Raeven_Black

"What you gonna do? Force your way out?" He smirked.

My eyes widened due to his audacity.

"Y-you a$$hole!" I exclaimed in annoyance.

Why can't he understand the word no?

I saw how his demeanor got dark. His already chinky eyes narrowed into slits as he glared daggers at me. His stance grew predatory, and I blanched. He's being scary.

"I am what?" He whispered animosity is on his voice.

My tongue got tied as I tried to bite back a curt and failed. He was already walking towards me, but I held my place. I'm not going to show him he can intimidate me.

We were just mere centimeters apart now, and his scent invaded my personal space again.

"You are staying." He mumbled.

His fingers traced the contour of my collar bone before dipping at the hollow on my neck.

"And you know that we still have that deal, yeah?"

He moved his fingers up my neck and grabbed me by my nape before pulling me close to him. His face hunched closer to nuzzle my neck, and then he started pressing little kisses that made my eyes close. He is seducing me...

"We're going to seal that deal sooner or later, Lyubov moya. I hope you're ready." He rasped in my ear right before he bit down.
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Wynter McIver, Queen of the Boardroom. She was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, and she always gets what she wants. At 28, her mother pushes her to marry, but she never agreed nor even think about it.

She's in her prime life and being tied down is still out of her mind. She had boyfriends before, but none of them could coax her into marriage.

But when she met the ruggedly handsome and mysterious Keith Andrew Nagasaki, her thoughts in marriage fled out of the window. At last, she met her knight in an Armani suit, her other half, and she would do anything to have him. But when she discovered his deepest and darkest secret, she didn't know what to do. She was trapped in wanting the man and fearing him.

WARNING: R18

Credits to the artist

Psycho's Mine

Keith picked up instantly, already expecting it. Wynter, curled on the couch beside him with a blanket pulled up to her chin, didn't even flinch. She stared blankly ahead, hands unconsciously resting on the gentle curve of her stomach.

"Welp. I have very bad news to tell. She's not real," Einz said without preamble. His voice was tired—stripped of its usual cheek. "Elle Escalante's identity is fake."

The silence that followed was heavy—dense with implications neither of them wanted to voice.

Wynter's lips parted, her brows slowly drawing together. "What… what do you mean her identity's fake?"

Ghosts (3)