Miss_Behaviour

Twenty-eight year old Delilah Sterling, has perfected the art of being a respectable realtor by day, and a professional gold digger by night. 
Delilah believes she has her double life under control. Her meticulously crafted life crumbles when she wakes up one morning with a wedding band on her finger, a marriage certificate on the table, and a sinfully gorgeous man claiming to be her husband. 
To make matters worse, he is broke and jobless, making her feel trapped in a surreal nightmare.
Desperate for escape, Delilah demands a divorce, but the stranger—insisting he wants to stay married—thwarts every attempt. 
Frustration and confusion mount until Delilah hatches a new plan: she proposes they team up to con her next target, the elusive billionaire, Hunter Quinn. 
What Delilah doesn't realize is that her "broke husband" is actually Hunter Quinn himself. 

Billionaire CEO, Hunter Quinn, 
having discovered Delilah’s intentions to con him, had decided to outplay her at her own game.

Hunter agrees to the partnership, and together they plunge into a high-stakes game of deceit. As they plot and scheme, the lines between pretense and reality blur. 

Their forced proximity ignites an unexpected chemistry, leading to moments of vulnerability and genuine connection neither anticipated. 

Caught in a whirlwind of deception, passion, and power plays, Delilah grapples with their growing feelings. As their con deepens, she must confront the ultimate question: Can she open her heart to love and trust again?

****Exerpt****

Delilah’s eyes darted to the marriage certificate again, the official seal glaring back at her. Her fingers itched to tear it apart, to make this nightmare disappear. But deep down, she knew that wouldn’t change anything.

“I don’t remember,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “I don’t remember any of it.” 

Blake nodded as if he had expected this reaction. “That is expected. You had a lot to drink last night.” he fished out a phone from the back pocket of his trousers, opened it.

“Here, this is us celebrating, after we got married last night,” he said, showing her a picture.


Delilah’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the photo. It was indeed her.



“How?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t remember any of this.”

“It was a wild night,” he said softly.

Perhaps she had married Blake because he was wealthy. That would be the only logical reason for her to make such a blunder. 

There was hope, she thought, as she clung to the possibility of salvaging something from this disaster.


Turning to him, she forced a smile, “Is this your house? Are we in your house?” She asked, looking around the bedroom.


Blake shook his head, “No. This is a hotel,” he said, and she nodded.


“I see. It looks like quite an expensive hotel,” she observed, “What do you do for a living?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she searched his eyes for any hint of affluence.


Blake hesitated, his confident demeanor faltering for the first time. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m... in between jobs,” he stuttered, avoiding her gaze.

Delilah’s heart sank, disappointment crashing over her like a wave. “In between jobs?” she echoed, her voice tinged with disbelief. 

Blake seemed to sense her dismay. “I know it doesn’t sound great,” he said quickly, trying to reassure her. “But I’m working on a few things. I just need a little more time.”

“You’re jobless,” she muttered to herself as reality sunk in.

“How did you pay for this room? For the wedding bands?” She asked, and he winced. 


“I didn’t. You did,” he said, and she collapsed on the bed.

(PS: Cover photo isn’t mine. Credit to the real owner)

Unexpected Romance: Love $ Hustle

The air in Delilah's kitchen carried the comforting aroma of garlic and thyme, mingling with the faint sweetness of roasting tomatoes.

The kitchen was warm and filled with the soft clatter of utensils and chopping sound as Delilah stood by the counter, chopping onions. Across the room, Jessica leaned over the counter, expertly slicing a loaf of fresh bread while their father sat by the Island, with an amused smile as he watched his daughters work.

"I think that's enough onions, D," Jessica said, glancing over her shoulder. "Unless you're trying to make us all cry."

Delilah smirked, setting the knife down. "Just making sure we have enough flavor. Besides, isn't that your specialty— tears?" She asked as she went to check the soup on the stove and add the onion to it.

Jessica rolled her eyes but smiled. "Only when I have to deal with you."

Dinner