Skip Beat Fanfiction

“I'm going to take you to the edge, kitten, and you're going to beg for more,” Axel whispered, his hot breath sending shivers down Amber's spine. Her eyes snapped open, locking onto his. The intensity in his gaze made her pulse race. She felt his fingers dig into her hips, pulling her against his hardened body. “Is that a promise?” Amber whispered, her body already screaming to be touched. Axel's lips curled into a sly smile. “It's a warning.” Amber's heart skipped a beat as Axel's hands slid up her back, unzipping her dress. The fabric slipped off her shoulders, pooling around her feet. She stood before him, vulnerable yet unafraid. “Tonight, you're mine, little kitten,” **** Amber had always wished to have her brother’s infamous best friend since she was in high school but is hurt because he only treats her like a little sister. When Amber got admitted to college and moved in with her brother, she is surprised to see that her longtime crush was under the same roof. Her brother leaves for an important business, and she is left alone with this hot devil. She knew this was her chance to get him, and she wasn’t ready to screw it. Axel had always loved Amber but knew she was off bounds because she was his best friend’s sister, but when she is left in his care, he began to lose control. From stolen kisses to steamy sessions, he knew he was in trouble when he became addicted to this little kitten. ~~~ The Badboy’s Little Kitten is a two in one series… BOOK ONE: Stolen Moments: My Brother’s Best Friend BOOK TWO: Whispers Of Seduction: We Meet Again, Little Kitten Bask in the steam because it only gets hotter!!! ©️Purple Ink 2024

His voice dropped lower. “You saw the news, didn’t you? The little warning on the LED TV?” Her eyes flickered. “…Yes, sir.” “Then why didn’t you turn back?” Her mouth opened, but no words came out. “And you saw they’ve never shown my face on the news.” He tapped his temple, eyes glinting. “But now you’re staring right at me. You know exactly what I look like. You think I’ll let you walk away?” “No! Please!” Isabella’s voice cracked, tears falling. “I promise with my mother’s grave—I’ll never speak of this! Please, just spare me!” Alessandro smirked, lifting his gun. “People like you swear. People like you also betray. Let’s see…” Her whole body locked. “No, no, please—” The gun fired. Isabella screamed. But when she opened her eyes, the bullet hole smoked in the wooden floor beside her. Her chest heaved. Her hands shook. She collapsed onto the ground, sobbing. Alessandro leaned back, laughing softly. Then—something in her snapped. She pushed herself up on trembling legs. “You want to kill me? Then fucking do it!” His brows lifted. “What the fuck is wrong with you gangsters?” she yelled, her voice shaking. “Do I look like someone who can hurt you? You almost made me wet my pants out there with your bullets. Do you think that’s funny?” One of his men growled, stepping forward, hand raised. “How dare you talk to the boss like that—” “Stop,” Alessandro ordered sharply, raising his hand without taking his eyes off her. Isabella’s chest heaved. “You think taking lives is funny?” She beat her chest with her fist. “Fine. I’m going to walk out that door right now. Shoot me if you want.”

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.