Is Riley Haet Active On Social Media Platforms?

I’ll teach ya how to be the most vicious version of yourself you’ll ever know. I can make ya the strongest you’ve ever been. Mind an’ body. An upgrade to evolution, as it were. Most importantly, when you’re ready, you’ll go home to the ones who love ya the most. The ones needin’ ya the most, and you’ll be able to take care of them. I can give you what you need to be at the top of the food chain. Do ya agree to stay and learn from me, Riley Coyle? Agree to train to be an apex predator?” “Tare care of the ones who love me the most. You mean Ainsley?” “I mean Ainsley.” He nods. I search his eyes for a lie. There are none. He’s serious, or at least he believes his own bullshit and I’ll have to settle for that. In my mind, there’s not even another option. If staying here somehow gets me back to Ainsley, then I’ll do what it takes. “Yeah. I agree to stay and do whatever I need to do to go home alive.”

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.”

Theodore Callahan has built his entire life on two things: the ice and his reputation. He's a captain, leader and son of a woman who survived hell and raised him to be iron. He does not lose. He does not bend. And he absolutely does not think about Elijah Voss. Elijah Voss is everything Theodore has been trained to hate — polished, untouchable, and annoyingly good at everything Theodore considers his. When a bar fight and a reckless dare birth the most dangerous bet of both their careers, Theodore doesn't think he has anything to lose. Then he loses. What follows should have been simply a debt paid and a night to forget. Instead, it is the beginning of something Theodore has no language for and no safe place to put. And when their parents sit across from each other at a dinner table with rings on their fingers, simple becomes impossible. Now they are living under the same roof, sharing the same hallways, breathing the same air. The bet is still active. The rivalry is still blazing. And something far more dangerous than hatred is building in the space between them. Theodore has always known who he is. He is starting to suspect he has been wrong. As secrets, lies, and temptation spiral out of control, their pride clashes with their desire. With careers, reputations, and hearts on the line, the question remains: in this dangerous game of dominance, who will surrender first—and at what cost?