Playing For Keeps Book Novels & Stories

He was her world. And He shattered her into pieces without even knowing. She had cried her heart out, and at the end she promised herself to have her revenge on him. Even if it's the last thing she ever does! Avalanche Park Had walked into his world this time as a completely different person, the innocent secretary who was on a mission to use any means possible to steal his heart, and then shatter it all into pieces. But, Green walker isn't just a CEO. He's a gang leader. One thing leads to the other, and the new secretary wakes up the next morning, only to find herself lying next to.him. A one night stand...with the man she had planned to get her revenge on. A one night stand...with the Playboy CEO. A one night stand...With a man who doesn't looks like he's going to let go of her anytime soon. Even though she's been hiding two big secrets from him...

“Shoot me, butterfly, do it,” Russo said with a smirk, and Chloe’s grip on the firearm faltered. “Who says I can't?” She retorted, hoping her hesitancy wasn’t showing on my face. “You love me, butterfly, but if you are going to do it, look into my eyes.” He replied and Chloe chuckled. “Your problem is that you trust everyone to much.” Chloe smirked before looking straight into his eyes and taking the shot. ____ Everything changed for FBI agent, Chloe Bells when she walked in on her husband cheating. Her barely surviving marriage fell apart, and Chloe was losing herself fast in the quicksands. When the FBI offered her a chance to catch a break, she took it happily. One of her hardest undercover missions was to bring in one of the most feared men in the world, Alessandro Russo. It shouldn’t be hard for Chloe to transition into Alissa, the street fighter who needs a job, but nothing prepared her for the consequences of working closely with the crime boss himself—consequences like falling for him and going against her undercover instructions!

Charlie Wayne’s life is perfect. Or it was. As a VP who commands boardrooms and a playboy who elegantly ends every date at his door by 3 AM, Charlie’s world is built on control. But lately, his system has a glitch. A streak of bizarre, comically bad luck—flat tires at dawn, mysterious fire alarms, untimely food poisoning—keeps derailing his plans. His flawless exit strategy is in shambles. Carly Dorrington’s life is a lie. But a necessary one. After a blowout fight with her father over their family companies’ merger, Carly needs a place to stay. Where better than with her childhood best friend, Charlie? It’s just temporary. Just two best friends sharing a space. It has nothing to do with the two decades she’s spent loving him from the sidelines, or the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, proximity will make the world’s most oblivious man finally see her. Now, under his roof, the "coincidences" multiply. Charlie’s chaotic love life grinds to a halt just as Carly’s presence becomes a permanent, comforting fixture. His sacred rules don’t seem to apply to her. His peaceful solitude feels warmer with her in it. As the lines of their friendship blur, Charlie is left to wonder: Is Carly the calm in the center of his storm… or is she the one who’s been stirring it up all along? Note: This is a slow-burn, dual-POV story about best friends, blurred lines, and the long game. If you find yourself wondering"where is this going?" in the early chapters... keep reading. Everything becomes clear in Chapter 4. The foundation is being laid for a reason. Thank you for trusting the process.

Dashmel thought her luck had finally changed when her broke college boyfriend suddenly became rich. She hoped his rise would lift her too… until he dumped her in the cruelest way possible. His reason being that, she wasn’t good looking enough. The worst part was that Dashmel knew he was right. He wasn’t the first person to break up with her for that very reason, and he probably won't be the last. Dashmel was shamed, heartbroken, and unable to escape the rumors on campus. Her college life falls apart... until she crosses paths with Jack. A mysterious and dangerous billionaire. A man rumored by the FBI to be the devil himself. Jack offers her everything she has ever wanted... Wealth, social status, and a secret, forbidden treatment that could make her truly beautiful. Desperate for a new life, Dashmel is willing to pay any price... even her soul. But the devil named Jack doesn’t want her soul. He just wants her to play a game.

Lynan finally decided to reveal that he’s gay to steer clear of his sister’s playing cupid schemes. He doesn’t want to get involved again with anyone at the moment and just plans to live happily and peacefully behind his precious camera. Unbeknownst to him, his sister signed him up in a show with a reclusive CEO as the man of the hour. Unfortunately, no amount of complaining and grumbling could get him out of the predicament. The man was a feast for the eyes though. In order to avoid all the possible drama and just have fun ogling the man, Lynan was determined to be a wallflower and stay in the shadows. Watching things unfold could be enough entertainment to leisurely pass the time, right?

One night, as I was making my way to the bathroom around 3 a.m., I saw my dormmate, Yvonne, squatting in front of our door. She was rearranging all our shoes so that their tips were pointed inward. I thought it was funny, so I rearranged them to have their tips pointed outward. The next day, I found that all of them had been positioned inward again. This kept happening for a week, and I continued to scramble things up, hiding the shoes, even, or tying the shoelaces together. But they always ended up being repositioned neatly inward. I started observing my dormmate and found her mumbling to the shoes while squatting at the door. I ranted about it online, only to have my first reply send chills down my spine. [Do you also get the weird feeling that something paranormal is happening around you? You have to move out before it’s too late!]

