Semua Bab In His Sheets: Bab 1 - Bab 5

I am fucking tired.If I have to serve one more sorry-ass, rude rich couple with their fake smiles and diamond-studded entitlement, I might as well just throw myself under the next delivery truck.My life is nothing but hell — working four jobs, unpaid bills, student loans, a sick mother, and a landlord who bangs on my door like I owe him my life instead of rent. Where the hell do these people find their money? How do they do it?I slumped against the counter, watching the couple in the booth sip their early-morning coffee like life owed them peace. She had a ring the size of my my entire life, and he had that bored, rich look the kind that said he’d never had to choose between food and electricity.They didn’t even look at each other. Just scrolled through their phones, sipping, existing.And still, they looked like they had it all.Meanwhile, my hands smelled like espresso and regret.The bell over the door jingled. And another stuck up family of three walked in. My shift wasn’t o

To win the game, you have to study the players……. if there’s ones thing being broke has taught me is how to win no matter what. The apartment hummed like a tired refrigerator when I came in, the same familiar, low-grade noise that meant the world kept turning even if mine felt stuck. I dropped my bag by the door, walked straight to the table, and opened my laptop like it was some kind of altar.Joan was asleep in the half dead coach, her snores were the only sound that indicated she was alive. The screen lit up my face in blue. I glanced at the clock: past two in the morning. My next shift was in four hours and I desperately needed to sleep but that can wait.I sat cross-legged on the chair , my laptop open in front of me, half-eaten noodles on the table I could grab on my way home. The club had drained the life out of me, but the moment Sasha mentioned that party, something had clicked in my Results spilled across the page: a dry press release from a tech magazine, an overheated g

Handsome didn’t quite cut it. He was stunning, the kind of man who made people stop mid-sentence without even realizing it. His hair was jet black, cut sharp at the sides, falling just enough over his forehead to make him look recklessly elegant. He stood at least six-foot-five, broad-shouldered with the kind of posture that came naturally to men who owned rooms without saying a word. His face was all clean lines and high cheekbones, his jaw defined, his mouth firm. But it was his eyes that did it—steel-grey, cold and deliberate, scanning the crowd like he was already two steps ahead of everyone there. A few women near the carpet giggled, trying to catch his attention. He didn’t glance at a single one of them. I swallowed, my stomach tightening for a reason I couldn’t quite explain. He looked like he could destroy someone’s life with a single decision and never lose sleep over it. And even though something about him pulled at me, I knew immediately, he wasn’t the kind of man I sh