Billionaire – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Billionaire – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Thu, 10 Sep 2026 18:28:09 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.1 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Billionaire – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Julian (New York Vipers #2) Read Online Sawyer Bennett http://www.books2020.com/julian-new-york-vipers-2-read-online-sawyer-bennett Thu, 10 Sep 2026 18:28:09 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/julian-new-york-vipers-2-read-online-sawyer-bennett Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Sawyer Bennett Series: New York Vipers Series by Sawyer Bennett
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)

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Julian Langley has everything a man could ever want—a sprawling Manhattan townhouse, a multi-billion-dollar portfolio, and ownership of the New York Vipers, one of the most coveted franchises in professional hockey. What he doesn't have, and will never allow himself, is anyone who matters too much. Carrying a devastating loss that completely reshaped him, Julian has since built his life around the certainty that nothing will ever cost him that dearly again.

Harper Hawthorne isn't looking for a billionaire. She's looking for a way to keep the lights on. Single-handedly holding her world together since she was a teenager, Harper works two jobs, lives in a rent-controlled apartment on the Lower East Side, and sacrifices everything for her younger brother. When an unexpected phone call lands her a chauffeur job behind the wheel of Julian’s car, she takes it for exactly what it a paycheck.

Julian notices everything about her. Harper tries not to notice anything about him. What begins as a professional arrangement starts to crack at the edges when Harper proves, repeatedly and effortlessly, that she’s unlike anyone Julian has ever encountered before. She’s too sharp to ignore, too genuine to keep at arm's length, and entirely unimpressed by his world in a way that makes it impossible for him to stop thinking about her.

Julian doesn't do commitment. Harper doesn't believe in fairy tales. But some collisions are inevitable and some people are worth every risk you swore you'd never take again.

Julian is a slow-burn hockey romance about a guarded billionaire, the woman who got under his skin without trying, and the long road back to trusting that a second shot at love is always worth the leap

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Julian

The front door closes behind Grizz with a loud click that echoes through the foyer and settles deep in the old but sturdy bones of my townhouse. I remain exactly where I am, my hand still resting against the cool brass knob, as though I can feel the last trace of his urgency through the metal.

He didn’t second-guess himself at the threshold. He left with a purpose that doesn’t need to announce itself. He had a focus in his expression I haven’t seen before.

He’s going after her.

The realization doesn’t surprise me. What surprises me is the way I admire him for it.

I found him wandering the streets of Manhattan a few hours ago with the particular aimlessness of a man who had lost an important piece of himself. I recognized it immediately because I’ve often felt aimless myself, and I did what any reasonable employer would do. I invited him to my home for Thanksgiving dinner.

It didn’t take long to figure out what had happened. Grizz McAvoy is the best player on my New York Vipers hockey team. His talent is unimaginable, but he was a wild card in all ways when we made the offer. He’s the man opposing teams build defensive schemes around, a force of nature on the ice. He’s also unpredictable, brash and pigheaded at times, landing himself in hot water with the league and the front office on more occasions than I’d like to count. But he seems to have gotten that under control, and I think that’s a direct result of Daisy’s impact on his life.

He’s a man who has genuinely—if not recklessly—fallen in love with a woman.

And he was wandering around like a lost puppy because he let his fear convince him that walking away from her was the wiser choice.

Grizz has always known how to pursue what he wants on the ice. He attacks a puck battle as a personal affront, shoulders lowered, momentum unquestioned. But this is different. This isn’t about a contract clause or playoff positioning or proving himself to a coach. This is about a person he loves. About rearranging his life around someone who has somehow managed to matter more than his fear of putting his heart on the line.

And that is rare.

I step back from the door slowly, letting the foyer reclaim its stillness. Thanksgiving Day light filters faintly through the tall windows along the staircase, turning the air a muted gold. The house seems larger in his absence.

I find myself smiling. He’s found someone worth chasing.

That simple truth stirs emotions in me that I don’t immediately welcome. It’s not jealousy, exactly. It’s more complicated— recognition of something I once knew intimately but have no desire to ever experience again.

“Sir.”

Percy’s tone is smooth and unhurried, as though he’s been standing there for precisely the number of seconds required to interrupt my thoughts at their most inconvenient depth.

I turn to find him positioned just beyond the archway, his posture immaculate, his dark suit pressed as always. His silver hair is combed back flawlessly, and his expression—respectful yet faintly admonishing—suggests he’s well aware that I have drifted into unproductive introspection.

