WARNING:

The female lead is not a weak, spineless doormat. She’s bold, funny, slightly fearless and witty as hell.

Her husband is an absolute fool and her ex-fiancé is a full fledged red flag who is completely obsessed with her.

Thanks for reading!!

***

At the age of 18, Amani’s fiancé looked her in the eyes and called her “the trash.” On top of that, he proceeded to call off their engagement because he found a more beautiful and glamorous woman.

Heartbroken and shattered, she gets married to Henry Wilson a few years later and he turns out to be an abuser and a cheat.

Their son is diagnosed with stage four cancer and while he breathes his last on his deathbed, Henry is busy frolicking around town with his new secretary.

Angry beyond measure, she files for divorce.

Amani’s plan after divorce is to remain totally man-free for the rest of her life, but that plan turns to dust when the man who shattered her heart at 18 storms back into her life like a violent earthquake.

Bhyron Macaulay is his name – New York’s most enigmatic billionaire bachelor, gorgeous as a demon and every woman’s dream man.

One thing about him? He hates debtors. And Amani’s late parents owe him the sum of twenty million dollars.

Bhyron has only one plan — to make sure Amani becomes his wife whether by consent or by force, and he plans to use that debt as leverage.

When dark, haunting secrets about their pasts start to fly and Amani begins to feel a burning attraction for a man she once swore she hates, who will fall first? The heartless billionaire or the woman he once abandoned…?

001 — AN ABSENTEE FATHER

“Mommy, where’s daddy? He promised he’ll be here for my birthday. Is he working again?”

I swallow the painful lump in my throat and turn to my three-year old son.

The hospital air is already depressing enough, but watching my frail son tethered to so many wires threatens to break the dam that holds my tears.

“Your father will be here soon, sweetheart. He promised us, didn’t he? I’m sure he’s on his way right now.”

I say those words without any iota of hope whatsoever. It’s already eleven PM and I’ve been calling my husband since sunrise with no response.

“It’s almost midnight.” Dave argues weakly. “Is he spending time with Miss Laura and her daughters again? But he promised to stay with me throughout today.”

His eyes fill with tears and my heart tightens painfully.

No longer able to bear his sad face, I plaster a fake smile on mine, get to my feet and wipe his cheeks.

“You know what? I’m sure daddy is waiting outside right now. I’ll go out there and bring him in, okay?”

He brightens up immediately. “Really? Okay, mommy.”

With one last glance at the sad birthday decorations and the already melting ice cream cake, I walk out of the room.

Deep down, I know Henry isn’t waiting outside, but a part of me still hopes he wouldn’t disappoint us today.

That part of me dies when I see the empty hallway.

There’s still no sign of him.

My hopelessness slowly gives way to anger as I trudge to the entrance. This nonsense has to stop. Today.

“Hey, Jared. Have you heard from your boss lately?” I ask his chief bodyguard.

“Yes, Mrs Wilson. I was just about to call you. I’m afraid the boss will not be able to make it on time today. He was already on his way but Miss Laura called him with news that one of her daughters fell and broke her arm. He had to turn around and help her take the little girl to the hospital.

He says he’s sorry…”

Miss Laura again. His secretary. I just recently found out that my husband and this “Miss Laura” were high school sweethearts that got separated when she moved to England.

She returned two years ago with twin daughters and a dead husband… and my marriage has not been the same ever since.

Raw, venomous rage shoots through my bloodstream.

“Stop. Just stop!” I screech, my fingers already balling into fists.

“Did you tell your boss that his son who has terminal cancer has been waiting for him since this morning because he wants to hear his daddy sing ‘happy birthday’ to him?” I ask angrily.

“Does he even remember that he has a wife and child?”

The bodyguard lowers his head.

“I’m really sorry, ma’am. I believe…”

Before he can complete his sentence, I hear sounds of a commotion behind me and turn to see a group of nurses frantically running down the hallway.

For a moment, I freeze. My heart turns to ice.

I finally snap out of my daze when one of the nurses says to her colleague;

“We have an emergency. The little boy in room 204 just suffered a cardiac arrest. I heard it might be fatal…”

That’s the last thing I register before I take off running towards my son’s room, my heart in my mouth.

God, not today. Please…

My Dave is the little boy in room 204. If anything happens to my child, I might end up killing myself.

By the time I arrive at the room, a nurse is already closing the doors.

“Hold on! Please, wait!” I scream, frantic with worry. “ I need to see my son. How’s he doing? Please…”

The nurse shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, ma’am but the doctor is attending to him right now. You’re not allowed to come in. Please, wait outside.”

She closes the door in my face and all the tears I was struggling to hold back stream down my cheeks in torrents.

After pacing the hallway for nearly thirty minutes, I whip out my phone and dial my husband’s number.

I don’t care if he’s been a horrible husband and father these past few days. All I need right now is his support.

He answers on the first ring and my shoulders sag in relief.

My relief is however short lived when a woman’s voice comes over the speakers.

“Hello, Henry? I…”

“I’m sorry but Henry is busy right now. This is Laura.”

I pause, not sure I’ve heard right.

“L-Laura?” I stutter. “Where’s Henry? I need to speak with him urgently.”

“This is Amani, right? Your husband is getting my daughter’s prescription from the doctor at the moment.” She replies haughtily. “But if you’d like to leave a message…”

Upon hearing that statement, my heart runs cold. Every single bit of hope that I once harboured for my marriage drains away, leaving me completely empty.

I end the call without a second thought and pace the hallway by myself, praying and crying while my son battles for his life.

Exactly three hours later, the door opens and a doctor walks out.

My pulse drums crazily as I run to him;

“Doctor, how’s my son? Is he okay? Please tell me he’s okay.”

When the doctor says nothing for the first two seconds, I lean back and finally notice his downcast eyes.

He doesn’t have to say a single word. The shattering of my heart already tells me all I need to know.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Wilson. I tried my absolute best but the cardiac arrest was too sudden and couldn’t be controlled. Unfortunately, we lost him. Your son is dead.”

002 — HIS UTTER AUDACITY

I’m shaking. I can’t breathe. I can’t even speak.

The birthday decorations are still hanging from the ceiling and the cake that Dave refused to eat without his daddy still lies there, untouched.

All that doesn’t faze me, but the moment I see my little boy covered from head to toe in a white cloth, a horrible, painful pang shoots through my chest.

