CEO's Getaway Love
After a one night stand with the woman whose house Jason broke into, his life has never been the same. Like a siren's call, he can't get the nymphomaniac woman off his mind. Weeks later, while getting intel for the crew's next heist, Jason lays eyes upon the woman and follows her into a secret strip club. She appears to lead a double life. One where she's the CEO of a multimillion company and her father's golden child. The other side of her life is that she owns a strip club and is extremely erotic. Can Jason learn to live with her as she is? Will he put his pride aside to be with the woman? ... especially when his crew is hired to kidnap a woman who turns out to be the love of his life.
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Chapter 15
I offered him a small smile while I shook his hand. Mr Van Kline had dark brown hair that was riddled with grey strands. He had a neatly trimmed grey beard and stern eyes that shouted 'business'.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Van Kline." I gulped and could feel Kiara staring into my skull.
"I heard whispers that your grandmother will leave her company in your name. Is it true that she is thinking of finally retiring?" Mr Van Kline asked.
"We all know how stubborn my grandmother can be." I awkwardly chuckled and hoped I was right. Mr Van Kline nodded with a small smile. "I know it's time that she retires, but I think she'll work for as long as possible," I added. It was scary how easily lying came to me.
"Uh, yes, that is true. I hope to see you around more often. It appears my daughter has kept you hidden." He stated and looked at Kiara.
"Sorry, Daddy. Mr Porter here claimed to not enjoy such functions," Kiara replied and looked to stare at me. I felt a drop of sweat on my forehead and gulped.
"They can get tedious sometimes, but I hope this luncheon makes you realise it's not too bad." Her Dad shrugged. "Excuse me, I must go mingle with the rest of the guests." He remarked, then walked away with Mr Leuw following after him.
Kiara gripped my arm and pulled me into a chair by the table.
"What the fuck is going on?" Kiara harshly whispered and tried to not show that she was angry.
"I, uh, I... Mr Leuw..." I stuttered as my brain hit a blank.
"Do you even know who Mrs Porter is?" Kiara questioned, and I shook my head. "She is the wealthiest woman in Joburg! Her status and reputation are known across the country. No one messes with her because she can destroy you in seconds. Now, you're going around claiming to be her grandson! You have no idea how badly this will be when she finds out you are impersonating her family name."
"Mr Luew assumed I was her grandson when I helped her walk in. I tried to correct him, but he just kept on interrupting me." I stated and quickly whipped my forehead.
"Okay, stop stressing. Perhaps he won't tell anyone else. Why didn't you tell my father the truth? That's a great first impression, Jason. Fucking lying to my father the first time you meet him."
"I panicked, okay? I'm sorry." I apologised, and she placed her hand on my leg underneath the table to try to calm me down. Kiara could probably sense I was freaking out.
"We'll sort this mess out together. Let's just always change the topic when my father asks about you." She whispered, and I agreed. "I'll tell him the truth eventually, but not today. I'm too tired for that drama."
A waiter walked over with drinks, and I quickly downed one. Kiara asked him to bring over two cups of coffee as we discussed how I was going to answer questions as Mrs Porter's grandson. I had to keep up the façade until the luncheon came to an end.
Breakfast came around, and we were served a plate full of food. Mr Van Kline returned to the table, and we tried to direct the questions off topics of Mrs Porter or me as much as we could. I asked him more questions about his company and how he started off, which he gladly shared with me. Kiara and I had kept him talking even through dessert.
"Jason actually has a love for cars," Kiara added, which seemed to spark an interest in Mr Van Kline's eyes.
"Oh, really? I have a vast collection of automobiles ranging from a 1950 Aston Martin to an Aventador Rev Lamborgini. You should come over, and I'll show you the collection." He remarked.
"I would love that. Thank you, Mr Van Kline." I smiled.
"Please, call me Gregory. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around. My daughter seems quite fond of you, Mr Porter."
"Daddy!" Kiara gasped, and her cheeks shot red.
"I'm fond of her as well," I remarked, and Gregory smiled at me for the first time. He nodded, then sipped on his whiskey.
Music started playing, and couples made their way to the middle of the room to dance. I looked over at Kiara and held out my hand.
"Can I have this dance, Miss Kiara?" I asked, and she looked at her Dad.
"Go ahead, angel. I'll be fine here," Gregory stated.
Kiara looked back at me and smiled. "I would love to." She said and placed her soft hand in mine.
We walked over to the dance floor hand in hand. Couples danced around us, and I held Kiara's hand while my arm slipped around her waist. We were closer than other couples and didn't look like the friends Kiara wanted to act as.
"Do you even know how to dance?" Kiara questioned and stared into my eyes.
"I had to learn how to slow dance for my brother's wedding, so I know a bit," I replied with a smile and started moving to the music. The Van Klines had hired a pianist and singer that started to play 'Let me love you' by Justin Bieber. They changed something fast and upbeat into a beautiful slow song that let the lyrics fill your mind.
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9.5
My boyfriend, Jefferson, convinced me to give up my Yale scholarship for him. He was my secret, my escape from the shame of my mother's past, and I threw away my future for our love.
Then, at a gala, he publicly announced his engagement to Aubrey Carroll-the girl who made my high school years a living hell.
He trapped me in his mansion, forcing me to become her personal servant. She tortured me daily, culminating in her brutally killing our dog, Charlie, with a garden trowel.
When her friends arrived, they joined in, stripping me half-naked and live-streaming my panic attack for the world to see.