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Advertisement Sky’s Edge (The Four Realms #2) Read Online Kristen Ashley http://www.books2020.com/skys-edge-the-four-realms-2-read-online-kristen-ashley Thu, 10 Sep 2026 18:27:49 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/skys-edge-the-four-realms-2-read-online-kristen-ashley Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal Authors: Kristen Ashley Series: The Four Realms Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 165618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 828(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)

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Peace has been shattered in the Four Realms…

But Catla Truelock has bigger concerns.

Her father’s done what he’d been threatening to do. He’s arranged her marriage to a man not of Catla’s choice.

It’s the demon way, but Catla knows her new betrothed, and she doesn’t like him. He’s aloof. He’s arrogant. And he’s both in spades.

Tanyn, the new king of Sky’s Edge, feels differently about the half-demon beauty from Night’s Fall. He’s made his decision on who he wants to be his queen.

She’s perfect.

He simply has to convince her.

Tanyn sets about doing that, but he’s interrupted when his fiancée receives a death threat.

It’s then all the royals of the Four Realms understand that the danger is not over. For reasons unknown, there’s a sinister faction in their lands who’s targeting them, and the women who will rule at their sides.

Now, Tanyn has to keep his Catla safe, at the same time convincing her to wear his crown.

And Catla has to decide if she can leave everything she knows to be the bride of the handsome king in a land that is not her own

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

CURSE

Tanyn

Three Days after the Midnight Masque in Night’s Fall…

King Tanyn alighted from the craft.

He heard the hiss of the door closing behind him, but he paid no mind to it.

His mind was on the ice steps in front of him.

He allowed those steps to lead his gaze and his attention up to the castle that rose high above him, a riot of snowy turrets with golden warmth flooding from lit windows.

The whole thing was a fancy, a folly, a magician’s trick.

And a not-so-inside joke.

But underneath, it was a witch’s curse.

Berg Castle, the royal residence of the monarchs of Sky’s Edge for the last six hundred years, was coated in snow.

This, while the inhabitants of that realm, if lore could be believed (and Tanyn knew it could), were delivered direct from the pits of the fiery levels of the hells.

It had not been built to resemble the fairytale castle it appeared to be now.

It had been built to convey power. To intimidate.

Pain, betrayal and loss were what caused it to be packed with snow.

Tanyn ascended steps he had not ever taken in his life, for he’d been born to sit on the throne but was banished from that castle when he was barely able to walk.

He stood at the top landing in front of golden doors that shone so brightly, not only from their color, but also from the eternal gilded fire blazing from the large lantern that hung above him.

He turned and stared at the lights spread before him, demarcating the capital city of Sky’s Edge, Abyssinia.

His city.

His realm.

His.

He turned back to the doors.

For this, his first visit since he was a year old, he had dismissed all the staff who worked there.

It was his first visit as king.

Therefore, he had to push through the doors himself.

He did not wander the chambers.

He did not marvel at the centuries-old magic that had created the snow walls and ice marble floors, ice crystal chandeliers and frost-edged windows.

He did what he promised his mother he would do when this day arrived.

He descended three levels under the castle.

He went to the dungeons.

Once there, he took the skeleton key he’d demanded, and received, and used it on the antique lock to an area of the castle he’d been told hadn’t been used in four hundred years.

He threw open the old wooden door fortified by iron and instantly recoiled.

Centuries of torment, misery, torture and lost hope had a feel that endured time.

It also, he just discovered, had a smell.

He allowed himself to adjust to it, and after he entered, instead of voicing his command, he turned to the bank of switches at his side which had been installed when electricity had been harnessed for a variety of uses.

Tanyn hit the switches.

The space illuminated.

He’d been told, due to the fact it had not been in use for a very long time, this area had not been updated at all since the early 1900s, and the meagre light fixtures proved it.

He moved through the shadowy first room, which could be considered a form of reception area, though not a welcoming one, if the chains affixed to walls, walls not made of glinting snow but of glittering black stone, told the tale.

Next up was a sort of lounge, with rickety tables and chairs left to disintegrate, plus an old iron stove that had provided warmth back in the day for the guards.

It wasn’t providing warmth now, and this area was certainly not included in the temperate seventy-three degrees that the rest of the castle rested at, regardless of its wintry walls.

More magic.

But no magic down there. It was as cold as the Borea Sea.

He moved through the guards’ lounge, down the long hall made of stone punctuated by wood doors, also fortified by iron, that had small, barred windows to look through to see the prisoners and slit doors at the bottom to shove food inside the cells.

