Login to MoboReader
icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Log out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

BrunaJhon

BrunaJhon's Books(15)

 Billionaire & CEO

Billionaire & CEO

Romance
5.0
happy," Killian said. "Happy that I hacked them?" Happy that they know their vulnerabilities and how Sentinel Security can help eliminate them. And pay Killian a billion dollars for his work. Sentinel did all sorts of security. I knew Killian had a private army of ex-military badasses, but he also specialized in cybersecurity. I'd been working for Sentinel for several years. Companies hired me to test their systems and improve their security. It was a good business. I used my special skills and got a paycheck at the end of each month. "I'll email you your next job, Remi." The slightest tilt of Killian's lips. "Or should I say, Rogue Angel?" I smiled. "You're not supposed to know my secret identity." "I work security, remember?" "Bye, Bossman." I ended the conversation, closed my laptop, and glanced at the clock. The kids would be home from school soon, and my stomach growled. Mmm, I could use some of Mama's cookies. I walked around my loft space. It wasn't big, but it was mine. It had an industrial vibe, with my bed in one corner, shrouded in sheer curtains. A small kitchen that I barely used was in another corner, a door leading to my compact bathroom, and an open-plan living area where my desk sat in prime position against the opposite wall. My gaze settled on a photo above the desk. I got a little shiver every time I saw it. It was of an angel warrior, coming in to land on the battlefield. I had a thing for angels. His huge white wings were spread, sword in hand, boots about to touch the ground. His body was mostly in shadow, but that didn't hide the power of his musculature, or the hint of a rugged face. Wrinkling my nose, I sighed. I wished they made men like that in real life. I walked down the stairs, my boots thumping on the metal steps. The noise assaulted me. There was some tool whirring nearby, and I also grabbed a supply of grease, gas, and exhaust. My loft was above my foster brother's auto shop. At the bottom of the stairs, I turned and saw three cars in various states of disrepair-one parked with the hood open, one hooked up to some machine, and another on a hoist with a mechanic underneath. I recognized Steve's thin frame and baggy, dingy jeans. He was busy, and the guy who worked for him was on vacation, so I guess that was why he was working on a Sunday. I walked out the open front doors. Brr. It was a cold, gloomy day in Brooklyn. I wrapped my arms around myself. I should have grabbed my jacket, but thankfully I wasn't going far. I walked to the house next to the two-story brick house and opened the gate. The metal creaked. The house had a basement apartment, where Steve lived with his four-year-old daughter, Kaylee. I ran up the steps to the main house and opened the door. "Hello!" "We're here," a female voice said. I found Mama Alma in the kitchen. Of course, where else would she be? Kaylee was on the floor having a tea party with her dolls and bears. "Remi!" The little blonde princess jumped up and ran to me. I picked her up and she wrapped her arms and legs around me. I breathed in her apple-scented shampoo. "Hey, KayKay. Are you being good to Mama?" Kaylee smiled and nodded. Then she squirmed and I set her down on the floor to go back to her tea party guests. Mama smiled and I walked over to kiss her thin, dark cheek. She smelled like home. For the first eight years of my life, I didn't know what that word meant. Then the angels smiled on me and sent an angry little girl to a foster home run by Mama. She had owned this house in Sunset Park, Brooklyn for years. The small warehouse next door was her husband's. Unable to have children of their own, they became foster parents. Big Mike had died a year before I arrived, but Alma had never stopped opening her home. And some of us hadn't really left. I would be twenty-seven on my next birthday, and I hadn't gone very far. Steve had been one of Mama's first foster children. Kaylee was Steve's daughter, but Mama still had three children with her-two boys, ages nine and ten, and a teenage girl. "I'll pour us some tea," Mama said. I sank into the chair at the rickety table. The kitchen hadn't changed in decades. "I'd rather have a shot of bourbon to celebrate. I just finished a job." Mama made a sound in her throat. "We don't have bourbon in this house." I picked up a cookie from the plate on the table. Mmm. Chocolate chip, my favorite. She set a teacup in front of me. Mama loved collecting the flowery, delicate teacups at outdoor markets. None of them matched. Like my family, Mama always told me. When I finished my cookie, I studied Mama-she looked tired and her face was drawn. I grimaced. Mama always said she was a mix of the best-African-American, a dash of Hispanic, and a bit of hardy Irish stock. I guess that's why I liked her at first sight-I was a mix, too. Mostly Hispanic, though I had no idea who my parents were. I probably had an African-American ancestor somewhere in the tree, too, and a few other things-who knows what-crept in.
Majestic CEO

