Loving him is a sin I can't escape
Five years ago, Elena Moretti walked away from Dominic Russo without explanation-leaving him to face the collapse of his father's empire alone.
Now Dominic is no longer the reckless man she once loved. He's a ruthless billionaire CEO with power, influence... and a memory that hasn't forgotten betrayal.
When he acquires the company Elena works for, he offers her a deal she can't refuse: work under him for six months-or watch her family's name be dragged through a financial scandal from the past.
Forced into close proximity, old wounds reopen and buried secrets threaten to surface. But the more time they spend together, the more dangerous the tension becomes.
Because hatred is easier than forgiveness.
And love?
Love is guilty as sin.
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Chapter 5
By the time Elena stepped out of Blackwood Tower, the news had already spread. Her phone wouldn't stop vibrating. Notifications. Messages. Unknown numbers. She didn't need to open them to know what they said. Russo Enterprises Announces Engagement. Dominic Russo Engaged to Former Flame. Market analysts speculate strategic move. Strategic. She almost laughed. A black car pulled up to the curb in front of her before she could call a cab.
The window rolled down. Dominic.
"Get in," he said calmly.
"You blindsided me," she replied, not moving.
"I protected you."
"By turning me into a headline?"
"Yes."
She hesitated. Then slid into the passenger seat. The door shut with a heavy click. The car moved. Silence filled the space between them.
"You could've warned me," she said finally.
"If I warned you, you would've panicked."
"I am panicking."
"No," he said evenly. "You're calculating."
She turned to him sharply.
"You think this is a game?"
His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.
"No. I think this is survival." The city lights of New York City flickered past the windows, reflecting in his dark eyes.
"The board already had a vote scheduled," he continued. "They were planning to force a merger."
"With Vivian's family," Elena guessed.
"Yes."
"And you think marrying me stops that?"
"Engagement," he corrected. "And yes."
"How?"
"Investors prefer stability. A public engagement suggests long-term planning. Continuity. Control."
She studied him.
"You're using me as leverage."
His jaw flexed.
"They're using you as weakness."
The words hit differently.
"What does that mean?"
Dominic glanced at her.
"They've already reopened the old audit."
Her stomach dropped.
"They can't."
"They can."
Cold spread through her veins.
"They think I still don't know what happened five years ago," he said quietly.
Her pulse spiked.
"And do you?" she asked carefully.
His gaze lingered on her just a second too long.
"Not yet."
The car slowed as it approached a red light.
"Elena," he said, voice lower now, "did my father threaten you?"
Her breath caught.
The light turned green.
He drove forward.
"You don't get to ask me that," she whispered.
"I get to ask whatever I want."
"You also get to listen," she shot back.
Silence. Heavy.
"You think I didn't question it?" he said after a moment. "The timing. The way you left. The way my father suddenly supported my takeover afterward."
Her chest tightened.
"But you chose to hate me instead," she said.
"I chose the version of the story that didn't make me look weak."
There it was. Honesty. Sharp and painful. They pulled into the underground garage of his penthouse building. The car stopped. But neither of them moved.
"You'll move in tonight," he said.
"What?"
"It's already public. You can't be seen leaving separately."
"That's insane."
"It's necessary."
She turned fully toward him.
"You don't get to control where I live."
"I do if I'm protecting you."
"Stop saying that like this is noble."
His patience thinned.
"You think I enjoy this?" he asked quietly. "You think I wanted to parade you in front of the world again?"
"Then why do it?"
He leaned closer. Close enough that she could see the faint scar along his jaw she didn't remember.
"Because if I don't control the narrative," he said softly, "they will."
Her heartbeat quickened.
"And when they control it..."
His eyes darkened.
"They destroy you first."
The weight of that settled in. Not just revenge.
Not just ego. War. And she was in the center of it. A car pulled into the garage behind them.
Dominic's expression hardened instantly. "Stay here," he said. "Dominic-" He was already out of the car. Elena watched through the windshield as another sleek black vehicle stopped a few feet away. Vivian stepped out. Of course. She didn't look surprised to see Dominic. She looked prepared. They spoke briefly. Too far for Elena to hear. But she saw Vivian hand him something.