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Advertisement Tell Me It’s Forever (Seattle’s Most Eligible #4) Read Online Tory Baker http://www.books2020.com/tell-me-its-forever-seattles-most-eligible-4-read-online-tory-baker Thu, 10 Sep 2026 18:27:41 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/tell-me-its-forever-seattles-most-eligible-4-read-online-tory-baker Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Novella Authors: Tory Baker Series: Seattle's Most Eligible Series by Tory Baker
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Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 26892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)

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I’ve never been the kind of man who loses control.
I’ve built my empire on knowing when to take risks—and when to walk away.
Until I raise my paddle at a charity auction and win a date with Genevieve.
Gennie is picking up the pieces after being made to feel like she wasn’t enough. But I see what no one else does.
The beauty.
The strength.
The woman she truly is.
One date turns into something I never expected. Something I can’t walk away from.
There’s just one problem…I’m not supposed to want her.
She’s my son’s ex-girlfriend.
And I’ve never wanted anything more

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

prologue

GAVIN

A Few Days Earlier

The air inside the grand ballroom at The Whitmore is thick with the cloying scent of expensive perfume, alcohol, and desperate social climbing. Crystal chandeliers hang low from the ceiling, swags of fabric line the walls, and the floral arrangements are on the verge of ostentatious. Millions of dollars are floating around the room in the form of designer clothing, expensive diamonds, and whoever can outbid the other.

I’d be concerned about this being a guise for childhood cancer research, except I’ve worked with the family who holds this event. It’s rooted deeply in them to help others when their own child couldn’t be helped. They’re good people, and it’s a good cause, even if the event costs a ten grand, not including your bids during the auction.

I lean against the high-top table near the back of the room, adjusting my cufflinks in my Tom Ford tuxedo. I already wrote a check for half a million dollars before I even stepped through the doors tonight. I don’t need to be here. In fact, I hate these events—the fake smiles, the surface-level conversations, the endless parade of people trying to talk business.

Yet here I fucking am.

In my left hand, I hold a lowball crystal-cut glass filled with two fingers of Macallan 25, the amber liquid swirling lazily against the ice. In my right hand, I loosely grip an auction paddle with the number 15 in bold black color.

“You look like you’re about to execute someone, Gavin,” Nolan mutters, coming up beside me, a drink of his own in his hand. His eyes scan the crowd with practiced detachment of a man who deals in high-stakes corporate takeovers for a living. I would know considering we’re one and the same.

“I’d rather be executing a deal,” I grunt, taking a slow sip. The smooth burn of the alcohol hits the back of my throat. “Or sleeping.”

“Relax. It’s for the kids. Plus, my wife promised me if I stayed until the live auction, I’d be well rewarded,” Vik chimes in from the other side, crossing his arms over his chest barely contained by his massive size.

“And that’s a conversation I don’t want to hear about,” Nolan mumbles, tossing back the rest of his drink.

“You’ll get it. One day.” Vik is completely unbothered. “And right now, she’s helping direct the production on the stage.”

My eyes drift toward the elevated velvet-draped stage at the front of the ballroom. The first event the charity is running is an auction with a date for which men and women volunteer, a meeting of sorts type of package to raise funds. It’s frivolous, absurd, and entirely not for me. I have zero intention of participating. I’m just waiting for the main event to wrap up so I can take my private car back to my place and lose myself in work.

“Next up, ladies and gentlemen, we have package number seven!” The emcee’s voice booms over the speakers. Around us, people applaud, and I nearly scoff. Jesus, I’m a bear tonight. “Featuring a date with one of our very own volunteers.”

The curtains part, and she steps out on the raised polished wooden dais. The temperature in the room seems to drop by ten degrees, or maybe all the air is suddenly vacuumed out of my lungs. There stands a woman in a floor-length emerald-green silk gown that clings to every single curve of her body like a secret. The deep jewel tone makes her honey-bronzed skin practically glow beneath the stage lights. Her neckline dips tantalizingly low, revealing the elegant slope of her collarbones and the swells of her breasts. The damn dress has a thigh-high slit on the left side, teasing the length of a smooth, curvy thigh every time she takes a small, hesitant step forward. Her chestnut curls are swept up, leaving the long, delicate line of her neck completely exposed.

She looks breathless. Nervous. Stunning in every way possible.

“Ah,” Vik says, his tone shifting, noticing my intrigue. “That’s Gennie. Sweet girl. Busts her ass for this foundation. She worked for hours setting up the décor along with working at Sterling Capital.

“She works on another floor, not for him,” Nolan adds, his voice low, masculine, and approving as his eyes trace the line of her dress. “Focused. Doesn’t play the socialite games. Good girl.”

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Advertisement Break Me (Knighton Equestrian #1) Read Online Tillie Cole http://www.books2020.com/break-me-knighton-equestrian-1-read-online-tillie-cole Sun, 16 Aug 2026 18:17:07 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/break-me-knighton-equestrian-1-read-online-tillie-cole Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Tillie Cole Series: Knighton Equestrian Series by Tillie Cole
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)

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The sexy, scandalous and heart-stopping romance from global sensation and multi-million copy bestseller, Tillie Cole . . .