Majestic CEO

Romance
5.0
You killed them... You killed them... The image of the car falling off the cliff, and me watching the scene through the cloudy glass, whose windshield was trying uselessly to clear it, was something that had stayed with me for five years. Almost every night, that nightmare was my greatest companion. Except that, when I woke up, I didn't feel the relief of not being in my reality. On the contrary... the empty bed was proof enough that the death of two people so important in my life was not an illusion. I was the one who caused that death. It was my fault and no one else's. I always knew I was a controlling son of a bitch, and I fought day after day not to suffocate Taís with my temper. She was never submissive, not at all, and that was what I loved most about her personality, although it was a fetish of mine in bed that my wife had never been able to fulfill. Maybe, that day, I should have let my fucking control freak take over and locked her in the house to stop her from leaving. Much less taking our son with her. Or maybe I shouldn't have followed them, swearing I would be protecting them. That the best option was to try to bring her back home. Taís was no longer happy. She never wanted marriage. Pregnancy had led her to agree to our union, but she was too young. I had convinced her, and nothing would ever make me regret it so much again. Being a father was my dream. It still was, in fact. I hadn't expected to have a child only to lose him less than a year later. He would have been six by then. He would have been running around at that party, just like the beautiful little girl in the pink dress whose parents had already scolded her more than once. I hated parties like that, where all that reigned was hypocrisy. Where people looked at me as if I were watching each one of them to write down any little mistake on my list of future dismissals. So, a breath of fresh air like that, the sound of a child's laughter, her mischievous manner... all of that almost made me smile. Almost. The little girl was probably the daughter of one of my employees. I couldn't say for sure, because I wasn't exactly attentive to their personal lives. What really mattered to me was their performance within the office. I used to be a little more sociable – but only a little – but after Taís died, I literally closed myself off from the world. At the office, I was known as Iron Man; I was just as controlling as I was in my personal life. People didn't know that this information was passed on to me, but unfortunately for them, the only person who had any access to me was my secretary, and she would tell me this with a laugh. I didn't find the nickname that funny, although her laugh was adorable. By the way, she was at the party. She was very pretty – that was what I could see from a distance. A simple black dress, not much different from the ones she wore to work, but definitely new. One of the only friends I had, who was the commercial director of Sodemberg – the company I owned and which was in the nautical tourism industry – always told me that I was crazy about Diana, the secretary. That was the vulgar word he used, although I couldn't
CEO arrogant

CEO arrogant

Romance
5.0
solution to her problems lies in the hands of the man she swore to hate. Now graduated and a renowned professional, Dandara realizes that her awards are incapable of helping her realize her dream of producing a documentary. Meanwhile, Marcello will do everything he can to get a second chance with the woman he hurt by offering her an irresistible proposal: to produce the documentary exactly the way she wants. Amidst indecent provocations and conversations full of ulterior motives, will Dandara be able to resist the temptation to fulfill her wish? - Are you paying attention? - asks Cris, my secretary, in a tired voice. - Yes, I am - I confirm, forcing myself to take my eyes off my cell phone. I just received an intriguing message from a press officer who, in elaborate half-words, makes it clear how much she would like to sleep with me. My fingers itch to open the attachment and confirm whether the photo is nude, but I focus on keeping my attention on the woman sitting in front of the wooden desk covered in papers. Around us, the last rays of the late afternoon sun illuminate the huge office with floor-to-ceiling windows. Cris takes a deep breath, aware that I wasn't paying attention to anything he said. - The director of the morning newspaper is furious about the approval of the new commercials and wants to schedule a meeting. - Why? I don't see any reason for him to be furious - I comment. - To discuss whether the time is ideal for broadcasting the advertisement for penis enlargement capsules. He thinks it would be better during the commercials on the evening entertainment programs. I resist cracking a half smile. A few years ago, when she started working for me, Cris would blush like a ripe tomato at the mention of even the slightest word related to a sexual organ. Now, accustomed to what we convey here, she doesn't even flinch. "We don't need to schedule a meeting," I reply cheerfully. "The commercials are working, the board of directors is happy with the increase in profits, and I personally believe that any time is a good time to help poor men with small penises. If they're happy to buy the product during the morning news, it's during the morning news that it will be sold. Anything else?" "Yes, the department..." My phone rings. I quickly signal for it to hold and answer. Cris seems to need all her willpower not to roll her eyes. "Hi, son, how are you?" I recognize Dona Francisca's voice. "Everything. What's up?" I cover the phone and smile at the secretary. "Just a minute, it's my mother." She nods and begins to carefully examine the cuticles of her red-painted nails. "Are you coming to visit me on Sunday?" "Yes, I am. Why?" "Bring lunch ready. I'm too lazy to cook." I laugh out loud. It's only Friday and my mother is thinking about Sunday. By then, she'll call me two or three more times confirming the visit and changing her mind about cooking. I just hope the mysterious advisor doesn't want to schedule something on Sunday. I need to keep that in mind when I ask her out. "I'll take it, don't worry," I confirm. Cris taps her shoes on the floor impatiently. "Sorry, Mom, but I have to go. I'm in the middle of a meeting with my secretary." "You're not going out with her, are you? I'm not going out with Cris. She's married and has two children, but I can't say I've stopped dating other secretaries. Here, on this same table, in front of the glass wall that covers half the room, while the sunset over the city of São Paulo covered us in orange tones. The helicopters from competing broadcasters would have been quite a sight if they had been passing near the building at that moment. "I'm not. I really have to go. See you on Sunday." "Okay. Kisses." "Another one," I reply. As soon as she puts her phone down, I hang up mine and turn to Cris. "I always ask her to call me at work only in case of emergency, but you know how it is. People over sixty think, rightly, that they can do whatever they want." I smile and focus my attention on the secretary. "What were you saying, Cris?" "The print media sector wants to know when the contract with the new printing company is signed.
CEO of Taurus