I’m shaking like a leaf as I lift the sheets and look at his frail face and closed eyes. Eyes that will now be closed forever.

“N-no.” I whisper, tears falling in torrents down my face.

“God, please no. Take me instead. Please take me and bring back my little boy. Please…”

I lay my head on his chest, hoping to hear a heartbeat. Nothing. Dave is not breathing anymore. He’s really gone.

My baby was diagnosed with brain cancer at just two years old. So far, we’d tried our best to give him the best medical care possible but three months ago, the doctor informed us that he only had six months to live.

I run my shaky fingers over his closed eyes, my tears falling harder.

“The doctor said we still had six months together, sweetheart. Why did you leave me so soon? Open your eyes for mommy. Please, open your eyes.”

I lay my head on his chest and remain there for what seems like hours. My phone rings over and over again but I’m too consumed with grief to see who it is.

A while later, the door slams open and I hear sounds of footsteps.

I look up warily and pause when I see him. Henry Wilson. My husband.

He hurries towards me, his eyes already looking panicked as they dart from me to our dead son.

“Amani, honey, what happened? The guard just called me…”

It only takes one second for all my rage to bubble to the surface.

He stretches his hand to touch Dave and I slap it away. His wince of surprise gives me immense satisfaction.

“Don’t you dare touch my son, you bastard. Don’t touch him!”

For a moment, Henry just stares at me, his eyes wide with shock.

In the three years of our marriage and even while we were dating, I have never, ever raised my voice at him.

I’ve always been the humble, docile wife who believed my husband deserved all the respect in the world no matter how horribly he treated me.

Not. Any. More. That docile wife is gone and an angry, heart broken mother has taken her place.

“Watch your tone when you speak to me, Amani. I’m still your husband and David’s father.” He says authoritatively.

I take a bold step towards him, my eyes flashing with rage.

“You should receive an award for your audacity, Henry. Now you remember that you’re a husband and father?” I ask bitterly.

“Why didn’t you remember your fatherly duties all those nights when Dave needed you but you choose to spend time with your secretary? Why didn’t you remember your duties on your own son’s birthday? Shame on you!!” I screech.

“David was up since the crack of dawn, filled with hope that his daddy would spare a few minutes of his day and pay him a visit to wish him ‘happy birthday.’

I had to sit there and watch the hope slowly die in his eyes. I had to see his disappointment when he realised you were not going to show up as always!”

I wipe at the angry tears that roll down my cheeks.

“You are more of a father to Laura’s children than you’ve ever been to your own son, Henry. You never miss their birthdays or Doctor’s appointments. You even make out time to attend their school events while your own son laid on his hospital bed, fighting for his life!

What wrong did we ever do to you? Why did you hate us so much?”

I sense movements at the door and look up to find a beautiful blonde woman standing there with two pretty little girls by her side.

My eyes narrow with annoyance. It’s Laura and her twins.

The moment I realise who they are, my blood boils even hotter. I turn to my husband;

“What are they doing here? Why are they here?!”

His eyes are filled with remorse as he sneaks a quick glance at Laura.

Suddenly, it dawns on me.

“Did you bring them here?” I ask, my voice dripping with rage.

He stretches his hand towards me diplomatically but I step backwards before he can touch me.

“Look, Amani, you need to calm down. Laura’s children only wanted to wish David a happy birthday so I decided to bring them here from the doctor’s appointment.”

I press my fingers against my eyes, trying to keep my anger at bay.

“Are you bloody listening to yourself? What time did you get here?”

He lowers his head.

“Thirty minutes past midnight.”

I scoff. “So technically, you already missed David’s birthday because you were out there taking care of another woman’s children as usual.”

I turn to Laura.

“Are you happy now?” I ask bitterly. “He’s finally dead. My son is dead just like you wanted. Now you can have this bloody cheater all to yourself.”

She rushes into the room, her eyes filled with fake sadness, and wraps her hands around my husband’s arm.

I notice how he doesn’t push her away. I notice everything.

“Henry, did you hear her?” She whines. “I never wanted any of this to happen. How can she blame me for David’s death when I even convinced you to come here in the first place?”

Henry turns to me.

“She’s right. Don’t blame Laura for any of this. Blame me if you must but leave her and her children out of it.”

I nod.

My throat feels way too tight. I might burst if I keep entertaining this madness.

“You know what? I’m way too exhausted from pulling all nighters taking care of my son to argue with any of you right now. Leave. All of you.”

Henry takes a step towards me.

“You can’t send me away. I’m still your husband and…”

I turn towards him so fast, I become lightheaded.

“What were you going to say? That you’re still David’s father? Well, he’s dead now and you’re free to be with the family you really want.

Don’t worry about me. I promise I’ll no longer make myself your responsibility. I’m filing for divorce first thing tomorrow morning.``

For a moment, tense, choking silence reigns in the room. Then Henry steps forward and grabs my arm so tightly, I wince.

“Think very carefully before you do anything, Amani. I might forgive you this once because as a good person, I understand that you’re grieving. But I might not forgive you the next time you say something like this.

Don’t make the wrong decision because of one small mistake.”

I snatch my hand away and give him a look filled with hatred.

“Did you say a ‘small mistake?’ My son is dead and you’re calling that a small mistake? What the hell is wrong with you, Henry? Where’s the man I married?”

Henry and I met at college when I was just recovering from a grueling heartbreak and I fell head-over- heels for his good looks and charm. I ignored all the warnings from my aunt and best friend and we got married a year later.

Three months into our marriage, he changed from the kind, loving man I used to know to a distant, short-tempered human being. All because of Laura, his secretary.

I take a deep breath, walk towards the door and hold it open.

“You know what? Don’t answer that. I couldn’t care less. The divorce papers will be sent to your office tomorrow morning. Now, leave.”

His lips twist with annoyance.

“You will never find another man that will tolerate you the way I do. I promise you. No one will ever want to be with a bitter Betty like you.”

I swallow the painful lump in my throat.

“If mourning my son and leaving a horrible marriage makes me a bitter Betty, then God bless all the bitter Bettys like me around the world. May we live till a ripe old age.

Sign the divorce papers, Henry. It’s over…”

003 — MR WILSON, THE CHEATING BASTARD!

It’s been three days since my son died. Three days of keeping myself holed up in my new apartment and crying myself to sleep every night. Three days of darkness and gloom.

I wake up frowning because the rising sun currently peeks through the sheer white curtains, bathing the room in brightness when all I want is to keep wallowing in darkness and grief.

