Awhare_kevwe

Power. Control. Discipline.

Peter Alexander built his empire on these principles, becoming the second wealthiest man in the world. Cold, ruthless, and dangerously untouchable, he has no patience for weakness—especially not the kind that comes from desire.

Then she walks into his life.

Naarah, a breathtaking beauty with an innocent heart, unknowingly steps into Peter’s world when she interrupts a high-stakes business meeting, challenging him in front of his board. Bold, unaware of the dangers surrounding her, she defies him without hesitation. And for the first time in years, Peter feels something stir—something dangerous, something forbidden.

But he’s not the only one who notices her.

His greatest rival, the world’s richest and most merciless man, sets his sights on Naarah, mistaking lust for love and believing she belongs to him. Deception, manipulation, and a deadly obsession pull her deeper into a world she doesn’t understand. And when she begins to mistake her confusion for feelings toward the wrong man, the stakes rise even higher.

Peter watches, his patience wearing thin, his control slipping. She should fear him—he’s a man who takes what he wants. Yet, she challenges him at every turn, awakening a hunger he can no longer ignore.

But when his rival crosses the line, threatening to steal everything, Peter will stop at nothing to protect the woman he can no longer deny belongs to him.

In a battle of power, passion, and possession, can Naarah resist the dark allure of the billionaire who wants to claim her? And when desire turns to something deeper, will Peter allow himself to surrender to the only thing he’s ever feared—love?

Taming the Billionaire’s Desire

Naarah's pulse roared in her ears.

Peter stood at the doorway, one hand casually tucked into his pocket, his sharp gaze locked on her like a predator who had finally cornered its prey.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Working hard, sweetheart?" he drawled, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. The sound of the latch clicking sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

Naarah straightened in her chair, determined to look unaffected. "What do you want, Peter?"

He hummed, stepping closer. "You, actually."

"That's not funny," she muttered, focusing on her computer screen, pretending she wasn't hyper-aware of his every movement.

"I wasn't joking," Peter murmured.

Her fingers tightened around her pen. "You're in my office. Why?"

Peter didn't answer immediately. Instead, he strolled around her desk, his presence a slow, creeping force that disrupted the air around her.

One hand braced on her desk, the other resting lightly on the back of her chair, caging her in without touching her.

She could feel the heat of him, the nearness of him.

"That you've been thinking about me."

Naarah clenched her jaw, refusing to look at him. "I haven't."

She whipped her head toward him, ready to snap back—only to find his face inches from hers, his dark eyes glittering with something dangerous.

Peter's gaze flickered to her lips.

She refused to be the one to break.

Then, deliberately, Peter lifted a hand—

And tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

It was barely a touch. But it burned.

Peter smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "Still haven't thought about the kiss?"

Naarah jerked back, shoving her chair away. "It was just a kiss, Peter. I've moved on."

She regretted the words the second they left her mouth.

Peter's expression darkened—his smirk fading, replaced by something far more intense.

He straightened, adjusting his cuffs, his movements controlled, calculated.

"If that's true," he murmured, "then you won't mind if I do it again."

Peter took a step forward, erasing the space between them.

Her back hit the bookshelf. No more room to run.

Peter leaned in, one arm braced beside her head.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured, his lips mere inches from hers.

Peter's fingers ghosted over her arm, slow, deliberate. "Tell me you don't want this."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "Peter…"

Her silence was all the answer he needed.

Peter let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through her.

Then, slowly—agonizingly slowly—he leaned in and brushed his lips against her ear.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, "you're playing a very dangerous game."

And just like that, the moment shattered.

Naarah blinked, dazed, as Peter casually stepped back, adjusting his suit as if nothing had happened.

And infuriatingly aware of just how right he was.

CHAPTER 14