CEO of Taurus

Romance
5.0
beautiful and dear, about to turn eighty-five. On the other side, my cousin Max tells one of his lame jokes to my parents. My mother rolls her eyes and shakes her head, probably finding the outcome ridiculous. My father, on the other hand, laughs out loud, his powerful voice drowning out the chatter. "Did you hear that one, Lorenzo?" he asks, gesturing in my direction. "Only about ten times." "You used to be less grumpy," Max says, biting off the end of a cannoli, but not before taking a piece of the flaky shell to throw at me. I dodge in time, and the piece of candy hits the cabinet door before falling to the floor. Maybe I was, I think, giving him the middle finger. Back when I had fewer worries. I cut a piece of tiramisu with the spoon and put it in my mouth. The mixture of cream, champagne biscuit and coffee melts on my tongue. My eyes meet Monalisa's, also my cousin. She returns my gray gaze and somehow I know she wants to interrupt the conversation to talk about business in the middle of Sunday lunch. But first, my mother needs to talk about my life. "He really is gone," she sighs. "Before he broke up with Ingrid." The only reason the table doesn't fall silent is because the family is too noisy for that. I don't have to try to remember my ex-girlfriend there, among them, trying to make herself heard with her soft voice amidst the chaos. Or her moaning softly against my ear while I held her tightly in my arms and with her legs around my waist. "I wasn't the one who broke up with Ingrid." My mother points a finger. "Still, you should try to win her back." I shift on the counter, the cold marble suddenly uncomfortable against my back. Maybe it's better to talk business after all. I never told them I tried. And how I tried. Ingrid and I had been dating for five years when she asked for a break. We got back together and broke up at least three more times, and I never saw any reason to break up for good. But she did. Ingrid said our relationship was settled, that I worked too much and paid her too little attention. I always thought her argument was unfair. I tried to do my best in both of them, but it wasn't enough. We broke up for good, and shortly after, she married someone else. Since then, I've closed my heart to serious relationships. Better than risk getting hurt again. Stopped at red lights on the streets of Goiânia, I sometimes see her walking down the sidewalk holding hands with her three-year-old son. A slight wave of jealousy snakes through my body when she laughs at something her husband says. The sound reverberates inside my closed window, making every hair on my body stand on end, remembering that that laugh had once been mine. "Don't worry. Lorenzo and I are always active. One day he'll bring a nice girl for you to meet," Max scoffs. I narrow my eyes at him, daring him to continue, and he smiles crookedly. "He'll fill this house with grandchildren." "I hope so," Mom says cheerfully. "Because neither you nor your sister seem very worried about doing that." Max's face falls and I almost choke on my mouthful of candy, trying to hold back my laughter. He throws a new piece of cannoli at me, but this time I catch it in mid-air and throw it back at him. The crispy shell hits Monalisa's shoulder. She frowns and, with her fingertips, brushes away the place where the dough touched her clothes, then turns to my mother. "Sorry, auntie, but I'm not interested in babies." On the other hand, I have an important matter to discuss with all of you regarding the company. "Do we really need to talk about this here?" Max asks, serious for the first time since we arrived. We came to spend the weekend and, like me, he hates talking about business during family gatherings. I look at my cousin, trying to predict which bombshell
In the heart of the CEO

In the heart of the CEO

Romance
5.0
Davi Rivera had everything planned out in his life, and that included achieving his greatest ambition, to be the president of the family company. However, what he didn't count on was that an intriguing woman would appear again in his path, or rather, she had never left it. Manuele intrigued him, and made him feel like a young teenager. For a man who always thought about the future, without having time for the present, an unplanned night was too risky. However, he had done it. And that night, he had made her his alone. Manuele Cardoso only had one thing in mind: time doesn't stop. She would be practically alone in the world, if it weren't for the help and affection of her bosses, who always treated her like family. However, she always fought her own battles, and in the hope that one day, she would have someone to call her own, and who knows, spend the rest of her life with that person. What she didn't imagine was that the man who had always awakened her deepest desires would look at her. It was supposed to be just one night, but little did she know that everything would change from that moment on. Davi was determined... Manuele was passionate... A mixture of feelings that bore fruit... A marriage that suddenly became chaos... A secret capable of changing everything... After all, what will be this man's redemption? THE REDEMPTION OF A MARRIAGE get yours by clicking here SYNOPSIS Luíza Monteiro after a disappointment in love became a free spirit, thinking of nothing but a life to the extreme, without regrets, and the last thing she expected was to get involved. However, her best friend, Marcelo, appears in one of her endless nights, where all she wanted was pleasure. However, that night she found much more in the deep blue eyes of the man who was declared a romantic - she found love. Marcelo Carvalho did not expect after three years married to the woman he loved, that somehow, he would be hurt by her again. Luíza had entwined his heart since the first look they exchanged, but for a long time she trampled and rejected her feelings. However, he was not known for giving up on what he wanted, so he married the woman he loved. But time passed, and suddenly, he saw everything around him crumble, and what's more, his trust was broken. The omission about a night in the past ends up destroying the fairy tale they were building. Marcelo finds himself torn between anger and revenge... Luíza finds herself every day further away from the one she swore to love. Is there redemption for a marriage? Synopsis 2 Guilherme Rivera lost not only his sister in an accident, but he also ended up losing the trust of his older brother. A family broken by an omission and the belief that he himself does not deserve love. And he found the same in Jessica's blue eyes, she would not demand anything from him beyond what he could give.
Scoundrel CEO

