Leona Pierce was deeply obsessed with color black. Just like her soul, she lived in darkness. The stubborn little fire always had reasons to despise the world and unleash the hell, but when Tayson Huxley decided to splash his tints on her soul, she couldn't come up with an excuse to hate him. 
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Leona Pierce-heartless and detached artisan who lurked behind the colors and the ink carved on her skin. The messy soul who was fighting the demons of her mind stumbles upon Tayson Huxley.
  
Tayson Huxley-The man epitome of desire, arrogance, and pure sex. Both found themselves trapped in their own little bubble, knowing that it would fusillade with time. When the fire and storm cross paths, the fuse of hatred, stubbornness, little ego games, and undeniable chemistry leads to the explosion of something that none of them wants in their life.

Was this the game of resistance? Or the game of love? Will Leona win against the charmer, Tayson? Or will Tayson lose his heart to win her?

The Pretty Witch

The maroon Rolls Royce felicitously hustled inside the enormous celestial gates as the guards instantly spruced up at the sight of the person. 


A bulky and intimidating bodyguard unfastened the door to let the man dressed in an extravagant suit step out. 


The facsimile of colossal crystal shone on his polished black shoes as the old man grimly fixed his glasses and took powerful strides in his company. 


"Good Morning, Mr Pierce." The secretary addressed him when he trod into the elevator. 


"Morning. Is back Martin from Ulsan?" Lincoln; the father of Martin and chairperson of the largest international fashion designing company; Crystal Paradise. 


"Not yet, sir. But he said he would be back soon," the secretary replied as he shifted uncomfortably, wanting to say something but couldn't. When they reached the fifth floor, the man could not remain silent apprehensively spoke, "Sir, somebody is waiting for you." 


17| Crumbling heart