Billionaire's Seduction

h me, he's always been kind. I wish I could be more like him, stronger perhaps, but I'm more like our mother. She was quiet, sweet (sweeter than me!), and saw the be

special place he knew, nestled in the Swiss Alps. For five months, I allowed myself to grieve, feel, and slowly rebuild myself with the help of professionals. Fresh air, a change of scenery, great therapists-all of it helped. I knew I was lucky to be getting treatment-so many people struggling with major depression don't have the same resources. I decided to add a branch to our Foundation for just that-helping people who are deeply depressed without resources-in the comi

elt in years. I love French painters and I lingered over these paintings, absorbing them into my soul. Sure, I had to see the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo, like everyone else. But I've always been a fan of Egyptian art, and the Louvre has one of the largest collections outside of Egypt. I was absolutely mesmerized and lost in every piece, every story, every manuscript, every sculpture, every intriguing face. After the tour, I decided to grab an espresso at a nearby outdoor café along the Seine to reenergize myself and let the overwhelming experience sink in. As I sat sipping a strong cup

n the middle of a vast natural space, and the clear sounds of the guitar strings and his voice. It was a love song, and I still remember the words to this day. The last line echoes in my head now, and I remember the expression on Eric's face as he sang, and the unreadable look on Nick's face as he sat next to him: Under the vast canyon sky, our hearts soar, Hand in hand, we chase the sun into the night. With every star above, our love will always grow, Together forever, that's what I know. The boys teased him, but they were impressed, I remember thinking as I looked at their faces that day. I loved the mus

irs scraped against the concrete, some toppling over, as people stood up to get a better view of the action unfolding on the sidewalk. Some were taking photos or videos. After a brief struggle, my rescuer snatched the bag from the thief's hands. The pickpocket scrambled to his feet and ran away, disappearing around a corner. Breathing heavily, the man who had come to my rescue straightened. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and turned to face me. Our eyes met, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. He was strikingly handsome, with chiseled features and piercing dark eyes that crinkled slightly at the corners as he gave me a crooked smile. He walked over to my ta