Betrayed In The Mafia's Bed
I typed out the title in bold letters: 'Snowbound Enemies: A Hate-F-ck Holiday'.
I stumbled through the blizzard, snow whipping my face like a thousand icy slaps, my boots sinking into drifts up to my knees. Fucking him, Jax Coulter, the smug bastard who'd ruined my promotion at the firm six months ago, stealing my biggest client with that cocky grin and tailored suit hiding what I bet was a mediocre díck. We were rivals, enemies forged in boardroom battles and passive-aggressive emails, but tonight fate, or some cruel holiday joke, had stranded us together after our cars skidded off the road on this godforsaken mountain pass.
Christmas Eve, of all nights, and now we were clawing toward that
Bab Populer