The Man Who Knew Dick Bong

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” his raspy voice dripped with lust and uncertainty as his eyes scanned my exposed cleavages, “your father…” “Shhh.” I stopped him mid-way, placing my finger on his soft lips, “We both want this. I have seen the way you look at me, Mr. Richard. Do not hold back now.” I whispered sultrily. He swallowed hard and I saw him clench his well-chiseled jaws. I opened my mouth to continue my protest when all of a sudden, he grabbed me by the waist, pulled me closer and covered my lips with his in the hungriest manner ever. My body melted, succumbing to his burning desire. *** He was my father’s childhood best friend. He was always there for me since I lost my mother at the age of four. My father grieved hard and found it difficult to recover for many years, so Mr Richard was the father figure I had. However, he left the country after my thirteenth birthday and I almost forgot about him until he returned. I had turned twenty-one and when I laid my eyes on him, all my childhood memories came rushing back. But that wasn’t all there was. I noticed how hot and sexy he looked for that age and how his gaze lingered way too long on my mature body. And then, fate kept bringing us together, all I had to do was call on him. He was just being nice, right? Nothing more should have happened but my body refused to listen to my brain. I wanted him! I wanted him around me all the time, I wanted him to whisper in my ears and punish me accordingly if I did something wrong… I wanted him INSIDE ME.

At my engagement party to Matthew, the Don of the Gambino family, he said he had business to handle. Two hours later, he still wasn't back. I went to look for him. Around the corner of the hallway, his men were whispering in Sicilian dialect. "Poor thing. The future Donna has no idea Don's been screwing Ruth." "The Don's out of his mind. Can't even keep it together on his engagement night." Ruth Martin. His childhood friend. His business partner. I stood there, frozen. Then I walked back to the ballroom. A while later, Matthew pushed through the door. One button missing from his shirt. Sweat on his forehead. Someone clapped his shoulder, asked in Sicilian. "Ha! So? How was it with Ruth? Fucking intense, right? You're a madman." Matthew laughed and answered. "Of course. Couldn't get enough." What Matthew didn't know—I used to be Sicilian. I understood every word. What he also didn't know—I was about to tell him I was carrying his child. I took a sip of my juice. Didn't call him out. Instead, I pulled out my phone and opened the confirmation from the lab in Paris. Hit Confirm. Seven days from now, I'd be on a flight to Paris. Gone from his world for good.

What happens when you accidentally send a text to your best friend's dad that was not meant to be for his eyes? Elona, who is eighteen, is on the cusp of a new chapter- her final year of high school. A dream she has her sights on becoming a model. But beneath her confident exterior lies a secret crush on someone unexpected- Mr. Crane, her best friend's father. Three years ago, after the tragic loss of his wife, Mr. Crane, a painfully handsome man, stands as a hardworking billionaire, a symbol of both success and unspoken pain. His world intersects with Elona's through her best friend, their shared street, and his friendship with her dad. One fateful day, a slip of a thumb changes everything. Elona accidentally sends Mr. Crane a series of revealing photos intended for her best friend. As he sits at the boardroom table, he receives the unexpected images. His gaze lingers on the screen, he has a choice to make. Will he confront the accidental message, risking a fragile friendship and potentially igniting emotions neither anticipated? Or will he grapple with his own desires in silence, seeking a way to navigate this uncharted territory without disrupting the lives around him? This age-gap, forbidden, slow burn, suspenseful romance is filled with angst and tension.

Carol has harbored a forbidden obsession with Mr. Rich for as long as she can remember—a desire so intense it consumes her thoughts and fuels fantasies she could never confess. He's older, unavailable, and completely off-limits. But none of that diminishes the magnetic pull she feels every time they're in the same room. The problem? Kate—her best friend since childhood—is Mr. Rich's daughter. Carol is trapped in an impossible situation. Every visit to Kate's house is torture and temptation wrapped into one. Every casual conversation with Mr. Rich sends her imagination spiraling. She knows what she wants, but the cost of pursuing it could destroy the most important friendship she has. The questions multiply in her mind: What would happen if she finally made her move? Would Mr. Rich be horrified, intrigued, or something she hasn't even considered? And Kate—would she ever forgive such a betrayal? Could their friendship survive Carol crossing this ultimate boundary? Carol stands at a precipice between desire and loyalty, between the fantasy she's nurtured for years and the real-world consequences that would follow. She knows she should walk away, bury these feelings, and preserve what matters most. But obsession doesn't obey logic or morality. As the tension builds, Carol must answer the question that haunts her every waking moment: does she care enough to stop herself—or is the risk of losing everything worth one chance at getting what she's always wanted?

The final race would decide everything: win, and I'd make the national team; lose, and I'd be kicked off the racing team. Twenty-eight years ago, my father was crippled by the same man. His spine was broken, and he never stood again. Two hours before the race, I saw him crouching beside my car with my own eyes. When I went over to check, I found the brake line had been cut and the brake fluid had been mixed with alcohol. The method was exactly the same. My father had waited in his wheelchair for twenty-eight years. I crouched down and stared at the severed brake line for a long time. Then I stood up, wiped away the fingerprints, and put on my helmet. I didn't report it. I didn't change cars. I didn't tell anyone. Because I wanted him to watch with his own eyes— To see how he'd be sent to hell by the "loser" he despised. The engines roared. The green light came on. I released the brake and floored the throttle. The moment I shot forward, I knew— This car's brakes wouldn't last past the seventh lap.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my wife left me for the man she could never forget. "Winston's raising a child on his own. You know that being a single father isn't easy. Besides, you're both men, can't you cut him some slack?" Not only was I willing to "cut him some slack," but I was also willing to step aside completely. I was willing to be the bigger man so the two of them could raise that child together. I packed my things and left, taking the initiative to apply for an overseas program in architecture. To my confusion, she came running to me, crying and begging me not to go. Still, it was too little, too late.