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 6
"See you later, Vixen." The stripper smirked and walked off.
"So, your name is Vixen?" I asked as the woman pulled me forward. My brain couldn't seem to function properly. I wasn't sure if I was confused or horny that the woman kissed another woman.
"It's my stage name." She winked.
"I'm Jason, by the way," I added as she stopped by the bar.
"Hey, honey. Can I get a lemonade, and Jason over here will have...?" Vixen asked the bartender and looked at me for an answer.
"A black label beer, please," I replied, and the bartender nodded.
"Do you like my club?"
"It's nice."
"Correction, it's fucking hot." She laughed and thanked the bartender as he placed our drinks in front of us.
"So, what's your real name?"
"Oh, sweety, you will have to work for that."
"Okay. Don't you drink?" I questioned and gestured towards her lemonade.
"Damn, you ask a lot of questions. But, yeah, I can't stand alcohol."
"But you own a club?"
"I get to watch half-naked women whenever I want. Who wouldn't want that?" Vixen laughed and grabbed my arm to pull me along as she walked off. I didn't mind that she pulled me around. Whenever she touched my arm, it felt like my skin heated up.
She led me towards a bunch of couches and pushed me down into the one nearest to the pole dancing platform. I put my beer down on the glass table next to me, and Vixen sat down on my lap. She leaned back against me and took a sip of her lemonade. Her neck was close to my lips, and the scent of coconut drifted from her skin.
"Do you have any more questions, Jason?" Vixen asked, and I loved the way she said my name. Her warm ass was pressed against my dick, which turned me on. I tried to not think about it as I didn't want to screw things up with her.
"How come I didn't hear the music from the storeroom or grocery store?" I questioned and tried to keep my mind focused. Vixen burst into a giggle and turned her head to the side to look at me. Our lips were a few centimetres apart, and it felt like I could almost taste them.
"The walls are soundproof. It wouldn't be much of a secret if everyone could hear the music." She shrugged and touched the side of my face. "You're actually quite handsome." She whispered and flickered her eyes down to look at my lips. Her gaze met mine as she looked back up into my eyes, and for a second, everything around us froze.
Vixen looked away and climbed off my lap to stand up.
"I need to sort out some business. Just wait here, okay?" She remarked, then walked off before I could say anything. I shifted my pants as my dick was semi-hard and took a sip of my beer.
The club was full of sexy women, but none were even close to Vixen's level. I watched a few women dance as a few hours passed. I wondered if she had stood me up but remained patient and stayed where she instructed. A stripper walked onto the stage in front of me and wiped down the pole. She winked my way, and I offered her a friendly smile.
The couches around the area where I was were empty as no one danced on the platform. The song changed, and Cho by Popalik featuring Stefflon Don started playing. I knew the song as I enjoyed listening to Stefflon's music. The lights shined down on the stage in front of me, and a sexy silver-haired woman walked up to the pole.
Vixen winked at me before she started dancing. She had changed into a simple black long-sleeved bodysuit. The tattoo on her hip could be seen, and as she turned around, her sexy ass cheeks were on display. She was barefoot while the other strippers had on heels. I liked how I was the only one by the couches because it made me feel like Vixen was dancing for me and me alone.
I watched as she gracefully climbed up the pole and seemed to slowly run while she spun in a circle. Her body moved in ways that were so mesmerising that I wouldn't dare look away. She looked extremely sexy and stared at me while her body moved against the pole. I had to shift the way I was sitting as my dick was hard from the sight of her.
Vixen dropped down and twerked her ass in front of my face, and went down onto the floor with her ass up in the air. She twirled and slid her legs apart while on her knees while her hand went to grip her neck. I felt a small groan leave my lips as I watched Vixen. She opened her eyes and slid her hand down her body. My eyes turned darker as I watched her, and I could feel my body passionately burning for her.
"Do you want me, Jason?" Vixen asked, and through the music, I could hear her clearly. Her hand went between her legs, and her hips moved as if she was grinding against the floor.
"Of course I do," I replied, and Vixen smirked. She moved to the edge and put one foot on my shoulder. Her hips moved forward, and I moved my hand up her leg.
