but honestly, I don’t care. She’s

Bentley Ohh fuck me.I try to ignore the tightness of her nipples poking through the thin cotton of her dress as I focus back on the screen, saving the document.This is so unprofessional. Everything about her is. Coming into my study for work in a thin romper, no bra, and I’m guessing no panties either—knowing that fear, intimidation, and humiliation make her feel funny.I’m never going to use a sexual word with my brother’s fiancée because I can never see her that way. I’m not supposed to. But she makes it hard, doing shit like this.You mean makes you hard.Hell no. I’d rather cut my balls off before they tighten for a girl like Hillary. It’s just off—she’s off. Even if she had nothing to do with my brother, it would never happen.I don’t mention her dress because that gives her more power and makes me look like the creep, but I can outright make out the size of her heavy breasts through her romper, and it’s irritating.She can’t have that effect on me. She’s nothing even remotely

Hillary I don’t know much about Boston aside from Ben’s house, the airport, and his two offices—the theoretical one and the practical, heavily guarded building where the technology was kept safe. That building alone was the size of three estates combined.Anyway, I found a fancy restaurant not too far from home. I saw it every time we drove by, and I had been dying to try it, so I picked that and booked us a reservation.“Is this what you called expensive?” Ben asks, one eyebrow arched, hands shoved casually into his pockets.“Yeah,” I nod, tugging his arm to pull him closer toward the entrance. “Ben, you’re a hundred times richer than the average human being. Nothing is expensive to you.”“I mean, you’re not wrong,” he admits, basking in that self-satisfied pride of his.Of course. He was still an arrogant asshole, but lately, he had softened up with me. I actually liked this version of Ben—the one who let me use his pool. I’d been dreaming of swimming in it for weeks but had been t