An envelope. Dominic opened it. His posture changed immediately. Stiff. Controlled. Dangerous. He walked back toward Elena slowly. Her stomach twisted.
"What is it?" she asked when he opened her door. He didn't answer right away. Instead, he held out the envelope. Inside-photographs. Old ones. Five years old. Her and Dominic. Arguing outside his building. The night she left. And beneath them-bank transfer records. Her name highlighted. Amount circled. Her breath stopped.
"I never took that money," she whispered.
Dominic's voice was ice.
"I know."
Her head snapped up.
"You- what?"
"I never believed you sold me out for cash."
The ground shifted beneath her.
"Then why-"
"Because someone wanted it to look that way."
He took a slow breath.
"The board plans to leak this tomorrow."
Her hands trembled as she held the photos.
"They're going to make it look like I was paid to leave."
"Yes."
"And you just announced our engagement."
"Yes."
Realization hit her like lightning.
"They're going to accuse you of fraud."
His silence confirmed it.
Her heart pounded violently.
"This isn't just about us," she whispered.
"No."
"It's about control of your company."
"And they think you're my weakness."
She looked up at him.
"And are you?"
His eyes locked onto hers.
For a moment, the billionaire mask slipped.
"Don't ask questions you're not ready to hear the answer to."
Her pulse stuttered.
A slow, unsettling smile touched his lips.
"They just made their move," he said quietly.
"And now I make mine."
Her breath caught.
"What are you going to do?"
Dominic stepped closer.
Close enough that his shadow swallowed her.
"I'm going to give them exactly what they don't want."
"And what's that?"
His gaze burned into hers.
"A wedding date."
Her stomach dropped.
"That wasn't part of the contract."
"It is now."
The garage lights flickered slightly as thunder echoed above. And for the first time. Elena realized this wasn't a six-month illusion anymore. It was escalation. And Dominic had just raised the stakes.
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8.4
Hazel Dawson has a crazy past, she's called the wealthiest billionaire a crazy bastard to his face without knowing.
When the company she's working for suddenly gets sold to the youngest but ruthless businessman in the city- Xavier Steele- known for his crazy unpredictable ways, Hazel has no choice but to bear it and accept his overbearing requests as his secretary.
But one night, when Xavier gets wounded after saving Hazel from an armed gunman,Hazel learns that her Boss might not be all that he looks like on the surface.
In a two confined offices located at the top of the building separate from several workers, Roses bloom but thorns follow.
Just when love seems within reach, Hazel is accused of stealing confidential contracts. With whispers of betrayal, a haunting past, and a string of murders circling the company, Hazel must clear her name-and her heart.
Can Hazel prove that she did not steal the company's contracts for personal gain?
Will Xavier look past his nagging belief of the wealthy belong together and go back to his ex?
And with the increasing murders that keep getting tied to the company as the common denominator, what does this evil-doer hiding in the shadows aim to achieve?
7.4
Evelina Barrett was the legitimate daughter, yet she was framed for a disgusting sex scandal, expelled from the Ivy League, and locked out of her late mother's massive trust fund.
While she was thrown out to rot on the streets with a jagged, hideous red scar covering half her face, her father and step-family were throwing a lavish charity gala to celebrate her total ruin.
They laughed as they officially published her disownment notice in the Times to cut her off forever.
"Without the school halo, that ugly freak will be begging on the streets by tomorrow," her sister Aspen sneered.
Her stepmother Annabella toasted to taking out the trash, perfectly happy to steal Evelina's inheritance while ignoring the fact that Evelina knew exactly how they had murdered her mother.
For years, Evelina had been locked in a dark basement, abused by bodyguards, and treated worse than a stray dog.
Why should she, the true heir, suffer in the gutter while the leeches who destroyed her life enjoyed the wealth that rightfully belonged to her?
She refused to be their victim anymore.
Washing away her fake scar to reveal her true, breathtaking face, Evelina blackmailed New York's most lethal billionaire into marriage to secure the ultimate shield.
Then, she put on a black mourning dress, ordered a dark web ghost crew, and climbed into a heavy semi-truck.
At exactly 6:00 PM, she smashed through the iron gates of her family's elegant gala, delivering three pure black coffins directly to the lawn.