It suddenly hits me that I’ve not received any response from Henry ever since I served him our divorce papers more than forty eight hours ago.

I pick up my cell phone and scroll through the endless list of missed calls. There’s none from my soon-to-be ex-husband. Henry never called me even once.

Suddenly driven by anger and frustration, I dial his private number and wait impatiently for him to respond.

I end the call when I get no response twenty seconds later and get to my feet.

Henry still thinks I was playing around when I asked for a divorce. I’ll pay him a visit today and illustrate just how serious I am about leaving his deadbeat ass.

***

An hour and thirty minutes later, I walk into the building that houses Wilson Construction. It took that long because I had a mini meltdown after spotting David’s picture on my dresser.

I won’t exactly say I’m dressed to kill, but my short black dress, black heeled sandals and dark sunglasses make me look sophisticated and also point out that I’m still grieving my child.

I arrive at the receptionist’s desk and her eyes brighten with recognition when I take off my glasses.

“Mrs. Wilson.” She greets and I physically cringe. Not for long.

“Hello, Maddie.”

“The boss did not inform us that you’d be coming.”

“That’s because he’s not aware of my presence. Is he in the office?”

She nods. “Sure. You can go right up.”

I smile my thanks and get into the elevator. Within seconds, I arrive at Laura’s desk. I’m disappointed to find it empty. I would’ve loved to give that bitch a piece of my mind.

I pause outside the door to my husband’s office and take a huge, shaky breath. I might come off as strong and uncaring but deep down, I’m broken.

When I got married to Henry two years ago, I was so in love that I never imagined a day would come when we would separate on such messy terms.

I was so stupid, and now I have to pay the price. My son is gone, my marriage is gone and all that’s left is this hollow emptiness in my chest that only gets wider by the second.

I shake my head and push the door open without wasting any more time.

When I step into the huge, luxuriously furnished office, it’s empty.

“I thought the receptionist said he was here.” I whisper to myself.

I’m about to turn around and leave when a strange sound reaches my ears.

My heartbeat accelerates and I turn sharply to my left, towards the direction of the sound.

Two seconds later, I hear it again. It almost sounds like… a strangled moan. A woman’s moan.

Wait. Could it be…?

I don’t know what demon possesses me, but instead of leaving like I’m supposed to, I follow the sound and discover that it’s coming through a half open door on the far end of the office. And I was right. It’s a woman’s moan.

“Ungh! Faster, Henry. Please…!”

I freeze. That was Laura’s voice. I’d recognize it even in my dreams.

It suddenly dawns on me that I was right all along. That bastard has really been cheating on me with Laura.

Even though my mind is already prepared for what I’m about to see, my heart still twists painfully when I push the door open and I’m bombarded with the sight of Laura bouncing atop Henry, her eyes shut and her head thrown back in ecstasy.

They’re both naked as the day they were born. And they both seem to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

I turn to leave quietly but at the last second, I unconsciously push the door and its low creak pierces the air like a bloody trumpet.

I freeze, but it’s already too late.

I’m startled from my daze by Henry’s panic-filled voice;

“Fuck, Amani! What the hell are you doing here?”

I turn around and run towards the entrance as fast as my feet can carry me, but he’s still faster. I can hear him running behind me.

Before I can even touch the doorknob, Henry grabs my arm and roughly pulls me against his naked chest.

I react violently, thrashing and kicking at him with all my might.

“Let go of me. Let go!!”

Henry pins both my arms behind my back and growls.

“Calm down, Amani. Calm down for fuck’s sake. Stop with the drama!”

I become deathly still when he utters that last sentence. I look up at his sharp green eyes, wondering what I ever saw in this monster.

“Drama? I’m being dramatic? I catch you and your secretary, whom you’ve repeatedly lied to me that you’re not sleeping with, going at it like wild animals and I’m the dramatic one?”

He scoffs. “I never lied to you. I wasn’t sleeping with Laura before. You disappeared for two days, Amani. What was I supposed to do? A man’s got needs.”

I stare at him incredulously.

“A man’s got needs? Your son died three days ago, you low down bastard. I’ve been grieving, depressed. You never bothered to call me or even check up on your own grieving wife because you were too busy shagging your secretary. You should be ashamed of yourself, Henry. Shame on you!” My voice drips with disgust. My blood is boiling.

His grip on my arm tightens and I wince in pain.

“Let go. You’re hurting me.”

His eyes flash with anger.

“You never used to be like this, Amani. You’ve become quite bold. Disrespectful, too. I need you to remember that I am still your husband and you must give me the respect I deserve. Do you bloody understand?!”

“Henry, darling. Let go of her.” A voice says from behind him. Laura.

“I understand that you’re upset, but you might hurt her. You don’t need any scandal in your life right now.”

Henry releases me immediately and I stagger against the table, trying to catch my breath.

It doesn’t go over my head that he only released me after his mistress asked him to.

Bile rises in my throat as I watch Laura hand him his pants. He was naked the whole time!

By the time he’s done wearing his pants, I’ve recovered from my bout of panic.

Despite the burning anger in my veins, my back is ramrod straight and my chin is lifted, “I sent you the divorce papers. Why haven’t you signed them?”

Henry’s eyes are murderous.

“And I already told you that we’re not getting divorced.

Look, David is dead and there’s honestly nothing that you and I can do about it. I know I’ve made some mistakes, but life goes on. What do you need to move past it? A new house? A new car?”

My disgust is tripling by the second.

“You cheated on me—“

“All men cheat, Amani!” He roars. “Besides, it was a one time thing. If you want to divorce me just because of this, then you’re making a grave mistake. There’s no man on this planet who doesn’t cheat on his wife. Live with it.”

A sarcastic laugh slips past my lips and I shake my head.

“Just because you’re a disloyal bastard doesn’t mean all men are like you, Mr. Wilson. I regret the day I ever set my eyes on you. I regret the day we got married. You should be ashamed of yourself, sleeping around with your secretary just three days after the death of your only son!”

I pick up my bag from the floor and turn towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Henry snaps. “Come back here immediately!”

I pause with my fingers on the knob and shoot him a death glare.

“My days of being your humble, submissive wife are over. You no longer have the right to order me around. Sign the divorce papers, Henry.

If I take you to court myself, I might change my mind and actually lay claim on half of everything you own.”

I turn to leave but stop once again, my eyes straying to Laura who currently has a smug look on her face.

