Not your doormat anymore Novels & Stories

Ava's POV I had never owned a suit. I took a black blazer I had bought for a dinner I never wanted to attend and a pair of dark trousers that fit well enough, pinned my hair back, put on little makeup and added small gold earrings that had belonged to my mother. I looked at myself in the mirror for exactly three seconds and then I picked up my notebook and left before anyone in the house was awake. Donovan Enterprises occupied the top fourteen floors of a glass tower in the financial district that caught the morning light and threw it back at you like a warning.

I snapped and tried to drag the door but he was certainly stronger. “Home? I already bought your apartment in Newville Margaret. You have no home there” “What?!!!”

“That you never give me another reason to show you how.” The door closed. -------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ignored again. Knock knock knock knock knock knock. ["What?!" "Well, if you'd allowed me to figure out why I was itching to go to the training grounds then you'd have know that our mate is there." "Ughhhhh! Why didn't you say that earlier?" "Mehmehmehmehmehmeh! That's what you sound like."]

"Where the hell did you disappear to? I'm done with all this drama. Get your ass back here!" Meanwhile, I was too drained to fight or raise my voice. I didn't want him anymore. Neither he nor his home belonged in my life any longer.

Knock. At my door.

Not by anyone. Not this time.

Not this early * * *

A mate again? Don't come to abandon! Just stay!

Right before the syndicate's power handover, I flew back to New York after a year of studying jewelry design in Europe. But the night before the ceremony, my secret boyfriend of three years—the Rossi family's new second-in-command—sent me a text: [Sorry, Chloe. I lost a card game, and you were my chip. You're his problem now.] Before I could even breathe, I got tagged in the family's encrypted dark-web channel. The top thread was blowing up: [The Mafia Boss Just Won a Fat Pig for a Girlfriend!] Pinned right at the top was an old photo of me from a few years ago. Back when I was 180 pounds. The comment section was ruthless: [If the Boss knew what he actually won, he'd regret making that bet.]