Between Heartbeats
Celeste Moreau vanished from CEO Jae-won Choi's world three years ago, stealing critical research and a secret: his daughter.
When their child falls ill, Celeste is forced to return to Seoul and strike a desperate deal with the man she betrayed: her medical expertise for their daughter's life. Trapped in his corporate fortress, their past becomes a volatile war of bitter resentment and forbidden attraction.
As corporate sabotage threatens everything, Celeste must decide if the secret she protects is her greatest curse or her only remaining power, and if the man who wants to destroy her is the only one who can save their child.
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Chapter 6
FLASHBACK (Three Years Ago)
JAE-WON
I spotted her the moment she walked onto the stage.
The Seoul International Bio-Ethics Conference was usually a parade of gray suits and grayer ideas-academics more interested in theoretical posturing than actual innovation. I attended out of obligation, not interest. My company sponsored the event. My presence was expected.
But then she appeared.
Dr. Celeste Moreau. The name on the program meant nothing to me. Another Western researcher with another paper about moral frameworks and regulatory oversight. I'd planned to leave after the keynote.
I stayed.
She wore a simple black dress, her dark hair pulled back, and when she spoke, the entire auditorium seemed to lean forward. Not because she was loud or dramatic. Because she was precise. Confident. Every word chosen with the same care a surgeon chooses an incision point.
"We stand at a crossroads," she said, her accent turning the English words into something almost musical. "Gene therapy promises miracles. But without ethical frameworks, without restraint, we become architects of our own destruction."
I leaned back in my seat, studying her.
She presented data. Charts. Case studies of experimental treatments gone wrong. Her thesis was elegant-that innovation without ethics was just expensive chaos. That we needed guardrails before we needed breakthroughs.
It was idealistic nonsense.
And I couldn't look away.
She fielded questions with grace, never stumbling, never backing down even when a German researcher tried to corner her on implementation costs. She smiled and demolished his argument in three sentences.
When the session ended, I didn't think. I just moved.
I found her in the corridor outside the main hall, surrounded by a small crowd of admirers asking questions, requesting papers, offering collaboration. She was polite to all of them, but I could see the exhaustion creeping into her smile.
I waited.
When the crowd finally dispersed, I stepped forward. "Dr. Moreau."
She turned, and up close, I realized she was younger than I'd thought. Mid-twenties, maybe. Her eyes were striking-sharp and dark, the kind that saw through bullshit immediately.
"Yes?" She tilted her head slightly, curious but cautious.
"Jae-won Choi." I extended my hand. "CEO of Choi Pharmaceuticals."
Recognition flickered across her face, followed quickly by something that might have been suspicion. "Mr. Choi. Thank you for sponsoring the conference."
"Your theories are elegant, Dr. Moreau." I kept my voice neutral, professional. "But pointless on paper."
Her eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"
"Ethics without application is just philosophy. Pretty words that change nothing." I paused, watching her bristle. Good. I wanted her off-balance. "Come to Choi. Let's see if your principles can survive real-world application."
She stared at me for a long moment, and I couldn't tell if she was going to slap me or laugh.
She did neither.
"You're serious." It wasn't a question.
"I don't make jokes about recruitment, Dr. Moreau. You're brilliant. You're wasted in academia. Work with me. Build something that matters."
"Build something, or build your profit margin?" The challenge in her voice was sharp as glass.
I smiled. I couldn't help it. "Both. If you're good enough."
She should have walked away. Any reasonable person would have walked away.
Instead, she said, "When do I start?"
– – –
Her first day at Choi Pharmaceuticals was a Tuesday in September.
I cleared my schedule-something I never did for new hires, no matter how promising. I told myself it was strategic. She was a significant investment. I needed to ensure proper integration.
I was lying to myself.
I met her in the lobby at eight sharp. She wore a white blouse and dark slacks, her hair down this time, falling past her shoulders. Professional. Composed. But I caught the way her fingers tapped against her briefcase. Nervous.
"Dr. Moreau." I nodded. "Welcome."
"Please, call me Celeste." She smiled, and it was genuine this time. Excited. "I'm eager to see the facilities."
I gave her the full tour. Research wings. Testing labs. The gene sequencing center that had cost more than most hospitals' annual budgets. She asked questions at every stop-intelligent questions that made my department heads scramble for answers.