“Congratulations, by the way. You both deserve each other. Two rotten beans in a pod.”

“No man will ever marry you if you leave me. Do you hear me? You’ll be single for the rest of your life!” He roars.

Even if his words hurt like hell, I scoff.

“Don’t threaten me with happiness, Henry.”

Then I give him the middle finger and walk out of the office with my head held high…

***

HENRY

“Damn stubborn woman.” I mutter under my breath. “She makes me so angry.”

I turn to Laura who’s standing quietly behind me and take both her hands in mine.

“I’m so sorry about that, baby. Amani never used to be like this.”

She shrugs and blood rushes to my cock at the sight of her hardened nipples poking through my shirt.

“Aren’t you tired of her?” She whispers softly. “I mean, all she ever does is nag. Don’t you need some peace of mind already?”

“I’m tired, but—”

She places a finger against my lips, staring at me with those seductive eyes that never fail to make me weak in the knees.

“If you’re tired, then give her what she wants. Divorce her. Marry me and adopt my children as your own.”

004 — LAURA’S ILL-MANNERED CHILDREN

At exactly three PM the next day, I stand outside my matrimonial home, clutching the strap of my bag in a death grip.

Henry had called me an hour ago with news that he’d finally decided to sign the divorce papers, but I was expected to pick it up at our house. I didn’t want to come here but he was adamant.

I can already feel tears pricking my eyes. This house holds too many memories of my dear David.

I finally summon the courage and knock once. The door opens almost immediately and Zeya, our house keeper, appears.

“Who is it…?”

Her eyes widen in surprise when she sees me.

“Mrs. Amani! Oh, it’s so wonderful to see you again. How’ve you been?”

The middle aged woman pulls me into a bear hug and I almost burst into tears as her familiar peach scent fills my nostrils.

“It’s wonderful to see you too, Zeya.”

With my best friend in another country and my aunt always busy with work, Zeya was always my only companion on those nights when Henry never made it home because he was too busy with “work” and David was too sick to play with.

She wraps her arms around me and leads me into the mansion.

It’s like stepping into a time warp. Everything is just as I left it on the night I had to rush David to the hospital alone. Nothing has changed.

I open my mouth to speak but just then, a childish squeal pierces the air. I pause.

“What was that?”

Zeya shakes her head, her eyes narrowing with annoyance.

“Well, the boss, he…” she heaves a long sigh. “He returned last night with Laura and her children. They came with a couple of overnight bags so I guess they’ll be staying here awhile.”

My throat tightens with anger. What exactly did I expect from a bastard like Henry? It’s almost like his dead son and I never existed.

Something suddenly dawns on me and I turn to Zeya.

“Mrs Laura’s children, which room are they staying in?”

Zeya lowers her eyes guiltily and that’s all I need to know.

Propelled by a very healthy dose of rage, I stomp up the stairs and follow the squeals until I arrive at my late son’s bedroom. I push the door open and my eyes widen in horror.

The entire room is trashed. I never got the chance to pack David’s things so his toys are scattered all over the marble floors. The Lightning McQueen wallpapers on the walls are covered with crayons and there’s a sharp, acrylic smell in the air. Nail polish.

“What’s going on here?!” I snap, trying hard to control my annoyance.

The room falls silent immediately. Both girls pause their jumping on the bed and turn in my direction. They’re beautiful children, I must admit. They both have their mother’s blonde hair and air of superiority.

“Look, Myrtle, it’s Mr. Wilson’s wife.” One of them says.

The younger twin, Maya, wrinkles her nose in disgust.

“My mommy says you’re a witch and you ate your son for dinner.”

My fingers clench and unclench with helpless anger as I take in David’s broken toys and scattered clothes.

I can’t take my anger out on the girls. They’re just children.

No longer able to hold it in, I push away from the door and go in search of Henry.

“Henry? Where are you? Henry!”

I finally hear his voice when I reach the top of the stairs.

“What’s the commotion all about?” He growls, stepping out of his home office.

He stops in his tracks when he sees me.

“Amani. When did you arrive?”

“You really have no respect for the dead, do you?” I deadpan, not bothering to answer his question.

He rolls his eyes.

“What are you going on about now?”

“What are Laura and her children doing here?” My voice is very calm, betraying the storm that currently brews inside of me.

“Well, Laura is currently having issues with the plumbing at her apartment and it’ll take a few days to get it fixed, so I asked her to stay here for a while.” At my angry stare, he quickly adds;

“Don’t be like this, Amani. You didn’t expect me to leave the poor children to take their baths with freezing cold water, did you? That would be cruel!”

“Okay, Mr. Philanthropist. Well done! But couldn’t you find another room to keep her children? They’ve destroyed all of David’s things before I even got the chance to pack them up. How could you…?”

“Don’t tell me you're this upset because of a couple of toys.” He asks sarcastically. “If it bothers you that much, I’ll buy new ones.”

I open my mouth to reply to him but snap it back shut immediately. I honestly do not know what to say.

“You know what, Henry? Just when I start to think that you might have a bit of human compassion or even common sense, you shock me every single time.

I’m here for the divorce papers. Where are they?”

He takes a step in my direction but I fist my fingers and stand my ground. I will not cower.

“I didn’t sign the papers.”

“Wait, what?”

He’s still coming closer.

“I said I didn’t sign it. I just wanted you to come home. We need to talk, Amani.”

“You tricked me!”

“And what if I did? How else was I supposed to get your attention?”

Henry is standing too close to me now. One more step and my chest will literally be plastered against his.

“You really are a monster.”

His eyes bulge with anger. “Don’t you dare talk to me in that manner!”

He stretches his hand towards me but I edge backwards immediately.

“Don’t you dare touch me!”

“Mrs. Amani. Watch out!” Zeya screams.

Before I can even understand what’s going on, my foot slips on the edge of the stairs and I flail my arms in a useless attempt to regain my balance.

One second, I’m hurling profanities at Henry and the next, I go tumbling down the marble stairs.

Shards of pain explode through my entire body as I helplessly roll down the stairs.

By the time I reach the bottom, my entire body is on fire and I feel dizzy as hell.

The last thing I remember before the darkness consumes me is Henry’s voice.

“Quick, Zeya. I think she’s unconscious. We need to take her to the hospital…!”

***

BHYRON

Macaulay Group of Companies is one of the most successful conglomerate of companies in the United States, and as the CEO, I detest debtors.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Ophelia, but I can no longer extend the time frame for the loan. You’ve been owing my company for the past two years. I think I’ve given you ample time to make the payment.”

