Mag-log inAfter her fiancé publicly humiliates her during a viral Instagram Live breakup, 27 year old interior designer Lila Moreau escapes to a secluded Caribbean island, desperate to reclaim her confidence and outrun the heartbreak that shattered her sense of worth. What she doesn’t expect is a single night that will alter the course of her life. Julian Cruz, a 31 year old billionaire real estate mogul and founder of Cruz Developments, arrives on the same island to finalize a discreet, multi-million-dollar deal. Hardened by betrayal and a painful past, Julian has sworn off love entirely, believing ambition and success are the only things that never abandon him. A chance meeting at a beach bar ignites an undeniable attraction neither of them planned for nor wanted. One reckless, unforgettable night follows, free of names, promises, or expectations. At dawn, Lila disappears, leaving behind only a silver anklet and memories Julian cannot erase. Months later, fate intervenes again when Julian commissions an interior designer for his newly purchased Chicago mansion to the woman who never truly left his mind. Forced into close proximity, suppressed emotions resurface amid late night meetings, simmering tension, and unresolved desire. But their growing bond is threatened by lingering betrayals, unresolved pasts, and fears neither is ready to confront. As secrets resurface and old wounds reopen, Lila and Julian must decide whether love is worth the risk of being broken again.
view moreThe wine had gone straight to my head, turning the afternoon into a soft, golden blur. Mia was still in the plunge pool, floating on her back, one hand lazily trailing circles in the water while the other clutched the now-empty rosé bottle like a scepter. She looked like she’d been born for this exact moment, sun-kissed, unbothered, radiating the kind of effortless joy I used to have before everything cracked open.I sat on the edge of the lounge, bare feet dangling in the cool water, Julian’s stolen shirt hidden beneath the white robe. Every shift of the fabric against my skin reminded me of him, his hands, his mouth, the way he’d held me like I was something sacred and dangerous at the same time. My body still hummed with the aftershocks, sore in the best possible way, but the high was fading, and in its place came the familiar, unwelcome visitor: memory.Mia noticed the shift in my face the second it happened. She rolled over, swimming to the edge with powerful kicks that sent ripp
Sunlight poured through the gauzy curtains like liquid gold, hot and insistent, pulling me out of sleep the way only Caribbean mornings can, slow, sticky, and impossible to ignore.I blinked, disoriented, the sheets twisted around my legs like I'd fought them all night. My body felt heavy, deliciously used, every muscle reminding me of last night in tiny, secret throbs. The soreness between my thighs pulsed with each heartbeat, a quiet echo of him, deep, relentless, perfect. I pressed my face into the pillow and inhaled. His scent clung to me still: dark rum, salt, clean linen, and something darker, something that made my stomach flip even now.God. I overslept. Badly.The clock on the nightstand blinked at 10:36 a.m. Mia was going to roast me.I rolled over, expecting to find her sprawled across the other bed in her usual post-party chaos, empty wine bottles, mascara-streaked pillow, phone dead on the floor. But the bed was empty. Made. Pristine.A burst of laughter floated in from o
The shrill ring of my phone shattered the quiet haze of sleep, pulling me from the depths like a hook in my chest. I groaned, rolling over, my hand fumbling blindly on the nightstand. The room was still dim, pre-dawn light filtering through the open windows in weak, silvery slants. The sheets beside me were cool,empty. But my mind was still tangled in her: the curve of her hip under my palm, the way she'd gasped my name, no, not my name. We'd never exchanged those. Just bodies. Just fire.I grabbed the phone, squinting at the screen. Sebastian. Of course. My cousin, my best friend, my perpetual pain in the ass. I swiped to answer, voice rough from sleep and last night's exertions."What?""Julian, you sound like you got run over by a yacht. Rise and shine, cousin. I'm en route to the airstrip, your private jet's fueled and waiting. Pack your shit and get moving. We need to be wheeled up in an hour."I sat up, rubbing my eyes, the fog lifting as his words sank in. Dubai. The deal. Righ
The sky outside the windows was still the bruised purple of pre-dawn when I woke up.His arm was heavy across my waist, his breath slow and even against the back of my neck. His body heat had seeped into every inch of me during the night, turning the sheets into a cocoon I didn’t want to leave. I lay there for a long minute, listening to the ocean breathe beyond the open glass doors, feeling the steady thump of his heart against my spine. My skin still hummed from him. Every place he’d touched, my hips, my breasts, the sensitive skin behind my ears, felt marked, claimed, alive in a way that made my chest ache.I shifted carefully, testing the soreness between my thighs. God. Yes. There it was. A delicious, tender ache that reminded me exactly how many times he’d taken me apart and put me back together. Once on the beach, once, maybe twice? in this bed. I’d lost count somewhere around the third orgasm, when the world had narrowed to his mouth on my skin and the sound of my own broken
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