The man who once promised to protect me watched as they destroyed me.
But as I lay bleeding out on the floor, it wasn't an ambulance that arrived. It was the private security of Alexzander Stevens-my estranged, billionaire grandfather.
He revealed I was his sole heiress, and now, we were going to make them pay for every last tear.
9.7
Clarissa rushed into a crowded nightclub for one simple reason: to save her wildly drunk best friend.
But her ruthless billionaire husband, Giovanny, was watching from the VIP room. After effortlessly ruining a man just for grabbing her wrist, Giovanny punished Clarissa for breaching their public image contract with an impossible curfew.
When she inevitably arrived back at his penthouse late, he didn't just yell. He forced her to her knees by his bathtub to wash his back, making her watch an explicit, humiliating video as punishment.
A sudden family medical emergency dragged them to his parents' estate. Still in her soaked, transparent dress and his misbuttoned shirt, Giovanny's mother caught them. She joyfully assumed they had been passionately intimate.
Instead of clearing her name, Giovanny pulled Clarissa close and lied to his mother's face.
"We are working very hard on the family's future, Mother."
He locked her in the guest suite, tossed a sheer silk nightgown on the bed, and literally shattered the tablet holding their "no-contact" prenuptial agreement. He then slapped a file against the window—he had secretly bought all her father's toxic debt.
Clarissa was terrified. They were supposed to be business allies bound by a strict contract. Why was he suddenly acting like a predator determined to own her body and soul?
"Give me an heir, or your father goes to federal prison," he whispered.
Stripped of all choices, Clarissa picked up the white silk. She would surrender tonight to save her family, but as his shadow swallowed her, she made a silent vow to survive this monster, and one day, tear his empire to the ground.
8.1
Terminally ill.
Betrayed by her husband.
Abandoned by the only family she had.
Ariel died with nothing... and no one.
But fate gives her a second chance.
Reborn three years before her death, she walks away from the man who ruined her life-and takes back everything they stole.
Her love.
Her identity.
Her power.
Now, the cold billionaire who once ignored her can't take his eyes off her.
The brother who abandoned her starts to regret.
Too late.
Because this time, Ariel isn't the woman who begs.
She's the one who makes them kneel.
8.8
Elizbeth married the wealthy heir Carlton Wilkinson to save her grandfather's life's work.
But on their wedding night, instead of a loving husband, she faced a cold tyrant. He forced her to sign a brutal prenup, stripped her of all family rights, and banished her to a dingy guest room.
He was convinced she was just a pathetic, gold-digging liar.
When a catastrophic pain attack drove Carlton to smash his own head against the wall, Elizbeth rushed in to save him using her specialized acupuncture. She risked her life to calm his spasming nerves.
But the moment he woke up, he nearly choked her to death. He threw her against the wall, bleeding and bruised, accusing her of using cheap parlor tricks to poison him.
The next morning, his greedy relatives openly mocked her cheap clothes, waiting like vultures for Carlton to drop dead so they could steal his fortune.
Elizbeth was humiliated and terrified, but she soon discovered a classified secret.
Carlton was a former Delta Force operator slowly going mad from an undetectable weaponized biotoxin. The poison made him paranoid and violent. He would rather die in agony than accept help from a woman he despised.
Begged by his desperate grandfather, Elizbeth knew she had to cure him in the shadows.
At 1:00 AM, she slipped a heavy, odorless sedative into his water and sneaked into his pitch-black bedroom to begin the detox.
But as her silver needle hovered over his skin, a massive hand shot out and pinned her violently to the mattress.
"How much did they pay you to poison me?" he hissed in the dark, his eyes wide awake and blazing with murderous fury.
9.2
Arla was supposed to marry Clinton Freeman, the perfect fiancé who had promised to love her and protect her five-year-old son.
But instead, the cold steel of a dagger pierced her chest.
As she collapsed onto the freezing basement floor, she watched her adoptive sister Blair laugh.
"Look at her," Blair sneered, kicking her son's small, blue, lifeless body.
Clinton stood there, calmly wiping the bloody blade on a pristine handkerchief.
In her dying moments, the horrifying truth became clear. Her fiancé and her adoptive family had been plotting all along to steal her massive trust fund.
To break her, they had secretly tortured her child. Clinton had watched Blair pierce the little boy's arms with sewing needles, rewarding him with candy to keep him silent.
Arla's lungs burned with the taste of copper and ash.
She couldn't understand why the family she trusted could be so monstrous, or why they had to brutally murder an innocent child just for money.
The darkness swallowed her whole, drowning her in suffocating hatred and absolute despair.
Then, she gasped for air.
The concrete floor was gone, replaced by the silk sheets of a hotel penthouse suite.
Arla had been reborn to the exact night six years ago—the very day Blair first dragged her son into the dark attic.
This time, she picked up a solid silver letter opener, ready to burn them all to the ground.
9.7
I died with blood pooling and betrayal.
My fiancé never loved me-he only wanted. My stepsister never saw me as family. And when I discovered I was carrying his child and tried to expose their affair, they shoved me into a shattered glass table and left me to bleed out alone.
But I woke up a year earlier, with my voice miraculously returned and a second chance burning in my chest.
This time, I refuse to be the silent, obedient sacrifice they used and discarded. This time, I'll make them pay. And when a ruthless billionaire offers me an impossible deal-a fake marriage to save his crumbling empire, I accept without hesitation.
They still see me as that broken, voiceless girl who couldn't fight back.
They have no idea I've already won.