Ophelia lowers head, her eyes clouding with despair.

“I just need one more month, Bhyron. Please. We’ve barely recorded thirty percent profit ever since the company went bankrupt. For the sake of the relationship between our families, just be patient with me this one last time.”

I clench and unclench my fists, trying hard to maintain my cool.

“The relationship between our families is the main reason I’ve let you owe me twenty million dollars for the past two years. If you were anyone else, you’d be in jail right now.

I’m sorry but this is business. There’s nothing more I can do for you.”

The older woman’s eyes fill with tears and bile rises in throat.

“Think of Amani. How would she feel if she finds out that you’ve seized her parents’ company?”

I know damn well that Ophelia is resorting to emotional blackmail, but that doesn’t stop my chest from constricting painfully at the mention of her name.

Amani. The only woman who ever made my dark, dead heart come alive.

I shake my head to dispel thoughts of her. It doesn’t work, so I get to my feet instead.

“Stooping this low will not get you what you want, Mrs. Ophelia. And if you think I give two fucks about Amani’s feelings, you’re wrong. I forgot about her a long time ago.”

Lies. I never forgot Amani. I don’t think I ever will.

Mrs. Ophelia opens her mouth to say something but just then, her phone chimes in her bag.

“Who’s calling me now?” She mutters under her breath as she answers the call.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Is this Ophelia, Amani’s aunt?”

The call is on speakerphone and I can hear the man’s voice loud and clear. Why does he sound so familiar?

“Yes. That’s me. Who is this?”

“This is Henry. Her husband. Your niece had an accident. She’s been admitted to the General Hospital. You need to come down here immediately.”

My heart drums wildly against my ribcage as those words swirl around me. Amani had an accident? How? Why?

“I have to go.” Mrs. Ophelia says urgently, grabbing her bag and hurrying towards the door. “Amani’s in trouble.”

I hide my trembling fingers in the pockets of my slacks and stop her just before she leaves.

“Hold on. You didn’t come here with your car. I’ll drive you.”

She gives me an odd look. “Are you sure?”

In response, I retrieve my car keys and walk towards her.

Amani and I were not supposed to reunite like this. I’ve been carefully planning and plotting for the day I’d finally get to see her again, but fate always had a way of fucking up my plans.

If she’s in trouble, then I need to be there. No questions asked.

It’s time to meet my ex-fiancée again after five long years.

I know she hates me… and I don’t give a bloody damn.

005 — WHY IS HE HERE?!

AMANI

I can swear on the single sunflower that keeps growing atop my parents’ graves that wild banshees just held a concert in my brain.

I peel my eyes open with great effort, hissing as the blinding white lights assault my poor eyeballs. I try to lift my hand but little pin pricks of pain shoot through my entire body.

“It hurts…” I whimper helplessly.

As if on cue, the sound of shuffling feet reaches my ears and seconds later, my aunt’s face fills the peripheral of my vision.

“Amani, you’re awake! Oh, darling. I was so worried about you. What happened?”

Her worried tone snaps me to the present and I wince in pain as she helps me to a sitting position.

“Aunt… what are you doing here?”

She pulls me into a bear hug and despite the fact that my entire body is sore, I draw comfort from her warm embrace. Tears prick my eyes as I suddenly realise how much I’ve missed her.

“Aunt…”

“Hush, my darling. That’s enough.” She pulls back and gives me a wobbly smile, running her fingers over my face. “What happened to you, Amani? How did you fall down the stairs?”

Her expression suddenly becomes cold.

“Did Henry… do something to you?”

My chest constricts painfully as bits and pieces of our argument floods my memory. I shake my head and lower my face in shame.

“No, he didn’t. I actually slipped.”

Aunt Ophelia grips both my hands in hers and whispers fiercely; “are you scared of him? Is that it? You can tell me if he hurt you, Amani. I’ll deal with him.”

I look at her with tear filled eyes.

“Sometimes I wish he’d slapped me, aunt. I wish he’d physically hurt me instead. Maybe I would’ve healed faster. But the emotional pain that Henry has caused… I don’t think I’ll ever heal, aunt.”

My voice cracks at the end as tears spill down my cheeks and splatter all over my aunt’s arm. She doesn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, my baby. What has that fool done to you?”

She gives me another hug and I hold onto the material of her blouse as sobs wrack my frame.

I cry for my dead son.

I cry for my dead marriage.

I cry for my broken heart.

When there’s no more tears to cry and I’m completely empty, a doctor walks into the room.

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting.” He murmurs when he spots my red-rimmed eyes. “I’m here to check on the patient.

It takes approximately five minutes for the doctor to check my vital signs and ask a few questions. When he’s done, he turns to my aunt.

“Asides the pain and a few scratches, your niece is perfectly okay. She’ll be discharged today, but please ensure that you get her medication from the pharmacy and that she takes them.”

He’s about to leave with his nurse when I speak up;

“Nurse, have you seen my husband by any chance?” My mouth feels bitter as I say that word.

She turns and gives me a warm smile.

“Mr. Wilson left the moment he dropped you off. He said he had an important meeting to attend.”

So he abandoned me. I don’t even have the strength to act surprised.

“And Zeya? The lady who came with him.”

“Mr. Wilson asked her to go back home and take care of Miss Laura’s children.” The nurse replies swiftly.

Anger burns through my veins. Wow, Henry. Wow.

“Can I go now?” The nurse asks politely.

I nod. “Of course. My apologies for holding you up.”

When she leaves, I keep my head lowered, waiting for my aunt’s barrage of insults.

“Go ahead, aunt. Insult me all you want.” I whisper, my voice dripping with sadness. “I deserve it all. You warned me not to get married to Henry but I refused to listen. I deserve all the insults. Come on…”

Aunt Ophelia sinks into the bed beside me, wraps her arms around my shoulders and draws me close.

“The death of your son and your husband’s shitty behaviour are not your fault, my darling. I will never blame you for that.”

I blink quickly to stop the new onslaught of tears.

“But if I'd listened…”

“What is done is done. Besides, there’s another gentleman that I’d like you to meet.”

I snap away from her embrace like a biker on drugs, my eyes widening and narrowing in curiosity all at once.

“Another gentleman? Aunt…”

My curiosity morphs into suspicion when her green eyes refuse to meet mine.