In the third year of my relationship with Dante Santoro, heir to the Santoro family fortune, I got pregnant. The night before the Don's birthday banquet, he finally brought me home as his girlfriend. Giulia Costa, the housekeeper's daughter, smiled sweetly and asked about my food allergies. I mentioned I was allergic to truffles. In the end, every dish at dinner was loaded with truffles. I swallowed my irritation and grabbed a slice of cake that looked safe. Two bites in, I heard her laugh. "I got creative and mixed truffle powder into the frosting. How is it?" Before I could answer, my throat closed up and I could not breathe. Giulia gasped and covered her mouth. "Ms. Leone, your skin is turning purple! Do you have some kind of contagious disease?" Everyone watched as I was carried out like trash. The moment my allergic reaction cleared up, Giulia insisted on helping me pack. I told her multiple times not to touch my ring. In the few minutes I spent in the bathroom, she "accidentally" knocked it down the drain. That was the wedding ring Dante gave me. I lost my temper and confronted her, but Dante just laughed it off. "She's jealous of your pretty ring. Don't be so petty." That night, Giulia brought sleep-aid drinks to my room as an apology. Dante convinced me to accept her peace offering. I drank a few cups and felt drowsy almost immediately. When Giulia walked me back to my room, I told her to lock the door behind her. Ten minutes later, a group of men shoved their way inside and beat my stomach until I miscarried. The baby was gone. Giulia's eyes filled with tears as she claimed she never saw anyone enter. She said I never wanted the Santoro family to have an heir and had orchestrated my own abortion. Dante went white with rage and ordered his men to dump me in the ocean. When I opened my eyes again, it was the night before the banquet.

~ ALISTAIR ~ I hate him. There’s no point in admiring what you can’t be. I hate his sharp tongue, his smug smirk, the way he looks at me like he already knows how this ends. I don’t like men. Calvin Rutledge is a problem. A problem I can’t ignore. A problem that’s in my face, under my skin, unraveling me one smirk at a time. But the worst part? I want him. And he knows it. Now, every glance burns, every touch lingers, and every fight makes me crave the one thing I swore I’d never want—him. A man. A know-it-all who plays by his own rules. I was never supposed to want him. And yet, here I am… falling. __ ~ CALVIN ~ I know his type. Rich. Arrogant. A cocky football star who thinks the world revolves around him. Alistair Morano is all that—and more. My sworn enemy. My reluctant project partner. My ‘boss’. He thinks I’m just another nerd he can push around. Cute. But here’s the thing—he’s the one being played. By the time he realizes I’m the one pulling the strings, it’ll be too late. Because he’ll be mine. Mine to tease. Mine to break. Mine to ruin. And when he finally falls? I’ll be right there, waiting to catch him, just to break him all over again.

Ten years with Don Maximus. I went from the crazy girl who demanded his "undying loyalty" at gunpoint to Chicago's perfect Donna. When Maximus took the casino's hottest stripper to his private room, I didn't lose my mind. Instead, I tossed the woman the keys to a Manhattan penthouse. When Maximus's new flame threw a tantrum at a yacht party, I didn't bat an eye. Instead, after she slapped a waiter in a fit of pique, I made the police problem go away. When Maximus fought with one of his girls, I'd even send her a limited-edition Birkin to smooth things over. And today, Maximus is busy fucking his hot new toy in the study, while another pregnant mistress stands on the estate's rooftop, threatening to jump just to see him. And I'm still the one in my red-bottom heels, calmly going to clean up his mess. The mistress screamed, desperate. "I'm not having this baby! Get Maximus!" I took a sip of my wine, my voice bored. "He's busy today. You have the baby, and I'll make sure seven figures show up in your offshore account." My indifference set her off. She grabbed my wrist, her grip like iron. "You're pathetic, Angelina! There was a time he wouldn't even look at another woman because of you. He slaughtered an entire family for you. When you were shot, he knelt in the pouring rain outside a church, begging God to take his life for yours! But now? You can't even get into his bed. All you can do is stand here and play the gracious Donna!" Her nails left red marks on my skin, but the smile on my face didn't crack. Did she really think a little drama would change anything? I wasn't playing the gracious Donna. I was just done. And I was finally ready to let Maximus go.

We were on our way to celebrate our son’s birthday when we got into a car crash. When I woke up, I looked at my family gathered around my hospital bed and cracked a joke: “Sorry, but who are you guys?” I held back a smile, curious to see how they'd humor their "amnesiac" patient. Would my mother grab my hand in a panic? Would my husband look at me with worry? Would my son rush over, crying and calling me Mom? What I didn't expect was for them to freeze for a moment—and then, almost in unison, let out sighs of relief. My mother was the first to speak, her tone unmistakably lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted. "If you don’t remember, it’s probably for the best. This is Lindsay—your sister, she’s my daughter. You were adopted." My husband then pointed at me and said to our son, "You should call her Aunt Wendy." Before the shock could even sink in, I watched the child I'd fought so hard to protect turn and throw himself into the arms of Lindsay. "Mom! I played outside all day. I missed you so much!" So that was the truth. My amnesia was exactly what they'd been hoping for. In that case, I didn't need this made-up life anymore.