When we reached Lab 7, she stopped in front of a display showing our current VX-series gene therapy trial data.
"This sequence." She pointed at the screen, frowning. "You're using adeno-associated viral vectors, but the modification here-" Her finger traced a line of genetic code. "This could trigger an immune response. Have you tested for that?"
I stepped closer, looking at what she'd spotted. "We've run preliminary toxicity screens."
"Preliminary isn't enough." She turned to me, her face serious. "If you move to human trials with this configuration, you could kill someone."
The room went quiet. My lead geneticist looked like he wanted to disappear.
I studied the sequence again. She was right. We'd missed it. Or more accurately, we'd deemed the risk acceptable in pursuit of faster results.
"What would you change?" I asked.
She grabbed a tablet from the nearest workstation and started typing, pulling up molecular models, running simulations. I watched her work-the way she bit her lower lip when she concentrated, the way her fingers flew across the screen.
"Here." She showed me the revised sequence. "If you modify the capsid protein structure at this point, you maintain efficacy while reducing immunogenicity by approximately forty percent."
I looked at the data. Ran the numbers in my head. "This would delay the trial by three months."
"This would keep your trial subjects alive." She met my eyes, unflinching. "Isn't that worth three months?"
The debate that followed was intense. Electric. We argued over molecular structures and ethical boundaries, over speed versus safety, over what qualified as acceptable risk. My entire team watched, probably wondering if I was going to fire her on her first day.
I'd never been more fascinated in my life.
"Dinner," I said abruptly, checking my watch. It was past eight. "To continue the discussion."
She hesitated. "Mr. Choi-"
"Jae-won." I grabbed my jacket. "And it's not a request, Dr. Moreau. You just cost me three months. The least you can do is explain your reasoning over decent food."
She laughed-surprised and genuine. "Fine. But I'm choosing the restaurant."
– – –
She chose a small French bistro tucked away in Itaewon, far from the glass towers of Gangnam.
We sat by the window, Seoul glittering below us like a circuit board, and talked. About science. About ethics. About the impossible balance between innovation and caution.
Somewhere between the wine and dessert, the professional line blurred.
I watched her talk, animated and alive, and realized I wasn't thinking about gene sequences anymore.
"You're staring," she said softly.
"I know."
She should have looked away. Should have made an excuse and left.
Instead, she leaned closer.
The kiss was a collision-intellect and hunger, restraint and desire, everything we'd been dancing around all day crashing together at once.
When we finally pulled apart, both breathless, she whispered, "This is a terrible idea."
"I know," I said again.
And kissed her anyway.
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7.7
CONTENT WARNING ⚠️🔞
This book is strictly for a mature audience only. Reader's discretion is advised.
On her eighteenth birthday, Sabrina's life is stolen from her. She was sold into marriage to Scott Wendell, a ruthless and powerful billionaire more than twice her age. A man she's never met. A man who claimed her as payment for a debt she never owed
But the real problem wasn't the vows she took or the marriage document she signed.
It's his son. The revelation that Ace Wendell, the one boy in school that she's always fantasized about, the boy she's secretly loved from afar, is now her stepson.
Now living under the same roof, Sabrina finds herself torn between duty to her marriage and the dangerous pull toward the stepson who has wanted her just as desperately.
7.2
I didn't hear it from my mother or from family... I saw it online, just like everyone else. A headline, a picture, a ring on her finger. And the man standing beside her? Philip Davenport. Billionaire. CEO. Untouchable. The kind of man who takes what he wants and keeps it. Including my mother.
I was supposed to hate him-the man who replaced my father, the man I swore I'd destroy. So I made a plan: get close, get under his skin, make him want me... then watch everything fall apart. It was simple.
Until he looked at me like I was the only woman in the room. Until his touch lingered longer than it should. Until every glance, every word, every moment started to feel like something I couldn't control.
Now I'm caught in a dangerous game of desire and deception, where the lines I drew are slowly disappearing. The closer I get to him, the harder it is to remember why I started. My mother trusts me, my boyfriend loves me, and the man I was supposed to ruin is becoming the one I can't resist, and every step I take only pulls me deeper into something I was never meant to feel.
I wanted revenge. What I got instead was something far more dangerous. And now? I might lose everything. Because falling for my mom's fiancé was never the plan. And if I'm not careful, I won't just lose the game... I'll lose myself.