“Keep an open mind, Amani, okay? He’s a good man. I’m sure… I’m sure you’ll like him.”

Okay, something is certainly wrong here. I flop down on the bed.

“Okay, then. Where is this man?”

My aunt has been trying to match me with “eligible bachelors” for as long as I can remember. I’m not even surprised.

Her eyes light with joy.

“He went over to the pharmacy to get your medication. He should be here anytime soon.”

I roll my eyes. “Aunt, you do realise that I’m not even divorced yet, right?”

She shrugs. “Amani, you're twenty five years old. Yes, you don’t need a man to complete you, but I will not let you spend another second wallowing in depression because of that bastard, Henry. Now, cheer up.”

Just as she concludes her honourable speech, a low, confident knock sounds on the door and my heartbeat accelerates for reasons I don't quite understand.

Aunt Ophelia leaps from the bed like she’s been shot.

“He’s here!”

My frown gets even deeper as I watch her pace around the room, wringing her hands nervously.

I calmly lean against my headboard. Whoever the man is, I’ll simply apologise for wasting his time and send him on his merry way.

“Come in. The door’s open.” She calls.

My bed is directly facing the door and the first thing I see when the stranger walks in are his polished, black Christian Louboutins.

Jeez, where did Aunt Ophelia find a rich dude this time?

“I’m sorry I’m late. The pharmacy is quite packed today.” His dark baritone pierces the air and all my senses immediately come alive.

My pulse pounds wildly against my throat as my eyes quickly travel up his well ironed slacks and three piece suit until I meet those familiar icy blue eyes.

For a moment, the world falls away and all I see is him. All my senses are attuned to him. I stop breathing all together.

“It can’t be.” I whisper mindlessly. “This is a dream, right?”

Standing in front of me is Bhyron Macaulay, New York City’s famous ice cold King and the man who shattered my heart to pieces when I was just eighteen.

Those cold blue eyes sweep over my frame, leaving tendrils of electricity in its wake. As usual, I can’t read him. I have no idea what he’s thinking.

As usual, he’s cold. Unreadable. Untouchable — just like six years ago.

“I don’t believe I came from Mars, Little Caramel. Don’t stare for too long. You’re starting to seem like a pervert.”

First came shock. Then comes anger.

I fist my trembling fingers underneath the sheets and open my mouth to scream at him.

Realising that it’s safer if I just scream at my aunt instead, I swivel my head in her direction.

“What the flipping hell is he doing here, aunt? Start talking, please. And this better be good.”

I watch with rising distress as Aunt Ophelia slowly edges towards the door.

“There, there. There’s no need to be violent, Amani.”

I bare my teeth at her. “That is not the answer to my question.”

She pauses at the door and gives me a nervous smile.

“Look, Bhyron just wants to speak with you. He even got your medication from the pharmacy. He’s such a nice man.”

I’m trembling with anger at this point. My aunt knows more than anyone how much this man hurt me, how shattered I was when he suddenly called off our betrothal. How could she do this to me?

“I don’t want him here. Ask him to leave.”

Without waiting for her response, I settle into the uncomfortable hospital bed and shut my eyes, hoping that my worst nightmare will be gone by the time I open them.

My brain registers the opening and closing of the door. I think I’m alone until I hear the crunching sound of a paper bag. I sit up and roll my eyes.

“Aunt, you’re so lucky you convinced him to leave. How could you…?”

The words get stuck in my throat when my eyes clash with Bhyron’s tall frame leaning against the door.

He’s still here?!

There’s a very devilish smirk on his perfect lips. Asides that, he seems completely unbothered.

I swallow thickly as I take him in. He’s changed so much from the teenager I used to know. His tall, lanky frame has developed into well toned, solid muscle. His perfectly symmetrical face has a hint of dark stubble and his once cropped hair currently falls to his shoulders in chestnut-coloured waves.

He was a handsome teenager, but as an adult, Bhyron Macaulay is gorgeous. Dangerously so.

He resembles a cross between Aquaman and my all time crush, Lee Min-Ho, thanks to his mixed Asian-American genes.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, praying my voice does not quiver.

He takes one step in my direction and my toes curl in trepidation.

“Is that how you welcome an old friend? Where are your manners, Little Caramel?”

I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. When I open them, Bhyron is staring so intently at me, I’m pretty sure he can see straight into my soul.

“Six years ago, you said that you couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with me. You said I was filthy.”

I lift a brow at him. “What changed, Bhyron? Have you suddenly developed the ability to stand filth since we last met?”

Something shifts in his eyes. Something dark.

“We’ll talk about what happened six years ago when you get better. Right now, you need to take your medication.”

“Right. The medication.” I murmur sarcastically. “How much do I owe you for that? You don’t need to stay around and pretend like you suddenly care about me. How much is your money?”

When he speaks, I can feel the subtle anger in his tone.

“You owe me twenty million dollars, Little Caramel. How about that…?”

006 — THROATY, SEXY BARITONE

AMANI

The last time I felt this shocked was the day Daisy, one of my weird ass classmates in elementary school, ate a live bug right in front of me.

I blink at Bhyron, waiting patiently for him to inform me that that was an unsuccessful attempt at a joke. He doesn’t.

“What the hell are you talking about? What kind of medication costs twenty million dollars? I fell from a flight of stairs, not a damn skyscraper.”

His lips curve in a dangerous smirk that sends cold shivers down my spine. Without answering my question, he grabs one of the visitors’ chairs and starts walking towards me.

Suddenly, I lose the ability to breathe properly. “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think? I want to sit beside you.”

Panic. I’m panicking.

“There’s absolutely no need for that. I could hear you just fine even when you stood at the door, which is exactly where I prefer you to stand.”

Bhyron ignores me as usual, choosing to do what he wants. I almost forgot that Bhyron Macaulay listens to no one. Oh, except his mother.

He plants the wooden chair beside me and sinks his large frame into it. I’m surprised that the chair doesn’t cry out for help.

For the next few seconds, Bhyron just… stares at me. He doesn’t utter a single word. He just stares. My insides are currently burning with a mixture of nervousness, anger and confusion. What the hell is going on?

Finally, I turn to him and arc one brow;

“If you’ve got something to say, say it and leave.”

He leans back in his seat and stretches those long legs. I’m suddenly assailed by memories of the times his thighs were my favorite place to sit while his fingers tangled lazily in my hair. I feel sick to my stomach.

“Six months gave you a smart mouth, I see. What else has changed?”

