Chapter 1 The Red-hair doll

~ IVANOV ~

I have never hated anyone the way I hate Isaac Kaene. That New York City boy who snatched my family's most prized land and sent me to jail is a thorn embedded in my side, and I've been nursing this venomous grudge for years.

I hate the very air he breathes. I hate the smug curve of his lips when he laughed victoriously in court.

Papa had planned to give me that land for my next birthday. A gift, a legacy, something to cement my place. But that son of a bitch waltzed in, twisted the law to his favor, sent me to jail and claimed it as if it were always his. Just because he fancies himself a genius lawyer.

Now he struts around like he's untouchable. Like the Rodriguez name is nothing but a whisper in the wind.

I chuckle in Spanish under my breath. Maybe Papa let it go-he had bigger battles to fight, the blood and chaos of running a mafia empire never ends-but I won't. I cannot.

My blood simmers with the heat of revenge for the five years of my life that he wasted.

I will take from him what he cherishes most. Every possession, every luxury, every fleeting comfort that makes him believe he is untouchable. I will shred him piece by piece, make him rue the day he ever crossed the Rodriguez family.

Everyone knows the Rodriguez name. We are ruthless, merciless, and feared across Mexico. But Isaac Kaene... that arrogant fool doesn't even know who he's dealing with.

I pour myself a slow sip of liquor, the sharp burn trailing down my throat, and fix my gaze on him from the rooftop. The rain-scented air clings to my skin, heavy and wet.

I can be anywhere I want. Anytime. Invisible, unstoppable.

For the past two weeks, Isaac has been my obsession. I shadow his every move, melting into the shadows wherever he goes. Some would call it stalking. I call it patience. Vigilance. The prelude to retribution.

And today... today I followed him to a high-end family function. He had no idea I was there, watching.

The party drones on with its predictable pomp-the clinking of champagne glasses, hollow laughter, and the absurd display of elite pretentiousness. Isaac looks sharp in a black tuxedo, his grin wide, a predator masquerading as a gentleman. He shakes hands with men I know are as corrupt as he is. Birds of a feather, circling each other.

I've tried digging into his family's company, hacking, prying for anything that could bring him down. But the bastard's fortress is flawless. Clean tails, spotless lies.

I won't relent. I can't.

Then she appears. Fiery red hair, blue eyes that glint like ice under sunlight. She walks up to him, and he kisses her. Right there, in front of everyone.

Hmmm. Interesting, I murmur to myself. She must mean something to him.

They clasp hands. Isaac whispers something and goes down on a knee, bringing out a ring box. The guests gasp. My eyes narrow.

He's proposing.

The son of a bitch is proposing.

I watch the redhead. Her hands trembling slightly, her blue eyes wide with a mixture of shock and uncertainty. The guests urge her to say yes.

Wait... Is she the betrothed I've heard whispers about?

Impossible. This is not the girl Isaac Keane has been sneaking around with. I've seen him in hotels, with a blonde. Turns out he doesn't just cheat in legal matters only ; he cheats in romance too.

Why propose to Druscilla if he has another woman? There must be a reason.

I know him. Isaac Kaene doesn't act without profit. This is no love story-it's a transaction, a calculated move.

A quick search on my phone confirms it. Her name is Druscilla Hayes. Her father's inheritance is tied to this marriage, a family agreement, a windfall that Isaac will benefit from immensely.

A smirk tugs at my lips. An idea begins to form.

I refocus on Druscilla. Her hands are clasped together, eyes darting like a trapped bird. She's weighing the decision. Her fingers tremble just slightly.

Finally, she stretches out her hand. Yes.

The room erupts. Applause, cheers, champagne flowing. Isaac's hands find her waist, his touch possessive, triumphant. And... my chest tightens.

What the hell? Since when do I care who he touches?

But I can't tear my eyes away. Her curves, her poise, her innocence - it's like nothing I've ever seen. I've seen women from every corner of the world. Beautiful, exotic, enticing. But this woman is a goddess standing right in front of me.

Isaac beams. He really thinks he's won. He hasn't. Not even close.

The wedding will not happen. I will make sure of it. Every plan, every scheme, every desire he's ever had - I will ruin them all.

And the most delicious thought of all? The red-haired doll, Druscilla... she will be mine.

---

DRUSCILLA

I stare at Isaac's face, frozen as the ring box appears in his hands. Surprise? Yes. Shock? A little. Anticipation? Maybe. But most of all, a quiet, uneasy knowledge. I always knew this day would come. Whether I wanted it or not, whether my heart agreed or not, our families had planned this long before I could ever make my choice.

Isaac has been my boyfriend since college. Sweet, polished, generous. Our parents share a bond, a friendship that cements our union. But my heart? It's thrumming against my ribcage in a rhythm I don't understand. Confused, not thrilled.

Our relationship is almost perfect. The understanding, the gifts, the peace. And yet, I feel like something is missing.

I crave something more. Not just this soft, predictable romance. I want heat. Something dangerous. Something that scorches, consumes, and shouldn't be mine, but I want it anyway.

"Say yes". My cousin whispers into my ear, nudging me gently.