9.8
They say when life throws you a lemon, you should turn it to a lemonade, even though some things weren't just intentional.
"For the next three years, you will work under my son, Anthony. You will obey him unconditionally and assist him in developing the first humanoid robots. It's all stated in the contract."
Melissa, a brilliant first-class robotics engineer, signs a binding contract to save her only sister who urgently needs surgery. Not only must she work for Anthony-the arrogant CEO of the Morgan Group-but she must also marry him.
Throughout the contract, Anthony treats her like a lowlife, belittling her at every opportunity and even stealing credit for her achievements, convinced she would never dare to leave. But as the three years draw to a close, her supposed knight in shining armor, Josh, shows up as he promised.
Will Melissa walk away from Anthony, reclaim her freedom, and rekindle the spark with Josh? Or will Anthony realize too late just how much he stands to lose when the countdown to their divorce begins?
And what if there was more to the accident that left Melissa's sister in need of surgery-and forced Melissa into this contract?
If you want to feel first hand what it means for a lady to possess her possession, then get over here!
8.8
I was the despised adopted daughter of the Sanders family, hiding behind heavy gothic makeup and enduring their daily disgust.
The day my adoptive father died in a severe car crash, my adoptive mother and stepsister didn't even bother to call me.
Instead, while his body was still warm, my mother filed a multi-million dollar life insurance claim.
"I am not feeding a useless freak for another day. Pack your trash and get out."
She kicked me out into the freezing rain, but that wasn't the worst of it.
My stepsister Cornelia stole my greatest secret. Five years ago, I saved the life of Fidel Vaughan, a ruthless billionaire heir, from a burning estate.
Cornelia claimed my identity, accepted a million-dollar reward, and secured a marriage proposal from him, burning my only proof to ashes.
They thought I was just a helpless, pathetic high schooler they could discard and replace.
But when I hacked the police files, I discovered my father's crash wasn't an accident. It was a targeted hit, and the Vaughan Group had hijacked the traffic cameras to cover it up.
I washed off the ugly black makeup, shedding the disguise of a pathetic outcast.
I am Spectre, the world's most elusive hacker and underground doctor.
I intercepted the billionaire heir's heavily armed convoy in the dead of night. They thought they could steal my life and murder my father, but now, I hold the needle that controls Fidel Vaughan's sanity, and I will make them all pay.
8.4
The night her father is arrested outside their Manhattan townhouse, Amara Bennett's world collapses under flashing cameras and whispered accusations.
Behind the chaos stands one man.
Damian Wolfe.
New York's most feared billionaire CEO - ruthless, controlled, untouchable.
Years ago, Amara's father betrayed him.
Now Damian wants revenge.
He offers her a deal:
Marry him for one year.
Play the perfect wife.
And he will make her father's charges disappear.
It's supposed to be punishment.
A calculated humiliation.
But inside his glass penthouse high above Manhattan, hatred begins to blur into desire.
And when Amara uncovers a secret that proves her father may have been framed, she realizes she didn't just marry her enemy...
She married a man who might destroy everything she loves.
Because in New York, power is everything.
And love is the most dangerous weakness of all.
8.7
I was pregnant with the future heir of the Blackwood Pack, but my fated mate, Alpha Gavin, was nowhere to be found when sharp, tearing agony ripped through my swollen belly.
Instead of rushing to my side, he was in a luxury penthouse with his mistress, Piper.
When I desperately called his human number for help, it was Piper who answered the phone.
"I'm Piper. His future Luna."
Minutes later, I received a leaked audio file of Gavin promising to formally reject me the moment our pup was born.
Before the heartbreak could even set in, my armored SUV was violently rammed off the road by a massive truck.
It wasn't an accident. It was a targeted hit paid for by Piper's pack.
I woke up in the clinic with an empty womb. My pup was dead.
Gavin didn't even show up. He just mind-linked the butler to say he was "too busy" to deal with my loss.
He let his mistress murder our child and treated me like disposable trash, assuming my grief would make me a weak, compliant victim.
He thought he could just bury my trauma and move on with his perfect new life.
He was wrong.
I faked my own death in a fiery crash, leaving him with nothing but my signed rejection papers and the bloody receipt proving his mistress hired the killers.
Now, armed with a new identity and untraceable wealth, I am stepping out of the shadows.
I am going to bankrupt their packs from the inside out and make my former Alpha watch his empire burn.