Scoundrel CEO

Romance
5.0
Los Angeles, away from the watchful eyes of the office, the tension between them reaches a new level. In a universe where the professional mixes with the personal, Sebastian and Chloe discover that the limits are as thin as their own resistance. Between furtive encounters, dialogues full of ulterior motives and a passion that threatens to destroy all the rules, the line between pleasure and danger becomes increasingly blurred. In this game of seduction, who will emerge victorious? Get ready for a story full of chemistry, provocations and twists, where power and pleasure walk hand in hand, and desire is the only rule that matters. PROLOGUE Working at TechFin Corp in San Francisco was everything I had ever wanted. Located in the heart of the city, the office offered a breathtaking view of the San Francisco Bay. The glitter of the waters at dawn, combined with the silhouette of the bridges, created a scene that made me feel invincible. I loved walking to work, feeling the cool Pacific breeze caress my face, a constant reminder of the freedom and possibilities that this city has always offered me. My name is Chloe Carter, I am 28 years old and I was born and raised in the winding hills of San Francisco. Ever since I was a little girl, I have always been fascinated by the pulsating rhythm of this city. The cool wind that blows constantly around here never lets my wavy brown hair stay in place, and perhaps that's a reflection of the intensity I carry with me. My honey-colored eyes capture the nuances of this vibrant city, and my parents always said I had a daring soul, incapable of settling for the ordinary. I guess they were right. Working in the financial analysis department was not for the faint of heart; the routine was always hectic, each day a new challenge, a new mountain to climb. However, I loved it, it was rewarding. Perhaps it was my adventurous spirit, the same one that always drove me to seek more, to explore not only the numbers, but also the emotions and power games that ran silently through the halls of TechFin Corp. But it wasn't just the work that made me tick. I always had a soft spot for the unknown, for those romantic adventures that began with a furtive glance and ended with a racing heart. The adrenaline of a new conquest, the game of seduction-all of this was part of who I was, and I made no effort to hide it. After all, what would life be without a little excitement? My parents, Helen and John Carter, have always supported me, even when I made decisions that many would consider too bold. And my younger sister, Lily, was my greatest accomplice in life's small and big follies. The two of us have always been inseparable, two free souls sailing the same rough sea. That morning, as usual, I arrived at the office early. The sun had barely risen above the horizon, but the TechFin Corp building was already starting to come alive with the movement of the first employees. The air was fresh, and my mind, sharp as ever, ready for another day of challenges. When I walked into my office, it was no surprise to find Jenna at my desk, with a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. Jenna is my best friend and coworker, and if there's one thing I've learned in the time we've spent together, it's that if you arrive before her, you better check your watch, because something is definitely wrong. She was always the first to arrive
Used by the CEO

Used by the CEO

Romance
5.0
Miguel Armani Owner of a large engineering and architecture company. A renowned and respected man wherever he goes. But inside this businessman, there is a lonely and closed man. Miguel is divorced, father of a beautiful five-year-old girl, to whom he dedicates all his love and attention. The only person he swore to love forever. Agatha Parker The youngest heiress of the Parker family, she called off her engagement to the son of her father's friend and ran away from home. A black woman who has suffered a lot in the face of society and her own family. She moved to a new city to start over, leaving everyone who mistreated her behind and staying strong. Her first goal to change her life: get a job! And, by coincidence, the CEO needed a nanny. Fate or coincidence? It doesn't matter! A single and attractive woman. A divorced and lonely man. Fate Secrets Forgiveness Seduction Being a nanny for a five-year-old child seemed easy. But as for enduring the seduction of her boss, easy or impossible? What could a kiss cause? A man determined to do anything to get what he wants And a woman hard to forget. Copyright © 2024 Natália França All rights reserved The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental and is not intentional on the part of the author. No part of this book may be reproduced or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the express written permission of the author. Cover: bk.designereditorial Illustration: cr_bannerss Chapter 1 - Daddy, wait! I turned around seeing my little one coming down the stairs in her uniform, I bent down to hug her, I was intoxicated by the sweet smell of her baby perfume and the smell of shampoo coming from her wet hair. - Good morning, daughter. - I don't want to go to school today. - Why? - I'm sick. - Where does it hurt? - I asked, putting my hand to her forehead, feeling her temperature. - All over her body. - Maybe I know what it is. - said Ivy, my sister, coming back from the kitchen with an apple in her hand. - Auntie, I'm sick. - Does this boo-boo start at the head and go all the way down to the feet? - Yes. - Sure. I have the diagnosis, it's called LAZINESS! Ivy ran after her to the car, the best sound was the laughter of my princess, a 5-year-old princess, very smart and who doesn't like going to school. - Thank you for taking her another day. - Miguel, my niece will never be a bother, but you need to hire someone, I won't be able to do this every day. - I know,
CEO's lover

CEO's lover

Romance
5.0
Kate "The elite was a puzzle that dominated New York, but Kate was the only piece that fit me." Dominic SYNOPSIS The New York Elite will show another piece of their game. Dominic was young and innocent when he was dragged into a dangerous web of conspiracy. Heir to a billionaire, he only wanted to be an American football player and a college playboy. When trying to help a beloved aunt, he had to make a promise to save the life of another innocent person. Katherine lived like a princess. She knew that her parents' marriage was not perfect, but she was happy with the life she had and especially with all the love she received from her mother. On an unexpected night, her life was turned upside down. Suffering at the hands of her father and with no alternatives, she learned to not be noticed and to observe the environment in order to survive. Unaware that there was someone doing everything to protect her, she had to hide her personality and the indomitable temper she inherited from her mother. Dominic learned to be the strongest and most lethal so that Katherine could assume her role: the heiress of a blood-borne kingdom. They were young and indomitable, and they found in each other the strength they needed, but the criminal life had a very high price. Would they be willing to pay and live forever trapped in a dangerous codename? LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR We are nearing the end of this series! There is only one book left: Sienna and Adam (Kyra and Alex will be released in the ebook and physical box set). When I started in 2020, without knowing what to expect from this adventure, I never imagined how much you would love to be part of this universe. This warms my heart that I have been able to provide, so far, with books that you even get together to discuss, make theories and create your own timelines. Thank you for all this affection. Without you, none of this would be possible. Speaking about the story, I like to tell you a few things so that you know what to expect from reading it. It is an intense and relatively quick romance, but you will understand how much they are linked to each other by destiny. One way or another, Dom and Kate would end up together. They are young and therefore, they dive into what they feel like every overwhelming first love that is impossible to control. I know that you will sigh for Dominic, you will root for Kate and, even more, you will jump like popcorn with the cute scenes that they will star in. Don't forget that although it is not a romance set in the mafia, here we have: organized crime, scenes of violence, swearing and it is quite distorted when it comes to right and wrong. This story is recommended for those over eighteen and may contain situations that cause triggers for those who do not like the theme. We are rooting for villains and that only applies to books, okay? If you meet a murderer, please run. I hope you like it! With love, Mari Cardoso Prologue | Dominic It was a river of blood. I had never seen more than a few drops in my life and at that moment, my hands were covered in the red liquid, sticky and slippery. My fingers trembled as I pressed the wound. She grabbed my arm, trying to speak and spitting more blood. Desperation consumed me inside. "Aren't you going to help? Call for help!" I shouted to the two men standing a few feet away from me. "She's dying!" She spat out more blood. "Kate..." My voice was weak. "Kate is fine, she's going to be fine." "Take care of her. My daughter..." Michelle continued to gurgle, trying to speak, and began to tremble even more under my hands. What had he done to her? "Why won't you help me?" I screamed, terrified. "Help me!" [1] Jack tilted his head to the side and left, his footsteps echoing [2] in the empty room. Enzo stopped beside me, touching my shoulder. "Why won't you help me?" I pleaded, regretful. "She has to die or the deal will be broken." Enzo crouched down and looked blankly at the woman who had watched me grow up. Michelle was an aunt I held dear to my heart. "Say goodbye
connection with CEO