My jaw tightens with anger. “You don’t have any right whatsoever to ask that question, but I’ll gladly tell you what will change — the fact that you walked into this room with a perfectly working nose, but you might leave with it broken if you don’t say your piece right about now.”

He chuckles, and the low, throaty sound is more sexy than I care to admit.

“Your aunt has constantly borrowed money from me for the past four years, Amani. She owes me twenty million dollars as I speak.”

That statement is so unexpected, I blink in shock, whipping my head in his direction. “What did you say?”

I hope he’s joking, but the dark, serious gleam of his eyes and the tightening of his jaw tells me that he finds no humor in that statement.

“That’s not all. Your parent's company started facing a backslide in profits four years ago. As I speak, Will & Julia Perfumery is completely bankrupt. Your aunt borrowed from me with hopes that she could get the company back on its feet, but she kept failing and kept returning for more money.

Her debts were due to be paid about a year ago but I kept holding it off because of y— because of the relationship our family once shared. Not any more. I’m ready to collect every single penny she owes and I’m serious about it this time.”

Maybe Daisy eating a bug is not the most shocking event that has occurred in my short life, because this definitely takes the crown.

I sit in stunned silence, my fingers literally trembling with shock.

My aunt has never told me anything negative about our company’s financial situation. We spoke every week and she always sounded happy and content.

“The bottom line of the matter is that you and your aunt have two options,” Bhyron continues in that powerful baritone;

“You both have two days to pay your debt in full, otherwise, you can kiss Will & Julia Perfumery goodbye.

I already possess a court order that authorizes me to take over complete ownership of the company.

If you don’t have the money ready in the next forty eight hours, I advise you to pack up and vacate the company before my men arrive to pull it down…”

007 — FROM HEARTBREAK TO SAVAGE QUEEN

AMANI — SIX YEARS AGO ( AGE 19)

***

“Sweetheart, you look so excited this morning. What’s going on?”

I grin at my aunt and twirl, showing off my little white dress. I decided to wear this dress today because white is my fiancé’s all time favourite colour.

“I have a date with Bhyron. He asked me to look extra nice today because he has a special surprise for me. I’m so excited.”

Something flashes in Aunt Ophelia’s eyes, but it disappears so quickly, I’m left wondering if I’d imagined it. Her lips stretch in a wide grin.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. You look gorgeous, my love. I hope you have a wonderful time.”

A part of me registers that her excitement seems a bit forced, but just like the naïve nineteen year old that I am, I choose to ignore it.

Aunt Ophelia has been taking care of me ever since my parents died in an unfortunate boat cruise accident early last year. She has two grown children but decided to raise me as her own. I love her so much. Without her and Bhyron, I would’ve probably died of drug overdose after the death of my parents.

Suddenly, the smooth horn of a car filters in through the open windows and my heart soars with even more excitement. Oh, I’m so in love.

“That’s my man! I’ll see you later, aunt. Don’t let Doherty eat all the chocolate cake!”

Doherty’s my cousin and Aunt Ophelia’s first son.

Without waiting for her response, I snatch my hot pink purse from the kitchen island and proceed to float out of the kitchen on the wings of love. Literally.

Outside, the fluttering of my heart morphs into fierce drumming when I sight the gleaming, silver Maserati parked by the curb. But what really draws my attention is the man leaning against it.

Bhyron Macaulay. The man of my dreams. The air I breathe. The love of my life.

Over the years, Bhyron has grown right before my eyes, from a tall, gangly teenager to a solid, muscled young man. At twenty-four, he’s accomplished way too much for a man his age, and I’m so proud to call him mine.The fact that he’s gorgeous-as-sin is just an added bonus.

He’s dressed in a silk dress shirt that’s neatly tucked into sleek, black slacks. His feet are encased in shiny Tomfords, and when he looks up, those fierce blue eyes fixate on me, sending pleasurable shivers up my spine.

My man. My man. My man.

He holds out a hand to me and I literally run into his arms, giggling when he kisses my neck.

“Mmm, Vanilla.” He whispers in that delicious , throaty baritone. Just how I like it.”

Three minutes later, I’m seated inside the luxurious Maserati and we’re already speeding towards our destination.

“Where are we going?” I ask, too excited to notice his sudden, unusual silence.

“To your favourite place, Little Caramel. The beach.”

I let out a high-pitched squeal of joy and a corner of his lips lift in a sensuous smile.

The ride passes by quickly with me chattering nonstop. Finally, we arrive and he helps me out of the car.

My excitement gradually dwindles when we just keep walking towards the water. I expected a reservation at a beach restaurant or even a romantic picnic by the ocean.

I keep stealing glances at him but he doesn’t return my gaze. Bhyron’s a naturally quiet guy, but today, he seems distant.

My confusion escalates when we finally get as close to the water as allowed… and just stop.

“Uh… babe? Where’s the restaurant?” I ask with a nervous smile.

Bhyron takes off his designer glasses and looks down at me with a closed off, unreadable expression.

“What restaurant?”

Okay…

“The beach restaurant, silly. Or is it a picnic?” I look around excitedly, searching for the blanket and romantic set up.

Bhyron frowns.

“I never said I was taking you to a restaurant, neither did I say we were going on a picnic date. I only said we were going to the beach.”

I wouldn’t be bothered if he’d said that to me on a normal day, but his tone is harsh, slightly condescending. Bhyron has never, ever spoken to me in that manner. I suddenly feel apprehensive.

The dread in my stomach triples further when he suddenly lets go of my hand.

I know I might come off as clingy and needy, but at this point, I do not care. Something’s not right. I can feel it. And it scares me to death.

“Babe? What’s wrong with you? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

I try to hold his hand again but he steps back. That’s when I realise that something is indeed not right.

“We’re not here for a date or any of that bullshit. We’re here because I’ve got something important to say.”

I blink in surprise. I’ve known Bhyron since I was five years old and I’ve never heard him swear even once. He considers it ungentlemanly. What’s going on?

Finally, he looks me in the eyes and says those words that would leave me heartbroken for a long, long time.

“I am no longer interested in this betrothal, Amani. I’m no longer interested in this relationship. Let’s call it quits. It’s over.”

For a moment, I just stand there, struggling to come to terms with what I’ve just heard. I’m shocked. No, that’s an understatement. I’m flabbergasted.