8.3
Three years into marriage, Rachael gave her all to Xander, even secretly using her newfound heiress fortune to save his struggling company.
But the truth shattered her—her marriage certificate was fake, and his "childhood friend" was his real wife all along.
When she confronted him, he shrugged her off with, "She's just a friend."
Enough was enough. Rachael went back to her real family, soared in her career, and married Xander's rival.
When Xander begged for another chance, her new husband pulled her close, flashing their marriage certificate.
"She's already married—to me."
7.0
For three years, Breanna gave up her brilliant career as a top-tier perfumer to be the perfect housewife for her billionaire husband, Hartwell.
But when he finally returned from a three-month business trip to Paris, he didn't even glance at the dinner she had carefully prepared. Instead, he threw a divorce agreement on the table.
He gave her thirty days to move out and offered a ridiculously low settlement. When she cried and asked if there was someone else, he looked at her with absolute disgust.
"You used to smell like ambition and possibility. Now you smell like cooking oil and the desperation of a woman who has nothing outside her husband. You're a trap."
He threatened to bury her in legal fees if she didn't sign. Heartbroken and confused, Breanna forced his assistant to reveal what really happened in Paris. The truth was humiliating. Hartwell had been spending all his time with a twenty-six-year-old genius perfumer—a girl who was the exact mirror image of who Breanna used to be before she sacrificed everything for him.
He didn't just want a new woman. He wanted a younger, untainted replacement of her past self.
Wiping away her tears, Breanna's grief instantly hardened into cold, calculated rage. She tore up his insulting settlement and prepared to fight back, completely unaware that her cruel husband was currently hiding in a hotel room, coughing up blood, deliberately playing the villain to force her to survive his impending death.
8.3
I spent three months in Zurich securing banking rights for my family's pack. I couldn't wait to give my five-year-old daughter, Lily, the rare Starlight Moonstone Beast I’d bought to soothe her shifting pains.
But before I landed, I saw a photo online: my husband's "distant nephew" was playing with that very toy in my living room.
I rushed to the Pack Academy, only to find a teacher raising a riding crop laced with wolfsbane against my child.
Instead of protecting us, my husband, Austyn, stepped out with a woman wearing my furs and my grandmother’s emerald necklace.
He told the gathered crowd I was a mental patient having a delusion.
He hugged his mistress and announced she was the true Luna, claiming our marriage was a mistake and publicly rejecting our bond.
For five years, I had suppressed my Supreme Alpha aura to let him feel powerful, funding his lifestyle and building his reputation.
In return, he brainwashed my pack, abused my daughter, and tried to cast me out as a beggar in my own queendom.
He thought he had won because he believed his own lies about my weakness.
But when his illegitimate son threw a rock that drew blood from my daughter’s face, my patience snapped.
I stopped suppressing my scent, and my eyes turned molten gold.
"This is not a dispute, Austyn. This is an execution."
7.4
My husband stood by the window of his Manhattan office, his silhouette cutting through the storm like a blade. He didn't even look at me as he tossed the divorce papers onto the desk, his voice a cold baritone. "Sign it," Isaiah commanded, "or your brother’s dialysis treatment ends today."
He believed the lie that I had pushed his pregnant mistress down a flight of stairs in a jealous rage. To save my dying brother, I signed the confession and accepted the role of a murderer, trading my freedom for a life of disgrace.
At the funeral, Isaiah forced me to crawl on my knees through the freezing mud to the grave while a mob of mourners spat on me and cursed my name. When I went to prison, his influence followed me into the showers, where inmates told me the King wanted me to "remember my crime" before they used rusty shears to hack off my finger.
Five years later, I was a ghost living in a damp basement with the son Isaiah never knew I had, hiding my mangled hand under a leather glove. When he eventually tracked us down, he didn't show mercy; he tore my son from my arms, calling me an unfit monster and swearing I would rot in a cage.
I couldn't understand how the man I once loved could look at my broken body and see only a criminal, never realizing that every scar I carried was a gift from his own hatred.
As he walked away with my child, I swallowed a bottle of pills to end the nightmare, leaving Isaiah to rip the glove from my hand and discover the mangled truth just as my eyes finally closed.