"No, Jason. The first rule is that you can't touch the dancers." She devilishly smiled. I quickly moved my hand off her leg before one of the bouncers threw me out of the club. Vixen knew exactly how badly I wanted her as I could see that horny spark in her eyes.
"Let's see how long you can last." She remarked and climbed off of the stage and onto my lap.
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8.3
Ayleen Ramirez sat in the sterile Hope Hill Fertility Clinic, her heart shattering as Dr. Finch delivered the crushing news: her third IVF cycle had failed.
Eavesdropping outside a supply closet, she overheard her husband Don on the phone, laughing cruelly. "She's a defective incubator," he sneered to his mistress Alessandra. "I never used my sperm—just cheap bank donation. No trailer trash carries a Bradley heir."
Betrayed, Ayleen confronted him, but her adoptive family ambushed her at home. Her parents and brother sided with Alessandra, now pregnant by Don, demanding Ayleen sign divorce papers to secure family investments. "You're an embarrassment," her mother snapped, threatening to cut her trust fund. Ayleen tossed back their heirloom necklace and walked out.
She stormed the Bradley mansion, slapped divorce papers on Don, packed her bags amid his aunt's insults, and fled into the night.
Drunk in a trendy bar, she stumbled into a powerful stranger—Burdette Guerrero—spilling whiskey on his crotch, then accidentally grabbed a napkin to his trousers. He shoved her away in rage.
Worse, she mistook his penthouse suite for her hotel room, bursting in on his shower, smashing a mirror in panic. He pinned her to the wall, snarling accusations.
How did this arrogant man know her name? Why demand she sign a mysterious contract at 9 a.m.? Devastated and clueless she's actually pregnant—with his stolen heir—Ayleen sobbed alone, the world crumbling.
The next morning, she straightened her spine in the Grand Guerrero lobby, ready to face him and demand answers—no matter the cost.
8.0
Abigayle was the proud heir to the Pena Group, living a perfect life and engaged to Jeffery Sullivan.
But the morning after a charity gala, she woke up drugged in a hotel room, blinded by paparazzi cameras. Her fiancé and her best friend stood at the foot of the bed, throwing a forged pregnancy report at her face to publicly frame her for cheating.
The betrayal was only the beginning of the slaughter. Before she could even clear her name, the Sullivan family ruthlessly bankrupted her family's company overnight. Her father was rushed to the ICU with a heart attack, her brother was run off the road into a coma, and violent repo men raided her penthouse. Just as she was thrown out into the freezing rain, Jeffery's terrifying uncle, Donovan Sullivan—the very mastermind who engineered her family's ruin—stepped in. He offered to cover the life-saving medical bills, but only if she agreed to become his personal plaything.
Abigayle's blood turned to ice. She couldn't understand how the people she trusted most could plot such a vicious, coordinated destruction just to break an engagement. How dared the man who destroyed her entire family stand there playing the savior, trying to buy her body with her own stolen wealth?
Facing a $100,000 hospital deadline and abandoned by everyone she knew, she didn't shed another tear.
"I will never beg him."
Clutching her last diamond bracelet, she hailed a cab straight to the biggest pawnshop in the Diamond District. The Sullivans thought they had buried her, but her counterattack was just beginning.
8.7
Lina Carter was just a waitress trying to make ends meet. On the other hand, Alexander Knight was a billionaire who would do anything to safeguard his empire. When he proposes a deal for her to be his fake girlfriend, it seems straightforward, he act like she loves him, stick to the rules, and walk away with a nice payday. No feelings involved. No strings attached. No room for error.
But as they share fake kisses, those moments turn into lingering glances. What starts as cold, business-like orders shifts into a quiet sense of protection. Suddenly, the line between pretense and reality begins to blur.
Then, out of nowhere, his ex-fiancée reappears-gorgeous, ruthless, and hell-bent on ruining Lina's life. When the truth about their arrangement comes to light, Lina finds herself publicly humiliated, tossed aside as if she never mattered at all. She walks away with her pride shattered, but her heart still whole.
