He infiltrated her world to destroy her father. She let down her guard to love him. But when the truth surfaces, who will survive the fallout of deception?
He infiltrated her world to destroy her father. She let down her guard to love him. But when the truth surfaces, who will survive the fallout of deception?
Liam
I wasn't Liam West anymore.
The name felt foreign-like a coat I'd long since outgrown
and buried in a place I never planned to revisit. Liam was soft edges and
childhood dreams. Liam forgave. Liam hoped.
But I? I had no use for such things anymore.
Now, I was Leo Carter. And Leo didn't hope. He planned.
My reflection stared back at me from the mirror, sharp and
still. Blue eyes-calculated, unflinching-met my gaze. They held no emotion.
Just focus. The kind of cold, deep blue that made people hesitate. My jaw,
freshly shaved, cut a clean line beneath high cheekbones and a mouth that
rarely smiled unless it needed to.
Dark hair framed my face, styled immaculately-sleek, parted,
nothing rebellious. Everything in place.
I tightened my tie, navy silk against a crisp white shirt.
The charcoal suit jacket fit like it was stitched to my bones, hugging broad
shoulders with precision. One last breath, one last glance.
No cracks.
No hesitations.
I picked up my black suitcase and stepped out of the apartment.
The hallway was quiet, the scent of disinfectant clinging to the air. The cold
morning greeted me like a slap-brisk, almost bracing, and perfect. Let the
world try to bite; I was ready.
The bus ride into the city was slow and mundane. Horns.
Murmurs. The occasional rattle of wheels over cracked concrete. I sat in
silence, surrounded by commuters absorbed in screens or staring blankly out the
windows. They had places to be. Lives to lead.
I had a mission.
And soon, I saw it.
Grayson Corp rose into view like a titan of glass and steel,
its mirrored surface catching the pale sunlight and throwing it back like a
dare. Thirty stories of ambition, intimidation, and power, nestled in the heart
of the financial district. The giant silver "G" emblem gleamed at the top
corner, sharp as a blade.
A modern palace built on polished lies.
Grayson Corp was a conglomerate of everything that made
people rich and afraid to talk about how. Real estate. Tech. Legal
acquisitions. Security. They called it "corporate versatility." I called it
something else entirely.
My fingers flexed around the handle of my suitcase.
No one knew who I was. Not really. And that anonymity was my
weapon.
I stepped off the bus, straightened my jacket, and walked
across the pavement toward the tall, curved glass doors. The closer I got, the
more it towered over me-like it was looking down.
I looked right back.
Then I walked in.
The lobby was vast and clinical, bathed in natural light
pouring in through the wide windows. The floors were white marble veined with
gold, polished to a mirror-like sheen. A giant abstract sculpture spiraled up
from the center, surrounded by minimalist leather chairs arranged like chess
pieces. People moved about with brisk purpose, not stopping to look-just
another day at the kingdom.
No one spared me more than a glance. Just another
well-dressed man in a sea of them.
I found the reception desk and gave my name. A polite smile,
a nod, a motion toward the elevators.
Third floor.
I stepped inside the lift and watched the doors glide shut.
My reflection wavered slightly on the mirrored wall.
"You've got one shot," I muttered under my breath. "Make it
count."
The doors opened with a chime, and I stepped out into a
smaller, more focused lobby. Warm lighting, wood paneling, indoor plants that
were suspiciously real-this was a curated space. Designed to impress. To
disarm.
A few others were already seated, likely other candidates.
All of them trying not to look nervous. I sat down in the corner, crossed one
leg over the other, and waited. Calm. Quiet. Watching everything.
After a few minutes, a receptionist called, "Leo Carter?"
I stood.
And then, I walked into the room.
What I wasn't expecting-what threw me, if only for a
second-was the woman waiting for me on the other side of the desk.
She wasn't what I'd imagined.
No clipboard-clicking HR veteran. No stuffy assistant with
tired eyes.
She has golden blonde hair that framed a face that was
almost sculptural in its symmetry-high cheekbones, wide green eyes that held
both sharpness and curiosity, and a calm, commanding expression. She wore a
fitted navy blazer and subtle pearl earrings. No nonsense. But not unkind.
I blinked once. Just once. Then recovered.
"Mr. Carter," she said, her tone polite but guarded. "Take a
seat."
I obeyed.
"Elena," she offered. "I'll be conducting your interview
today."
Just Elena. No last name.
I nodded. "Nice to meet you. I was starting to think this
whole thing was a test in patience."
That earned a faint smile. "We like to see who sticks it
out."
"And here I thought it was just because the elevators were
slow."
The corner of her lip twitched but she didn't comment.
She flipped open the folder in front of her and glanced over
my résumé. Her eyes scanned quickly, noting things, no doubt cataloging gaps,
strengths, inconsistencies.
She asked questions-sharp, smart ones. About forecasting,
risk mitigation, global finance trends.
I answered each one with the polish of a man who belonged.
