Is Keira Anji Active On Social Media Platforms?

Keira Greene is a domineering CEO, a relentless boss being the only heir of a conglomerate she is set to prove her worthiness for her position. She is known as the “Lady Devil” because of her ruthless work ethics. Everything changes when she gets a new executive assistant; the hot Clarke Watson. She is determined to make him fall for her. Will she succeed? *** “Are you a virgin?” Keira asks Clarke, who was surprised with her candor. “Is this line of questioning, part of the job interview as your secretary?” Keira smirked at him and answered him with a straight face. “No, not as my secretary, but as my future husband.”

Smut Warning: This story contains explicit sexual content, obsession, stalking, power play, and dark themes. He was supposed to destroy her. Instead, he became addicted to her. Drisana Varma has spent her life as a traded pawn in Chicago’s brutal mafia underworld. Controlled. Manipulated. Used. So she became the ultimate player, cold, calculating, always three steps ahead. No man has ever managed to break her. Until Armani Moretti. The quiet, dangerous transfer student who knows things he shouldn’t. He mentions her private habits. He appears exactly when she needs him. When Drisana finally connects the dots, the truth is worse than she feared. He is her faceless stalker. He has been waiting for the perfect moment to claim her. She should run. Instead, she blackmails him into a fake relationship contract and demands to move into his apartment, stepping willingly into the monster’s cage. What starts as her calculated game of power quickly becomes something far more dangerous and addictive. Behind the signed clauses and careful rules, the mask falls away. Nights turn raw and filthy. Rough hands pinning her down. Possessive growls against her throat. Brutal, claiming sex that leaves her bruised, dripping, and shamefully begging for the man who has stalked her for years. He doesn’t just want her body. He wants to own her completely, her fear, her pleasure, her every breath. But the deeper they fall into this twisted, all-consuming obsession, the closer they get to a devastating truth. A buried secret involving a dead woman that connects them both in ways neither could have imagined. A lie powerful enough to destroy two mafia empires… and the dangerous love that was never supposed to exist.

Elena Voss, the heiress to the world's largest media conglomerate, steps out of a private jet looking unassuming but is instantly mobbed by paparazzi. "Ms. Voss, what ended your four-year marriage to Mr. Black?" She flashes a confident smile. "Time to claim my trillion-dollar empire." "And the whispers of you seeing multiple suitors?" Before she can reply, a deep voice cuts in from the crowd. "All lies." Damian Black emerges, eyes locked on her. "I've got a fortune too, Elena. Why not take mine instead?"

While picking up my parcel from the mailroom, I run into Ivan Judd, an underprivileged student from my grade who is working part-time there. While we chat, he finds out that I'd spent 128 thousand dollars during the Black Friday sales. Dumbfounded, Ivan cries, "I've never even seen that kind of money in my entire life! And you're spending it so casually? Did your mom send you to college to study or to blow money like this?" He yanks the parcel out of my hands and physically blocks the exit. "Return it immediately! Kids like you never understand how hard it is for adults to earn money! If you're this wasteful now, what man can afford to marry you in the future?" I can't help but laugh angrily at Ivan's ridiculous attitude. I retort, "What does me spending my mom's money have anything to do with you?" "How does it not?" He looks completely justified when he says, "I'm dating your mom. Every cent you spend counts as our future marital assets!" I am shocked. Isn't Mom a lesbian? Since when did she start liking men?

At the end of the year, I went to the spa and discovered a stranger had been using my VIP card. When I logged into my personal profile, the last three treatment records were not under my name. The preference section listed specific details about someone else. She was allergic to rose essential oil, preferred lavender, and her heating pad temperature could not exceed 108 degrees Fahrenheit. Her menstrual cycle fell around the 15th of each month, so no waist or abdomen treatments during that time. I stared at the screen, my palms turning cold. Only my husband, Zachary White, knew this password. At the time, he said he needed it to check the balance and renew my membership. I scrolled down and found a system note at the bottom: [Birthday treatment reserved for December 30, prepared according to Ms. Anderson's preferences.] Today was December 30. My phone vibrated. Zachary had sent a message: [Working late tonight. Won't be home.] Familiar laughter drifted from the hallway. Through the glass door, I watched Zachary walk into the adjacent room with his arm around a woman, the beautician hurrying forward to greet them. "Mr. White, we have Ms. Anderson's birthday treatment ready, just as you requested."

I lost a game during the company’s birthday party for me. Lloyd Lane, my girlfriend’s assistant, stated my punishment while smiling. He said, “Woo the general manager of Glazed Light, and you’ll only count as having cleared the punishment after sleeping with her.” Everyone sucked in a sharp breath, as if they had rehearsed it. I said nothing and cast a glance at Naomi York, my girlfriend. Nonchalantly, she sipped at her fruit juice and said coolly, “Lloyd is just kidding. Don’t take it too seriously.” In order to ease the tension, everyone else said, “Lloyd, don’t make things hard for Claude. If you like Miss Clark so much, go and woo her yourself.” In the next second, Naomi had smashed her wine glass on the head of the person who spoke. Suddenly, I laughed. “Sure.”