Isla Fox

Three years ago, Hazel Vance made a choice that changed everything. One night of passion with a mysterious stranger at a masquerade ball left her with more than just memories—it left her with a son whose rare violet-blue eyes are a constant reminder of the father she'll never find.

Now a struggling single mother, Hazel desperately needs the executive assistant position at Sterling Group. The salary could finally give her two-year-old Leo the life he deserves. But her new boss, CEO Liam Sterling, is nothing like she expected.

Demanding, brilliant, and devastatingly handsome, Liam has a reputation for being impossible to work for. Most assistants don't last a week. When Hazel refuses to be intimidated by his cold demeanor and sharp tongue, something shifts between them. The attraction is immediate and electric, crackling through every professional interaction.

But it's his eyes that stop her cold. The same striking violet-blue shade that stares back at her every morning when she looks at her son.

As the tension between them builds and the lines between professional and personal begin to blur, Hazel finds herself caught between her desperate need for this job and her growing attraction to the one man who could destroy everything she's worked for.

She doesn't know that Liam has been searching for the mysterious woman from the masquerade ball ever since that night changed him forever. And he has no idea that the composed, fiery assistant who challenges him at every turn is the same woman who haunts his dreams.

When the truth finally comes to light, will it bring them together or tear apart the fragile new life Hazel has built for herself and her son?

The CEO’s Masked Secret Wife

The morning sun sliced through the blinds like a knife, each beam of light a personal assault on my throbbing head. I groaned and buried my face deeper into the pillow.


Damian's voice boomed in my ears, making me wince. He yanked the curtains open fully, flooding the room with merciless brightness.


"I hate you," I muttered, pulling the covers over my head.


"No, you hate yourself right now. There's a difference." He set a glass of water and two pills on the nightstand. "Take these. You look like death warmed over."


I reluctantly emerged from my cocoon and swallowed the pills. My mouth tasted like something had crawled in and died. Last night at McGinty's had been a mistake. After Hazel's rejection, I'd drowned my sorrows in whiskey until Damian practically carried me home.


"What time is it?" I asked, squinting at the clock.


"Nearly noon. You've missed half the day already."


A Bitter Taste of Regret and Rivalry