His Beauty Her Beast
Feriha Writerbullied by my stepbrothersbullied by my alpha stepbrotherfalling for my boyfriend's father
I asked for something safe—pasta with roasted vegetables—while Damon ordered steak and wine like he came here often.
As the waiter walked away, he leaned his elbows on the table and said, “So, Elena… what’s your story?”
“Oh, you know,” I replied, trying to sound casual, “just a perfectly normal girl who nearly got run over by a truck, only to be saved by a man whose dog has a sixth sense for tragedy. Totally standard stuff.”
He laughed, a deep, rich sound that made my heart weirdly ache. “Okay, fair. But what else? What do you do? What brings you to that part of town walking like a ghost?”
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