He Didn't Look For me

Find Him “Somebody has taken Eli.” … Olivia’s knees buckled. If not for Dean catching her, she would have hit the floor. Nothing was more torturous than the silence left behind by a missing child. Then the phone rang. Two weeks earlier… “Who is your mom?” Dean asked, wondering if he knew the woman. “Her name is Olivia Reed,” replied Eli. Dynamite just exploded in Dean’s head. The woman he once trusted, the woman who betrayed him, the woman he loved and the one he’d never been able to forget.  … Her betrayal had utterly broken him. *** Olivia - POV  She’d never believed until this moment that she could shoot and kill somebody, but she would have no hesitation if it meant saving her son’s life.  *** … he stood in her doorway, shafts of moonlight filling the room. His gaze found her sitting up in bed. “Olivia, what do you need?” he said softly. “Make love to me, just like you used to.” He’d been her only lover. She wanted to completely surrender to him and alleviate the pain and emptiness that threatened to drag her under. She needed… She wanted… Dean. She pulled her nightie over her head and tossed it across the room. In three long strides, he was next to her bed. Slipping between the sheets, leaving his boxers behind, he immediately drew her into his arms. She gasped at the fiery heat and exquisite joy of her naked skin against his. She nipped at his lips with her teeth. He groaned. Her hands explored and caressed the familiar contours of his muscled back. His sweet kisses kept coming. She murmured a low sound filled with desire, and he deepened the kiss, tasting her sweetness and passion as his tongue explored her mouth… ***

“You shouldn’t have found me.” Zara thought it was a joke. A wrong number. A mistake. Until the messages didn’t stop. Until the feeling of being watched followed her everywhere—into crowded streets, quiet nights, and even into the office of the man who was never supposed to notice her. Sebastian Vale doesn’t get distracted. Cold, controlled, and dangerously composed, he built his empire on precision and people like Zara were never part of his plan. But from the moment she stood in front of him, nervous and defiant, something shifted. Something he refuses to name. Something he cannot control. As Zara struggles to hold on to the one thing keeping her afloat her job, her past begins to bleed into her present in ways she cannot escape. Because someone is watching. Someone who knows her. Someone who is waiting. And the closer she gets to Sebastian, the more dangerous everything becomes. Because he isn’t the only one who found her. And this time— running won’t save her.

Her silky hair was a mess. Her makeup, ruined. Her dress wrinkled like she slept on it. She was there, but her mind, elsewhere. Her eyes went to me. Her lips curled into a lazy smile. In every step she gave, my heart sank thinking she would fall. “What happened to you? Are you okay?” I rushed towards her. Her face twisted with disgust. “Oh, perfect Bella. The golden girl. Always correct. Always the best.” “What…” “Perfect Bella. Has the best grades. She doesn't have to fight to get into college, colleges fight over her.” “Emma, you are drunk.” “Perfect Bella doesn't drink. She is as pure as water. Saint Bella.” Her eyes glinted. “Perfect Bella doesn't sleep with her best friend's husband.” My body froze as a wave of chill ran through my spine. “What… what are you talking about?” She leaned in, her breath thick with alcohol, “Where do you think Marcus is? Why do you think I can barely walk straight? Is it hard to believe he took me and not you to that bad that was supposed to be yours?” My heart clenched. Tears started forming in my eyes. It didn't take long till they gave up to gravity. He… he didn't. We'd promised this morning. He couldn't. “He wouldn't.” ***** It's been a year, but the scars are still there. My past echoing in my head reminding me of everything that happened since that day. Every time I open my eyes in the morning to see... nothing. “You only get hurt by the ones you love the most.” “You only get betrayed by the ones you trust the most.” What happens when these two misbeliefs collide? ***** I hope I wrote this book good enough to make you feel it. Obrigada.☺️

He broke down my door at 9:47 on a Tuesday to kill my husband. He wasn’t supposed to find me. I should have been afraid of the most wanted man in the state. Instead I asked him for something no woman had ever asked him for. Then I drove north. I thought I was free. Content Warning Domestic Violence, intimate partner abuse, violence, morally-grey anti hero, love interest, stalking, explicit sexual content

My husband can't find his way anywhere. He can't read a map, and turn-by-turn directions only confuse him more. He got lost on our wedding day and turned up so late the ceremony had to be pushed back three days. He got lost on our anniversary while a table of food I'd cooked went cold. Eight months pregnant, I fell in the bathroom and called him for help. He sounded frantic on the phone, and then he got lost on the road home, the one he'd driven for five years. By the time he reached the hospital, our son had already been taken to the funeral home and cremated. I couldn't climb out of it, and everyone around me took his side. "That thick head of his can't hold a road. He wasn't late on purpose. Don't start a fight over it. You'll have another baby." I nodded, numb. Then, on the way to my son's funeral, I found out my husband had sent the driver away and taken a long detour to his assistant's house without a single wrong turn. "Grace, the service won't start for a while. I'll run Paige to the airport first. She's got to get back home." Before I could say no, we were already at her door. His assistant slid into the front passenger seat like it belonged to her, and every word out of her mouth landed somewhere tender. "See how well I've trained you? You forget the way to my place and I'll pull your pants down and deal with you." It was only when she noticed me in the back seat that she stuck out her tongue, embarrassed. "Sorry, Ms. Ellison. I was joking." I swallowed it and said nothing. And after Owen dropped her off, he lost the route to the cemetery again, and my son's service started half an hour late. Holding that small urn against me, I stopped hoping. So there was someone he could make an exception for. It just wasn't me, and it wasn't our son.

The day my husband left the country on a business trip with his assistant, I learned—by sheer accident—that his archenemy was plotting revenge overseas. Without a second thought, I raced to the airport and stopped him from boarding the plane. But his assistant went ahead, alone. And over there, she was killed brutally. Not a trace of her remains was ever found. When my husband received the news, he fell apart. Wracked with guilt, eaten alive by remorse, he spiraled into a relentless, violent mania. In the past three years, I'd been in and out of hospitals more times than I could count because of him. And this time, he pushed me so far—I lost our child. Then I overheard a conversation between him and his secretary. "Sir, Casey is still alive. Why keep pretending you're sick? Aren't you afraid your wife will find out and leave you?" "Leave me? What right does she have to be angry?" He laughed coldly. "If she hadn't stopped me from going abroad, Casey would've never been lured away by that bastard. Everything Linda's suffering now—she brought it on herself."