connection with CEO

Romance
5.0
This man with an easy smile and a look full of lust is yours. I dedicate this book to all those who, at some point in their lives, have experienced the sweet taste of passion and the bitterness of disillusionment. May these words serve as inspiration, reminding us all that, despite adversity, we should never give up, because love is even sweeter and more peaceful when we find it on the path of life. May each page of this book be a reminder that true love is a treasure worth seeking and preserving. Synopsis Matteo Ferrara I am the kind of man who usually attracts gold diggers, and for a long time I maintained relationships based on financial agreements, paying and leaving. However, something in those piercing green eyes and Marina's sharp tongue bewitched me. Her body seemed to have been sculpted by the most talented of artists, and her smile had the power to leave me completely disarmed. However, I was surprised by an unexpected pregnancy, and I realized that Marina was just another one of those women who sought an easy life at the expense of others. I always discarded this type of woman as if she were a mere pawn in a game that I was tired of playing. Marina Bianchi I never imagined that love could find me, and worst of all, that I would be rejected while pregnant. The day I met Matteo, his eyes were full of lust and his charming words and captivating charm completely seduced me. Never in my life did I imagine that I would suffer such a profound humiliation. But what could I expect from a billionaire heir who gets involved with a simple girl, devoid of pompous surnames? Matteo introduced me to the sweet taste of passion and, cruelly, made me taste the bitter of disillusionment. I am leaving, taking with me the son he will never know. And if one day our paths cross again, he will never know of the existence of this child. I swear that one day everyone will know my name, I will despise Matteo in a way that he will never forget. Prologue Marina Bianchi I am anxiously waiting for Matteo, I called him to talk in a quieter place at the party, and with his usual cynical and malicious smile he said he would be there in a few minutes. While I wait, I find myself thinking, what the hell am I doing here, clutching a pregnancy test between my fingers, about to tell a man who has never proposed a serious relationship to me, that I am pregnant with his child. - It's the right thing to do, Marina, he needs to know, after all, you didn't make this baby alone - I say to myself, as I crawl along the wall trying to stick my back to it, so as not to run away from this whole situation. - Do you miss me? - I hear his deep voice behind me, I straighten my posture and with his usual cynical and mischievous smile he comes closer and places a hasty kiss on my lips. - Wait, Matteo. - I push him away and he looks at me confused. - What, are you going to play hard to get now? - he asks with his arms outstretched and a frown. - And are you going to play the asshole? Not that you aren't, but you could pretend to be right next to me. - Marina, did you seriously call me here to get back to the subject of your friend? I already told you what I think... "I'm pregnant with your child," I say without further ado, interrupting him. His expression changes completely, and I could swear he's about to have a heart attack. He laughs without a hint of humor, and I see his nervousness. "Mine?" he asks with disdain. "Let's settle this, Marina. I don't want to have children, and when I do, it won't be with someone like you." My eyes fill with tears and I struggle to believe his words. "What kind of man are you?" I scream, hitting his chest. He breathes heavily and looks to the sides as if hiding, he approaches me, pushing me against the wall, our faces so close that I can smell his breath, the same one that has calmed me down many times on a stormy night. "Don't give me that crap, you've always known the kind of man I am.
Intense love CEO