I glance around. Mother's eyes shining with pride, my best friend's faint frown, guests eager and excited.

My palms turns clammy. My heart starts beating too fast.

God. What should I do?

I want to say yes. But something gnaws inside me, a voice whispering caution.

Is this what you really want? What you truly need?

But I push it down. Overthinking. Too much thinking.

Isaac's eyes, eager and wide, hold mine. My sweet, loving boyfriend. I can't break his heart. Not today.

Taking a deep breath, I stretch out my hand and said "yes."

His joy is immediate, radiant. He slides the ring onto my finger, and the world around me erupts in celebration. Glasses clink, voices cheer, flowers rustle in the hands of guests.

Congratulations fly at me from every direction. I smile. I laugh.

"Congratulations, baby girl!" Kaila, my cousin, teases, tickling my side.

"Thank you," I grin, brushing off her playful touch.

"Let me see your ring again." She lifts my hand to inspect the glittering diamond. "Such a beauty. Avery, come closer."

Avery steps forward, eyes settling on the stone. "Congratulations, bestie," she says softly, her smile tinged with sadness.

"Thanks," I touch her cheek lightly. "Why sad?"

She pouts. "I'm just sad you're leaving us behind in the single hood society."

I laugh aloud. "Rubbish! I'm getting married, not leaving my sisterhood."

She smiles, but I see the shadow behind it. Avery has been my rock since kindergarten, my partner-in-crime through every secret and adventure. I understand the weight behind her look. She sees more than I do sometimes.

The party swirls on around me, a blur of music, laughter, and celebration. And yet my heart remains restless. Something unspoken lingers beneath the surface.

Something I cannot yet name.

Entangled with the Wrong Man

Chapter 1

"Come on, let me take you somewhere safe for the night," he said, hand on my shoulder, steering me toward his car. A sleek red sports car, gleaming under the lights.

He opened the door for me, and I slid in like a lamb to the slaughter, no questions asked.

He settled behind the wheel, and the engine growled to life.

***

"So what were you doing in the club?" Ivan asked as he shut the door behind me. I leaned against the wall, eyes tracking every shift of his body.

"My bachelorette party," I replied, nerves jittering. First time in four years we'd been alone like this, door locked.

"Poor timing," he murmured, shrugging off his jacket, then peeling away his shirt.

My eyes nearly bugged out.

His chest...

God, those abs were carved perfection, slick with sweat, catching the light.

I should've looked away. But I couldn't tear my gaze off.

"What is it, pretty doll?" He smirked, following where my eyes lingered.

Heavens... he still called me that?

"Do you wanna touch?"

Uh... I swallowed hard. Blinked.

"No," I mumbled. "Yes. I mean, no."

Fuck. What was wrong with me? See my stepbrother shirtless after four years, and suddenly I can't string words together.

Get a grip, Druscilla.

"Interesting." His smile deepened, that wicked dimple popping in his cheek. His left eye, the amber one, seemed to glow brighter in the low light.

"Do not say no when you mean to say yes," he said, pushing up from his seat.

He walked toward me.

I shouldn't have come here. I knew it. But crashing with him for the night felt safer than whatever waited out there.

In a blink, he was right in front of me.

He tipped my chin up with one finger, scooping a smear of cake icing from my cheek.

He licked it off his finger and smiled. "So sweet."

He leaned in closer, tongue flicking out to trace my skin, lapping up the cake. "Delicious," his voice rumbled low.

I swallowed hard. Heart pounding like a drum.

When his lips brushed mine, I gasped. His kiss started gentle, a soft heat against my throat. My eyes drifted shut as his mouth trailed lower, savoring me like a long-denied craving. Each breath I drew melted into the space between us.

I kissed him back.

My hands hesitated at first, then rose to his bare chest. His skin burned warm, heartbeat thundering under my palms. He caught my wrists, held them there, like he needed me to feel it all, every fierce pulse, every held-back hunger.

He deepened the kiss, tongue exploring every inch of my mouth.

I felt my back lift off the wall. He hooked my legs around his waist, kiss unbroken, until he eased me down onto his king-sized bed.

"Should I stop?" he asked, pulling back just enough. I missed the warmth of his breath, his skin, instantly.

"No, don't stop. Please," I said, voice thick with a passion I'd never known.

Ivan's touch had stirred something deep inside me.

I leaned up, captured his lips again. This time fiercer, hotter. And I matched him, kiss for kiss.

I felt his bulge pressing against my belly.

This was wrong. I knew it. But my body didn't give a damn.

My panties were soaked beneath me.

I shifted my hips, grinding up against him.

I ached to be touched down there.

Like he'd read my thoughts, he rubbed my mound through my dress. I writhed under him, instant fire.

I wanted more. The dress was in the way, blocking too much.

I wanted him inside me.

Maybe it was the booze from the club... but no, it wasn't. I wanted this. Badly.

Just for tonight.

I felt Ivan's hand slide under my skirt, fingers hooking my black lace panties, tugging them down my legs.

He tucked the lace into his pocket and stared at my wet folds like a starving man.

"Touch me, please," I said, eyes hazy with pleasure.

He stared at me and closed my legs. "I can't. I don't touch things that already belong to someone else."