“B-babe, what are you saying?” I stutter helplessly. “Why? What happened? I thought things were going great…”

He holds up a hand, effectively cutting me off. His gorgeous face is twisted with anger and his eyes blaze with annoyance.

“There’s no need for all of these questions. I’m choosing to call it quits. You should respect my decision.”

An image of what my life would look like without Bhyron suddenly flashes in my mind. Propelled by desperation, I lunge forward and grab his shirt;

“Babe, please. Please, don’t do this. Just tell me what I did wrong. I’m sorry. I’ll change, I promise. Just, please…” my voice breaks as tears cascade down my cheeks in torrents.

My heart is broken. I can hear it shatter to the sand in a million pieces. If Bhyron leaves me today, I might as well kill myself because I would never survive it.

Bhyron grabs my hand that’s firmly wrapped around his shirt and pushes me away, causing me to stumble backwards in the sand.

“Don’t you have any self respect?!” He spits bitterly, his voice dripping with disgust.

“No!” I sob as I run towards him. “No, please…”

“I never loved you, Amani!” He bellows suddenly. “It was all lies.”

I freeze, my pulse pounding wildly against my throat. “Wh-what?”

“You heard me.” He snarls. “I never loved you. The only reason we’ve been together this long is because of my parents. They forced this betrothal on me. I never wanted to be in a relationship with someone like you.”

I shut my eyes tight and press my left palm against my chest, over my broken heart. It hurts. It hurts so badly.

Bhyron retrieves his phone from his pocket and quickly scrolls through it, then he waves it in my face;

“This is the woman I’m in love with. Her name is Sharon, and we’re getting married in a month’s time.”

I blink in shock and recognition… because I recognise the gorgeous, dark-haired lady on the screen. Her name is Sharon Armstrong. Her family, the Armstrongs, own the biggest petroleum company in the city. And they’re filthy rich.

“You’re in love with Sharon? You’re getting m-married?” I ask with a small voice.

Bhyron nods and my tears fall afresh.

“B-but why? What does she have that I don’t? I thought you loved me. I’ve been betrothed to you since the day I was born, Bhyron. You’re the only man I know. What do you want me to do? How do expect me to start over?”

“This is exactly why I don’t want us to get married.” He growls angrily. “You’re just weak, filthy trash, Amani. We were never in the same social standing anyways. I can’t marry a woman who isn’t in my class. I hope you understand and stay away.”

No. I will never understand.

He turns to leave but my words stop him in his tracks;

“If you leave me, I’ll kill myself.” I threaten mindlessly. “I’m not joking, Bhyron. If you leave, you can kiss me goodbye forever.”

His shoulders are stiff as he turns to me. His eyes are ice cold. His jaw is tight.

“Do whatever you want, Amani. I don’t care about you and I never have. I only endured this relationship because of my parents, but not anymore. If you want to die, then die.

Those are the final words that break my heart completely. No longer able to hold myself up, I sink to the ground, consumed by pain and sorrow.

I watch him leave, hoping he’d turn around and tell me that it’s all a silly prank. I’d forgive him willingly. I’d take him back without complaint. But he doesn’t. Instead, Bhyron climbs into his car and drives away, leaving me behind.

This is the story of how Bhyron Macaulay hacked my heart to pieces. After him, I promised to swear off men, but in my second year of college, when I hadn’t even recovered from the pain he’d caused, I met Henry, and made the same mistake all over again.

Now, six years later, Bhyron is back to torment me.

I’m starting to think he’d made a vow to himself to make my life a living hell…

***

BHYRON (PRESENT)

‘Don’t touch her. Don’t touch her. She’s not yours. Yet.’ Those words float around my brain like a chant as I watch Amani twirl a strand of her naturally white-blonde curls around one slender finger.

It takes a lot of self control to stop myself from reaching out and wrapping the golden strands around my fists, just like the good old days.

Six years ago, I told myself that I wasn’t going to search for her. I told myself that I could forget her. But Amani has occupied my mind every single day for the past six years. I go to bed thinking about her and wake up only after dreaming about her. So basically, I lied to myself.

I finally caved and searched for her on social media two years ago, only to receive the heart shattering news that she’d gotten married.

When I first walked into the ward and laid my eyes on her, I can swear my heart shifted. I’ve missed her terribly. Now that she’s within my reach, I’m never, ever letting her go again.

Suddenly, she looks up and pins me with those bright chocolate eyes.

“What are you still doing here?”

I frown. “Excuse me?”

“You came here to inform me that I’m indebted to you. Message delivered. You can leave now.”

I remain frozen to my chair, unsure of how to react. She’s right. They still have two days to repay their debt and I have no reason to be here.

But one thing is certain. I don’t want to leave.

Amani’s eyes flash with annoyance and she points at the door.

“In case you’re confused, the door is that way. Please, leave.”

I’m just about to respond when suddenly, violent vibrations rock the room and the building trembles in response.

My heartbeat accelerates and Amani’s eyes widen in shock seconds before the lights go out,

Shit! It’s an earthquake warning.

We’ve been getting these warnings for the past few weeks. No one is certain if New York will experience an actual earthquake, but these mini earthquakes are gradually becoming a normal occurrence.

Adrenaline shoots through my system as the vibrations start coming in quick successions.

I hear Amani’s whimper of fear and without thinking, I dive onto the bed, wrap her small frame tightly against my chest and roll off, choosing to take cover underneath the sturdy bed.

It takes a moment for the adrenaline to wear off and for me to realize that Amani is safely tucked in my arms, and she’s not fighting me. But she’s scared. I can feel it.

Her delicious vanilla scent fills my nostrils and sends blood rushing to my cock in torrents. This is the only woman who can turn me on without even trying.

Before I even get the chance to properly savor the moment, the lights come back on. I know the moment Amani realizes that she’s no longer in danger — she stops trembling and her shoulders stiffen in response to my touch.

Slowly, she looks up and our gazes clash and hold. The world suddenly stops spinning. We’re so close, I can count every single one of her thick, long lashes.

Her lips part and I can no longer hold myself back. Without thinking, I wrap my fingers around her nape, gently push her head closer and cover her lips with mine.

Almost immediately, I feel a sharp, painful sensation that has me releasing her and rearing backwards in surprise.

Amani’s lower lip is covered in blood and her eyes are blazing with chocolate rage.

Shit! She bit me.

“How dare you kiss me without my permission?!” She snaps on an almost growl. “Try this nonsense again and I’ll rip your lips off right before suing your ass for assault…”