Intense love CEO

Romance
5.0
seemed appropriate to mark the official end of our youth by smoking this, which Anna confiscated from her sixteen-year-old brother yesterday. "I'm about to marry a man who creates robots that can learn how we think. Of course I'm going to say that smart guys are the best in bed. Well, Derek can solve a Rubik's Cube in under thirty seconds. The vagina is much less complicated." "That friend of his, Adam, is cute." But he spent the last hour telling me about an algorithm he's building for an AI robot named Lindsey. My input on the conversation was limited to "wow!" and "how interesting." Can you tell Derek he needs to find some dumber friends? Anna took a drag and spoke while trying to hold in her smoke, which made her voice rise two octaves. "He went to MIT and works at a tech company... It's going to be hard to find dumb friends." She nudged me with her shoulder. "That's why I need you to move here. I can't stand being around smart people all the time." "You're so cute," I sighed. "Adam's kind of cute, at least." "So I take it today's the day you're breaking this drought?" "Maybe tomorrow night, right after the wedding," I said with a smug smile. "If he's lucky. I'm still on New York time. I'll be falling asleep at the table by the time they serve dessert tonight." The bride-to-be and I were hiding from the rest of the pre-wedding dinner guests behind a vine-covered trellis arch in the restaurant's courtyard. Suddenly, a deep, husky voice startled me, and I nearly knocked the arch over. "If he gets lucky, huh? Are you as pretty from the front as you are from the back, or are you just conceited?" "What the-" I turned to the man walking toward us in the darkness. "Why don't you mind your own business?" The guy took a few more long strides and stepped into the spotlight that Anna and I had been trying to avoid. My eyes nearly bugged out. Tall, really tall-I'm five foot two and wearing five-inch heels, but I still had to crane my neck to look him in the face. Dark, sexy hair that looked like it needed a haircut, but still looked good on him. Tanned skin, a square, well-defined jaw, and a thin beard that must have grown in two hours, with all the testosterone he exuded. His eyes were a light blue that stood out against his dark face, and a few little wrinkles marked the skin around his eyes, which made me think he must smile often. And what a smile. It wasn't quite a full smile-more like a sly grin, like a cat that just swallowed a bird. The whole man thing was a bit too much to take in at once. But as I stood there, speechless, Anna hugged him. I hope she really knows him, I thought, and not that she's more stoned than I thought. "Hunter! You made it." Phew." "Of course you did. I wouldn't miss my buddy's wedding. Sorry I'm late. I was in Sacramento for work and had to rent a car and drive because my flight for this afternoon was canceled." The handsome intruder looked at me. He started at my feet and worked his way up slowly and in an incredibly rough, yet seductive way, sweeping my entire body. My nipples hardened as I watched those blue eyes the color of a misty sunset roam over me. When he finished, our gazes met. "Oh, yes, you are. Huh?" Noticing my confused expression, Hunter gave me a little help to understand.
Stay with me CEO

Stay with me CEO

Romance
5.0
picture it now, a house not so different from this one, its various rooms designed to house a large family: husband, wife and many children. I was supposed to have left the day after my hair dryers were dismantled. The plan was to spend a week setting up my new salon and furnishing the house. I wanted my new life to be in order before I saw him again. Not that I have grown fond of this place. I will not miss the few friends I have made, the people who do not know the woman I was before I came here, the men who over the years have thought they were in love with me. After I leave, I probably will not even remember the man who proposed to me. No one here knows that I am still married to you. I will only tell you a fragment of the story: I was barren and my husband took another wife. No one asked any more, so I have never told you about my children. I have wanted to leave ever since the three young men from the National Youth Service were killed. I decided to close my salon and jewelry store before I knew what I was going to do next, before the invitation to your father's funeral arrived like a map showing me the way. I memorized the names of the three young people and what each of them was studying at university. My Olamide would have been about their age; she would also be finishing university by now. When I read about them, I think of her. Akin, I often wonder if you think of her too. Even though sleep won't come, every night I close my eyes and fragments of the life I left behind come flooding back. I see the batik pillowcases in our bedroom, our neighbors and your family, which for an unwise time I thought was mine too. I see you. Tonight, I see the lamp you gave me a few weeks after we got married. I couldn't sleep in the dark, and you had nightmares if we left the fluorescent lights on. That lamp was your concession. You bought it without telling me you had found a solution, without asking me if I wanted a lamp. And as I stroked the bronze base and admired the glass panels that formed the dome, he asked me what I would take with me if our house were on fire. I didn't think twice before saying our baby, even though we didn't have children yet. You said what, not who. But you seemed a little hurt that, thinking it was a person, I hadn't considered saving him. I force myself out of bed and pull off my nightgown. I'm not wasting another minute. The questions I need answered, the ones I've stifled for over a decade, quicken my steps as I grab my bag and head into the living room. There are seventeen suitcases, ready to be loaded into the car. I look at them, remembering the contents of each one. If this house were on fire, what would I take? I have to think about that, because the first thing that comes to mind is nothing. I select the small suitcase I'd planned to take with me to the funeral and a leather bag filled with gold jewelry. Musa can carry the rest of the luggage for me another time. So that's it: fifteen years here, and although my house isn't on fire, all I'll take with me is a bag of gold and a change of clothes. The things that matter are inside me, locked in my chest like a tomb, where they will remain forever, my trunk of buried treasures. I leave the house. The air is chilly, and on the horizon the dark sky is turning a violet hue with the rising sun. Musa is leaning against the car, cleaning his teeth with a toothpick. He spits into a mug as I approach and puts the toothpick in his jacket pocket. He opens the car door, we shake hands, and I climb into the backseat. Musa turns on the radio and searches for a station. He chooses one where the day's broadcast is beginning with the national anthem. The doorman waves as we pull out of the condominium. The road stretches out before us, shrouded in a blanket of darkness that fades into the dawn as it leads me back to you.
Intimate with CEO

Intimate with CEO

Romance
5.0
reality. – What reality, father? – Daisy asked. – That you were not made for the British aristocracy. I obtained a low rate of return on my investment in your search for a husband. Do you know what that means, Daisy? – That I am a bad investment? – Daisy tried to guess. No one would guess that Daisy was a 22-year-old girl. Small, slender, and dark-haired, she still had the agility and exuberance of a child, while other women had already become sensible matrons. Sitting with her legs draped over the seat, she looked like a porcelain doll abandoned in the corner of the sofa. It irritated Bowman to see his daughter holding a book in her lap, one finger marking the page. She obviously couldn't wait for him to finish speaking so she could resume reading. "Put that down," he ordered. "Yes, Father." Surreptitiously, Daisy opened the book to see the page number and put it aside. The small gesture irritated Bowman. Books... The mere sight of a book had come to represent his daughter's shameful failure on the marriage market. Drawing on a large cigar, Bowman sat in an upholstered chair in the hotel suite they had occupied for more than two years. His wife, Mercedes, was perched in a high-backed wicker chair. Bowman was a large man, as intimidating in his physical size as in his manner. Although he was bald, he had a thick mustache, as if all the energy needed to grow hair had been channeled into his upper lip. At the time of their marriage, Mercedes had been extraordinarily thin. Over the years she had become even thinner, like a bar of soap being whittled down to a thin strip. Her straight black hair was always tied back. The sleeves of her dresses were tightly fitted to tiny cuffs that were so thin they could have been snapped like birch twigs. Even when she sat still, she exuded a nervous energy. Bowman had never regretted choosing Mercedes as his wife. Her iron ambition matched his perfectly. She was a tough, shrewd woman, always seeking a place for the Bowmans in high society. It was Mercedes who had insisted on taking her daughters to England.
Girl of the boss

