The Layers Of Love

The Layers Of Love

Hibiscus

5.0
Comment(s)
View
20
Chapters

At Honeywell Bakes, the ovens are hot, the love triangle is hotter-and someone's been messing with the recipes. Lianna just wanted a fresh start at the town's coziest bakery, but between a flirty coworker, a charming customer, and a sabotaged tart, she's about to discover that falling in love is messier than flour on a Monday morning. With secrets rising, vlogs going viral, and a mysterious ex-employee stirring the batter, Lianna must uncover the truth before her heart-and the bakery-completely crumbles.

Chapter 1 Strangers and sprinkles

Lianna had just finished decorating her forty-eighth strawberry swirl cupcake when the man in the expensive coat walked in-not to order, but to inspect.

She knew it the moment she saw him.

He wasn't here for the lemon tarts or the cream puffs. His eyes didn't light up at the scent of freshly baked cinnamon rolls curling through the air, and he certainly didn't belong to the soft crowd of regulars who melted into the cozy pastel warmth of Honey

Well Bakes, the city's most beloved bakery. No, he was too stiff, too sharp. Like he had walked straight out of a business meeting and into her frosting-covered universe by mistake.

Lianna blinked, her piping bag mid-squeeze.

The man-tall, dark-haired, sharply dressed in a grey coat and polished shoes-swept his gaze across the glass display like it had personally offended him.

"Excuse me?" she called out, forcing a cheerful smile as she wiped her hands on her apron. "Can I help you with something?"

He glanced up, his eyes-stormy grey, unreadable-landing on her.

"You're Lianna Carter?" he asked, voice low and controlled.

"Um... yes," she replied cautiously. "And you are?"

He pulled something from his pocket-a sleek black wallet with a logo she didn't recognize. He flipped it open.

Adrian Cole. Culinary Consultant.

Specializing in business restructuring, performance auditing, and brand strategy.

Her stomach dipped. The bakery's owner, Miss Gracie, hadn't mentioned anything about consultants. And Adrian didn't look like someone who came to "strategize." He looked like someone who came to shut things down.

"Miss Gracie hired me," he said, tucking the ID back into his coat. "I'm here to assess operations and suggest improvements."

Lianna blinked again.

"Assess?" she echoed. "We bake. We sell. What's there to assess?"

His mouth quirked. Not quite a smile. Not quite friendly.

"Exactly."

---

By the time lunchtime came around, Lianna had decided she did not like Adrian Cole.

He had spent the entire morning asking strange questions, taking notes, and walking around with that same unreadable expression. He'd studied her cakes like he was looking for evidence of a crime, and he'd told Rosie-the sugar cookie queen-that her frosting swirls lacked "uniformity."

Uniformity? These were cookies, not military cadets.

And then there was the comment.

"You could simplify your cupcake menu," he had said, glancing over her carefully curated flavor list. "Fewer options. Less waste. More clarity for the customer."

Lianna had stared at him like he'd just suggested they replace chocolate with broccoli.

"These are our bestsellers," she had replied, trying to stay calm. "Customers love the variety."

"Maybe," he said. "But from a business perspective, it's excessive."

Now, she stood behind the counter, arms crossed, watching him tap something into his tablet as if it were a bomb he was defusing.

She didn't like him.

He was stiff. Arrogant. Cold. Probably didn't even eat dessert.

But then...

She caught him glancing at the cupcake she'd placed on the tray by the register. A strawberry swirl. The very same one she'd been decorating when he walked in.

His eyes lingered for a moment longer than necessary.

Lianna smirked. Caught you.

"You want one?" she asked sweetly, pointing to it. "It's on the house. For our... consultant."

He looked at her, surprised. Hesitated.

Then, with a stiff nod, he reached for it. "Thanks."

He took a bite.

And for just a second-just one-his expression shifted. His eyes softened. His brows lifted. His mouth opened, like he was about to say something.

But then he blinked it away.

"It's fine," he said flatly, setting the cupcake down.

It's fine?

Lianna narrowed her eyes. Oh, it was on.

---

The bell above the door jingled, and in walked Theo Grant-arms full of flower boxes and a lopsided grin on his face.

"Delivery for Honeywell Bakes," he called. "And possibly a free smile for the girl who made me those banana muffins last week."

Lianna's heart lifted.

Theo, her oldest friend, her constant cheerleader, her dependable golden retriever in human form. He didn't own a suit. He didn't take notes. He didn't insult cupcakes.

"Hi, Theo," she said, brushing past Adrian with an exaggerated smile. "You're just in time. I need help in the back."

Theo beamed. "Anything for you, sugarplum."

Adrian raised an eyebrow.

Lianna didn't care.

Two could play this game.

---

In the back room, Theo handed her the boxes and leaned against the wall, watching her carefully.

"Everything okay?" he asked. "You looked like you wanted to throw something at that guy."

"I still might," she muttered. "His name's Adrian. He's here to... 'assess operations.' Whatever that means."

Theo tilted his head. "He doesn't look like he eats muffins. Or talks to people."

Lianna laughed. "Exactly."

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, until Theo cleared his throat.

"Hey, uh... Lianna?"

She glanced up.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I was wondering if you wanted to maybe go to that dessert expo next weekend? With me?"

She blinked. "Oh. Like... together?"

His cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink. "Yeah. Like together-together."

She opened her mouth to respond-

-and just then, Adrian's voice rang out from the front.

"Lianna, could I have a word?"

She groaned. "Saved by the sourpuss."

Theo smiled softly. "Rain check?"

She nodded. "Rain check."

Continue Reading

You'll also like

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Huo Wuer
5.0

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge

Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge

Xiao Hong Mao
5.0

I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband’s aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason’s coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go. The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason’s mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside. The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal. I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate. But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone. "Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands." The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I’m starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak.

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Jessica C. Dolan
4.9

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.

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

Viviene
4.9

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book