Book About Enemies To Lovers Novels & Stories

“So you done talking outside, and now it's me?” “Apparently not,” I said, crossing my arms. “What’s your deal? You’ve been walking around like the world ended.” “Maybe it did.” I blinked. “You’re not even making sense now.” He dropped the phone beside him. “Then stop trying to understand me and just let me be, we aren't friends anyway.” Ok, that hurt. “Ryan, what the hell happened? Did I do something wrong? If I did, you can tell me, I promise I will apologise even if you think I'm still your enemy, it doesn't change anything."

I could feel the two of them—the broken star and the vengeful critic circling each other in the dark. The tension between them was palpable, a physical charge that hummed through the penthouse. I’d planned for proximity. I’d planned for a certain level of… shared trauma to bond them. It made the story better. The Enemy to friends arc was a bestseller for a reason. But Anya was starting to look at him with something more dangerous than professional curiosity. And he was looking at her like she was the only thing keeping him from drifting into the abyss. If they united against me, it would be messy. Not impossible to handle, but messy.

After, they lay pressed close, hearts racing, bodies warm and spent. "This complicates things," Muna said finally, her head on his chest. "Everything about us is complicated." His fingers traced patterns on her bare shoulder. "But maybe that's not entirely bad." "How can you say that? We're enemies who got married for business. Now someone's trying to destroy us both, and we're..." "What? What are we, Muna?" She couldn’t answer. The truth was too dangerous to admit. They were meant to hate each other, meant to plot each other’s ruin. Yet here she was, lying in his arms, feeling safer than she had in years.

“Good. Because I plan to ruin you every night and save you every morning.” I kissed her deeply, pouring every ounce of regret, love, and determination into it. The pack outside still feared me. The healing would take years. But with her beside me—my enemy, my lover, my wife—I finally believed we might survive the beautiful disaster we’d created. This was our story. Enemies to lovers. Ruin and redemption. And for the first time in forever, I was ready to live it. The End.

When the waiter left the silence settled between us like something with weight. I reached into my bag. Pulled out the document. Unfolded it slowly. Deliberately. The paper made a soft sound against the tablecloth as I placed it flat between us. "I think you know what this is," I said. The candle between us flickered. He glanced at it. Then back at me. His expression didn't change by a single degree. "A seven year old business report," he said.

He looked pass the scars I had gotten from missions and kissed each one of them so tenderly that all I thought was him. I had promised myself last night that it would only be once but then this morning I woke up with his limbs tangled with my own and I couldn't help getting turned on by the sight of him. I wasn't one to sleep around, in fact the last time I had sex was with my ex boyfriend Jeffrey in high school, who cheated on me every chance he got. He had broken me so badly that I started to have a hatred for men.

I hissed angrily, advancing in his direction, hating that he kept me hanging when I thought I would get all the answers tonight. “I already did,” he said, controlling his voice. “This will be the last night we’ll see each other, Brielle.” “What?” I murmured, confused at him. I blinked at him, thinking about what I had done wrong. “Why?” It was stupid of me to ask, but I had to know. “I can’t fall in love with an enemy,” he said, staring at me intently. “Let’s just say we belong to different Orders which weren’t exactly in order.”

I forced myself to still, my breathing ragged as I stared at her. "What the fuck are you talking about?" I finally rasped. Kaelie’s lips trembled. And then, she said the words that shattered everything. "He’s working with the enemy. He’s working with a mafia gang." The floor beneath me might as well have cracked open. My vision blurred with fury and disbelief. "You’re lying."

he warned, his voice low. "Outside of this paper, you're still my enemy. We aren't friends, Zane." ​"Yeah, whatever. Enemy, rival, stranger pick your favorite label," Zane rolled his eyes, though there was a flicker of something like hurt in his gaze that he quickly masked. "But, at least around our parents, try not to look like you hate my guts. We need them to believe we’re happy so they stop poking into our business. Shouldn't fake love at least look halfway real?"

“That’s all you need to know.” “No,” I said, voice low. “That’s all you want me to know.” He met my gaze “She is the key to keeping our enemies off our neck. That should be enough to answer your questions” It wasn’t,Because something about her clung tightly around my mind. Something about her silence, her cold stare, that scent I couldn’t place,It lit a fuse I thought had burned out long ago,and for the first time in four years, I felt it again.That same pull I felt four years ago Who the hell is she?