Girl of the boss

Romance
5.0
wanted to do for this girl since the first moment I saw her. She looks up at me and smiles, then laughs and buries her face in the pillow. I lean toward her and kiss her neck. "What are you laughing at?" She lifts her head from the pillow, her cheeks a dark red. She shakes her head and laughs. "At us," she says. "It's only been twenty-four hours, and I've already lost count." I kiss her crimson cheek and laugh. "I can't count anymore, Lake. I've counted down too many times for one lifetime." I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her on top of me. When she leans in to kiss me, her hair falls between us. I reach over to the nightstand for the elastic, twisting her locks into a bun and pinning them up. "There," I say, pulling her face close to mine once more. "That's better. She made sure we had robes in our rooms, but we haven't used them once. Her ugly shirt has been on the floor since I threw it there last night. Needless to say, these have been the best 24 hours of my life." She kisses my jaw and brings her lips to my ear. "Are you hungry?" she whispers. "Not for food." She pulls back and smiles. "We still have 24 more hours here, you know? If you want to keep up with my pace, you better get your energy up. Besides, we ended up skipping lunch today, for some reason." She rolls away from me, reaches over to the nightstand and grabs the room service menu. "No burgers," I say. She rolls her eyes and laughs. "You'll never forget this." She glances at the menu, holds it up, and points to it. "How about beef Wellington? I've always wanted to try that." "Sounds good," I say, stepping closer to her. Layken picks up the phone to call room service. While she's on the phone, I kiss her back and forth, forcing her to stifle her laughter to keep her composure as she orders. When she hangs up the phone, she slides down from under me and pulls the covers over us. "You've got twenty minutes," she whispers. "Think you can handle it?" "I only need ten." The beef Wellington didn't disappoint. The only problem was that we were both too full and tired to move. We turn on the television for the first time since I carried Lake into the room, so I think it's safe to assume we'll have a break of at least two hours. Our legs are intertwined, and her head is on my chest. I'm running my fingers through her hair and stroking her wrist with my other hand. For some reason, these trivial things, like lying in bed watching TV, become kind of exciting when we're this tangled up. "Will?" She props herself up on her elbow and looks at me. "Can I ask you something?" She strokes my chest, then rests her hand on my heart. "I run twelve laps around the college track and do a hundred sit-ups twice a day," I say. She raises an eyebrow, so I point to my stomach. "Weren't you going to ask about my abs?" She laughs and playfully punches me. "No, I wasn't going to ask about your abs." She leans over and kisses my stomach. "But they are nice." I stroke her cheek and pull her back to look at me. "You can ask me anything, gorgeous." She sighs, lowers her elbow, and lays her head back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. "Do you feel guilty sometimes?" she asks softly. "That you're feeling so happy?" I move closer to her and rest my arm on her stomach. "Lake." Don't ever feel guilty. That's exactly what they would want for you." She looks at me and gives me a forced smile. "I know that's what they would want. But it's just... I don't know. If I could undo everything that happened to have them by my side again, I wouldn't think twice. But if I did that, I would never have met you. So I feel guilty sometimes because..." I press my fingers to her lips. "Shh," I say. "Don't think like that, Lake. Don't think about the what ifs." I lean in and kiss her forehead. "But if it helps at all, I understand what you're saying. It's just that there's no point in thinking about it. It's just the way it is." She takes my hand and intertwines our fingers, bringing them to her mouth and kissing the back of my hand.
Romance with CEO

