His Bed, Her Murderer
One rain-soaked night I fell into bed with the city’s most eligible billionaire. Turns out he’s also the monster I’ve been chasing for my front-page exposé. Now every time Griffin Harrington touches me I wonder if it’s foreplay… or if I’m next on his list. The worst part? I can’t stop going back.
Chapters
The rain hammered the pavement like it had a personal grudge. I hunched deeper into my leather jacket, boots splashing through puddles that reflected the city's neon in blurry streaks. My phone buzzed...
Read more →The café smelled like burnt espresso and wet wool. I pushed through the door, boots squeaking on the linoleum, and immediately regretted not going home first. My curls were a lost cause after the morn...
Read more →The penthouse door had barely clicked shut behind us when the tension snapped tight again. I stood there in the sleek living room, borrowed cocktail dress still damp at the hem from the rain outside....
Read more →The cab smelled like old vinyl and yesterday's takeout. I stared out at the highrises bleeding neon into the rain, my thumb working the Zippo open and shut. The metallic snick cut through the driver's...
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