Now, the man who once paid her to pretend is realizing he wants her for real. But some betrayals cut too deep... and some love stories start with a lie that's just too painful to forgive. She was brought in to act. He ended up falling for her for real.
9.3
For three years, Evelyn Harper was the perfect invisible wife, brilliant architect who anonymously poured revolutionary designs into her cold CEO husband Alexander Knight's company, building his billion-dollar empire while being dismissed as useless by him and his family.
When he hands her divorce papers expecting tears, she signs with a calm smile and walks away taking back her genius.
What Alexander never knew: every award-winning project, every stock surge, every headline praising his vision was hers.
Now, as Elara Voss, Evelyn returns stronger than ever surrounded by powerful men who truly see her, winning landmark contracts, and watching rivals tremble at her name.
Alexander wakes to regret too late: his crumbling empire, the secret twins he never knew existed, the woman he lost.
He begs for forgiveness, offers everything to start over, even kneels publicly in humiliation.
But Evelyn demands justice: full credit, billions in royalties, and control.
As old enemies scheme violently out of jealousy and his world falls, Alexander fights to prove change, while Evelyn builds an untouchable new empire on her terms.
Co-parenting begins. Old sparks flicker. Forgiveness debates rage in her heart.
Will she allow slow reconciliation for their brilliant twins?
Or close the door forever on the man who once owned her world?
8.4
Elia was an orphan from the rust belt, taken in by the wealthy Chapman family in New York.
To them, she was just a shameful charity case.
The parents shoved her into a dusty storage closet, treating their other daughter Geri like a delicate princess, and mocked Elia as uneducated trash.
When Elia secured her own admission to Manhattan Elite Prep, Geri's jealousy turned vicious.
Geri orchestrated a massive smear campaign, posting anonymously on the school forum that Elia was a violent dropout who sold her body to a sugar daddy to pay tuition.
In the cafeteria, the school's elite dumped dirty milk on Elia's food.
They called her a whore and told her to go back to the streets, while Geri watched from afar with a victorious, innocent smile.
They thought she was just a helpless stray dog who would easily break under their high-society cruelty.
They had no idea she was actually "L", the dark web's most feared hacker, and "The Surgeon", a genius medical anomaly.
They also didn't know she was currently tracking a dying Wall Street billionaire who had stolen her only necklace in a dark alley.
What made these arrogant rich kids think they could destroy a girl who played with international firewalls for fun?
Instead of crying, Elia calmly pulled out her phone.
Within seconds, she breached the school's server, locking every screen in the building onto a blood-red skull.
As Geri's own recorded voice plotting the fake rumors blasted through the PA system, Elia grabbed her bag, stepping back into the shadows to reclaim what was hers.
8.7
The world was a symphony of agony, played on the strings of my own body. I was tied to a chair in a damp basement, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth as my fingernails were ripped from their beds by a pair of rusty pliers.
My best friend, Corrine, stepped into the flickering light wearing my favorite Chanel suit and the engagement ring that was supposed to be mine. Beside her, my fiancé Aldo held the pliers, his voice smooth and cultured as he demanded I sign over my entire inheritance to them.
As I struggled, a news report flashed on an old TV in the corner: Hunter Gallagher, the man I had treated like dirt but who had always tried to protect me, was dead in a horrific car explosion. Corrine laughed, whispering in my ear that they had lured him to his death using a fake kidnapping tip. He died trying to save me from a trap set by the people I trusted most.
They didn't just want my money; they wanted to erase me. They plunged a needle full of heroin into my neck, watching with cold, mocking eyes as my heart hammered against my ribs and finally seized into nothingness.
I died in that basement, a blind, spoiled girl who had let her true protector be murdered. As the darkness closed in, my soul burned with a single, silent vow: If I ever get another life, I will drag you both to hell with me.
Suddenly, I gasped for air, my lungs fighting against a weight that wasn't there. I wasn't in the basement; I was in my own bed, my fingernails intact and my skin unbroken. I checked my phone, and my heart stopped—it was May 20th, exactly one year before my death. Hunter was still alive, and this time, I wasn't the prey.