Romance with CEO

Romance
5.0
stupid things, things I had no intention of doing. So I was very disturbed to discover that death could find me, too. According to my source, if I was "lucky," my death would happen the same way my grandfather did. Old. Smelling of pipe smoke and farts, with wads of tissue stuck to the stubble above his upper lip from blowing his nose. Black lines of dirt under his fingernails from gardening; eyes turning yellow at the corners, reminding me of the marble from my uncle's collection that my sister had a habit of sucking and swallowing, causing my father to come running over to throw his arms around her belly and squeeze her until she spat the marble back out. Old. Brown pants pulled up high on his waist, stopping just above his flabby, woman-like chest, revealing a soft paunch and testicles squeezed tight to one side of the crotch of his pants. Old. No, I didn't want to die like my grandfather had, but dying old, my source revealed, was the best alternative. I learned of my impending death from Kevin, my older cousin, on the day of Grandpa's funeral, as we sat on the grass at the bottom of his long yard with plastic cups of red lemonade in our hands and as far away as possible from our grieving parents, who looked more like dung beetles on what was the hottest day of the year. The grass was covered with dandelions and daisies and much longer than usual, since Grandpa's illness had prevented him from tending his garden in the last weeks of his life. I remember feeling sad for him, and wanting to defend him too, since, of all the days to show off his beautiful garden to his neighbors and friends, on this day the plants were not as perfect as he had always aspired. He wouldn't have minded not being there-he wasn't much of a talker-but he would have at least cared about the yard's appearance, and then disappeared to hear the praise from afar, away from everyone, perhaps upstairs through an open window. He would have pretended not to care, but he did care, a satisfied smile on his face to match his grass-stained knees and blackened fingernails. Someone, an old lady with a rosary of beads wound tightly around her knuckles, said she felt him in the garden, but I didn't. I was sure he wasn't there. He would have been so irritated by the way the garden looked that he couldn't have stood there. My grandmother would punctuate the silence with phrases like, "His sunflowers are in bloom, bless his soul," and "He couldn't even see the petunias bloom." To which my smart-ass cousin Kevin said, "Yeah, his body's turned into compost now." Everyone snickered; Everyone always laughed at the things Kevin said because Kevin was cool, because Kevin was the oldest, five years older than me, and at the ripe old age of ten, he would say cruel and mean things that no one else would dare say. Even if we didn't find it funny, we still had to laugh because if we didn't, he would quickly turn us into the object of his cruelty, and that's what he did to me that day. On that rare occasion, I didn't find it funny that Grandpa's dead body was underground and helping the petunias grow, nor did I find it cruel. I saw a certain beauty in it. And a lovely fullness and justice, too. It was exactly what my grandfather would have loved, now that his thick sausage-like fingers could no longer contribute to the blooming of his long, beautiful garden that was the center of his universe. It was my grandfather's love of gardening that inspired the choice of my name: Jasmine. This was what he brought to my mother in the hospital when I was born: a bouquet of flowers he had plucked from the wooden frame he had built himself and painted red that adorned the shadowy back wall, wrapped in newspaper and tied with brown string, the ink from the Irish Times crossword puzzle dripping with rainwater that had gotten on the stems. It wasn't the summer jasmine we all know from expensive scented candles and fancy room vaporizers; I had been born in winter, and so the little jasmine, with its small, yellow flowers like stars, was in abundance in his garden to help brighten the dull winter. I don't think my grandfather ever thought about the meaning of the flower, or whether he felt particularly honored by my mother's honor in naming me after the flower he had brought. I think it was a strange name for a child to give him, a name he had only ever invented for natural things in the garden, never for a person. With a name like Adalbert, after a saint who had been a missionary
My destiny with CEO

My destiny with CEO

Romance
5.0
chubby brown hand appeared, and Lalo yelled, "Your turn!" "Damn it, Chuy! Now look what you've done." She stepped out of the bushes. "Chuy! Naomi! Lunch is ready!" Welita's voice boomed from afar. "Ooh, what's for lunch?" Lalo asked as they all ran to the front of the house. "Mexican mole," Chuy said. "My favorite." "You say that about everything Welita cooks." Because it's true. "You better ask Welita if Lalo can have lunch with us," Naomi said breathlessly. "Welita, can Lalo have lunch with us?" Chuy asked as they reached the front porch. Welita paused on the bottom step, wiping her hands on her apron. "He eats lunch here every day." She peered through her rose-colored glasses at Lalo. "Isn't your mother expecting you?" "No, I told her I was here and that you're the best cook in Houston." Then she threw her slipper at me and started screaming. I think she's crazy. Naomi giggled at the sight of her mother's slipper flying through the air. She knew it was a harmless comment, but he should have known better than to insult a woman's cooking. "Ay, Dios mío." Welita pulled a kitchen rag from her apron pocket and wiped her forehead. "I'll have to talk to her this afternoon and make amends. Don't worry, Lalo. I'll make things right." "Thanks, Welita," he said as Chuy walked up the porch steps. "Naomi." Welita put a hand on his shoulder as she reached the top step. "Can you take the sheets off? I hung them up early this morning, they should be dry by now." But Chuy and Lalo will have eaten them all by the time I'm done. They've probably eaten half of them by now. "I promise your lunch will be there when you come in. It'll just take a minute." "Oh, okay." Naomi jumped off the porch and ran to the backyard where Welita was hanging the sheets to dry. She definitely knew what she was going to ask her parents for Christmas this year-a dryer for Welita. As she turned the corner, she heard Welita yelling. "Ay, stop eating so fast. Now I have to make more for me and Naomi." Naomi slowed down, there was no need to rush now. The white sheets flapped in the wind. She put her hand on one of them. It was dry. Standing on her tiptoes, she picked up the clothespins. She was about to fold it when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow moving behind the other sheet. "Ha, ha, Chuy. You can't scare me. I know you are..." Her jaw dropped as a woman floated toward her, the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Her dark hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, her skin like porcelain. She wore a delicate cream-colored dress with lace around the collar, which fluttered as she approached. Soft brown eyes stared down at her. As startled as Naomi was, the woman looked like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Then, the woman slowly reached out her hand. "Naomi," the woman breathed. "Huhhhh." "I'm sorry." The woman pulled her hand back. "I didn't mean to scare you." Naomi took a deep breath and lifted her chin. "I'm not scared." The woman clapped her hands together in excitement. "It's you, you're finally here. I've waited so long for you." Naomi looked around for Chuy and Lalo, they had obviously paid this woman to come here and scam her. Though she had no idea how they got the money. "Who are you? How do you know me?" "We've known each other for a long, long time. My name is Rebecca." Naomi frowned. "I don't remember you." "You wouldn't, but someday I hope you will." She looked around as if waiting for someone. "There's something I need to tell you." "Okay." "But I'm not sure if you'll believe me. You're still young, so maybe you will." "What is it?" She got down on her knees and looked into his eyes. "I'm an angel." Naomi looked at her skeptically. "You are?" She nodded. "I want to show you something, don't be afraid." Rebecca placed her hand on her forehead.