With just enough data to prove competence, and just enough wit to make her
raise a brow in interest.
When she asked about my approach to portfolio risk
balancing, I leaned in slightly and said, "Like a good soufflé. Too much heat,
and everything collapses. Too little, and it's just scrambled eggs in an
expensive dish."
She chuckled a bit openly this time.
"I don't think I've ever heard financial strategy compared
to French baking."
"High risk, high reward," I said. "Plus, I'm terrible at
cooking, so it's entirely theoretical. If you ever wanted to poison someone and
you called me, I would be able to assist."
She shook her head, amused. "You're an interesting one, Mr.
Carter."
I shrugged. "Better than being forgettable."
The rest of the interview continued smoothly, her questions
faster, sharper now-like she was genuinely intrigued. I stayed composed.
Casual. Let her laugh, but never pushed too hard. Just enough to stay in her
mind when the next name came up.
Eventually, she closed the folder.
"Thank you," she said, standing. "We'll be in touch."
I nodded once. "Pleasure meeting you, Elena."
She didn't respond, but I caught the pause-the smallest
hitch in her breath as I turned.
Back in the lobby, I rejoined the others. Time passed. More
names were called. Some came back looking defeated. Others hopeful.
Then-
"Elena would like to see Leo Carter again."
I stood.
Inside, she didn't waste time. "Congratulations. You got the
job."
I allowed the smile to touch my lips. "I appreciate the
opportunity."
"You start tomorrow. 9 A.M. sharp. Someone from HR will send
you details later today."
"Looking forward to it."
As I stepped out of the office and back through the glass
doors into the city, the wind hit me again-colder now, sharper.
I paused, glancing once over my shoulder.
Grayson Corp stood tall behind me.
Phase one was done.
And as I walked toward the corner and disappeared into the
crowd, I whispered to myself-
"Now the game begins."
On the night she was meant to be claimed, Eira Thorn was publicly rejected by her fated mate and banished without reason. Left broken and alone, she ventures into cursed lands no wolf dares cross-and disappears. But fate has other plans. Waking in a forbidden territory ruled by magic and shadows, Eira finds herself hunted for a power she doesn't understand, haunted by a mark that shouldn't exist, and torn between the Alpha who betrayed her, the Beta who would die for her, and the ruler of a kingdom that shouldn't be real. A dark force stirs beneath the surface of their world. And at the center of it all... is her.
Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.
Noelle was the long-lost daughter everyone had been searched for, yet the family brushed her off and fawned over her stand-in. Tired of scorn, she walked away and married a man whose influence could shake the country. Dance phenom, street-race champ, virtuoso composer, master restorer-each secret triumph hit the headlines, and her family's smug smiles cracked. Father charged back from abroad, mother wept for a hug, and five brothers knelt in the rain begging. Beneath the jeweled night sky, her husband pulled her close, his voice a velvet promise. "They're not worth it. Come on, let's just go home."
Rejected by her mate, who had been her long-time crush, Jasmine felt utterly humiliated. Seeking solace, she headed to a party to drown her sorrows. But things took a turn for the worse when her friends issued a cruel dare: kiss a stranger or beg her mate for forgiveness. With no other choice, Jasmine approached a stranger and kissed him, thinking that would be the end of it. However, the stranger unexpectedly wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, "You're mine!" He growled, his words sending shivers down her spine. And then, he offered her a solution that would change everything...
"I heard you're going to marry Marcelo. Is this perhaps your revenge against me? It's very laughable, Renee. That man can barely function." Her foster family, her cheating ex, everyone thought Renee was going to live in pure hell after getting married to a disabled and cruel man. She didn't know if anything good would ever come out of it after all, she had always thought it would be hard for anyone to love her but this cruel man with dark secrets is never going to grant her a divorce because she makes him forget how to breathe.
Dayna had worshiped her husband, only to watch him strip her late mother's estate and lavish devotion on another woman. After three miserable years, he discarded her, and she lay broken-until Kristopher, the man she once betrayed, dragged her from the wreckage. He now sat in a wheelchair, eyes like tempered steel. She offered a pact: she would mend his legs if he helped crush her ex. He scoffed, yet signed on. As their ruthless alliance caught fire, he uncovered her other lives-healer, hacker, pianist-and her numb heart stirred. But her groveling ex crawled back. "Dayna, you were my wife! How could you marry someone else? Come back!"
At their wedding night, Kayla caught her brand-new husband cheating. Reeling and half-drunk, she staggered into the wrong suite and collapsed into a stranger's arms. Sunrise brought a pounding head-and the discovery she was pregnant. The father? A supremely powerful tycoon who happened to be her husband's ruthless uncle. Panicked, she tried to run, but he barred the door with a faint, dangerous smile. When the cheating ex begged, Kayla lifted her chin and declared, "Want a second chance at us? Ask your uncle." The tycoon pulled her close. "She's my wife now." The ex gasped, "What!?"
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