--------------------

Born and raised a Texas cowgirl, Hallie Oakley is the most skilled showjumper on Team USA. She has just one goal in mind - Olympic gold. To achieve this, she must train with the most prestigious facility in the world, Golden Oaks in the Cotsworlds.

There she meets Chester Knighton, the oldest son in a showjumping dynasty, who has recently inherited Golden Oaks.

Their attraction is instant and mutal but when something devasting happens, it threatens to tear both Golden Oaks and Hallie apart.

Something Chester will not allow to happen

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

Hallie

Age 12

Ocala, Florida

The humidity felt different here in Florida. It stuck to my skin like glue, wrapping its wet hands around each strand of my long dark hair, making it curl into ringlets around my face.

My heart fluttered as fast as a hummingbird’s wings as I gaped at the humongous equestrian center spread out before me. I knew horses. I’d been raised in the saddle with reins in my hand. I knew how to ride and rope cattle from a mustang’s back. I knew how to navigate rough pastures and herd cows into pens with perfect precision. But as a large bay mare passed by me, coat glistening, mane brushed out, hooves oiled and free of dust and mud from a hard day’s ride, I may well have been as unfamiliar with these animals as I was with the country clubs and fancy houses I’d seen on the ride from the airport.

The main door in a huge white barn to my left opened, and a woman around my daddy’s age came walking out. She looked as pristine as the bay mare that had just passed us by. Her bright-red hair was swept off her freckled face and tied in a bun at the back of her scalp. She wore cream breeches, a polo shirt to match, and polished tall black riding boots. As if feeling my stare, she lifted her head and saw me standing beside the social worker who had brought me here. Her face was as beautiful and put together as her clothes.

And she looked just like Daddy.

A lump sprouted in my throat as she approached, and her hazel eyes glistened with tears as she tracked her wide gaze over me. I glanced down at my well-worn cowboy boots, Wranglers, and favorite pink, long-sleeve button-up. My trusty Stetson was on my head—I had my daddy’s packed in a protective box in my luggage.

“Hallie,” the lady rasped, throat hoarse, and a tear fell from her eye. Her hands were shaking as she quickly wiped it away. She moved until she was just before me. She smelled like rose petals. Her cheeks matched their red shade too. She crouched until she was eye level with me. Without thinking, I reached out and touched her face. I felt my bottom lip tremble.

“You look just like my daddy,” I said. My chest felt tight. I was trying real hard not to cry. I’d cried a ton over the past few days. Ever since my daddy . . .

I sniffed and wiped away a few extra tears.

“You look like him too,” the lady said softly.

Aunt Jeanie, I reminded myself. Her name is Aunt Jeanie. She was my daddy’s younger sister. Daddy never spoke of her much. The only thing he’d ever said was that he’d been real sorry he’d stopped speaking to her when she decided to leave the family ranch before I was born. Said he hadn’t understood her choice to move away at the time. And that breaking all ties with her was the biggest mistake of his life.

One he never got to make right.

“You can cry, darlin’,” she said, her accent sounding a little like mine.

“Cowgirls don’t cry,” I said, echoing what Daddy and the cowboys back at the ranch used to tell me if I was hurt or upset.

A flash of what looked like sadness took over her face, like she’d heard that saying before too. “Do you know who I am?” she asked.

“Aunt Jeanie,” I said, and pointed at Sally, the social worker. She’d explained where I was going. Aunt Jeanie stood up and shook Sally’s hand. They began to talk about me, but movement from my right caught my eye, pulling me away from the conversation. In an outdoor arena across the yard, someone was cantering on a horse—a large gray horse that must have been at least seventeen hands high and then some. The horse was beautiful, all platinum glossy mane, its body thick with muscle.

Before I knew it, my feet began moving, and the next thing I knew, I was watching the rider and horse through the slats in the pretty white fence. Watching as the man steered the horse over huge, brightly colored jumps. My pulse raced and my breath held as, with each one, they seemed to take flight.

I wondered what that would feel like, to ride on horseback over those huge fences.

I watched, transfixed, as the man jumped all the fences, not touching a single pole. He patted the horse’s neck as he brought the horse to a slow and steady trot. The man unclipped the chin strap of his fancy helmet and placed it in his lap, tipping his head back toward the sun. His dark hair was sweaty, one thick strand falling over his forehead. It still looked perfect.

Before I knew it, he’d moved closer to where I stood.

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Advertisement Cord (Cuddle a Cowboy #2) Read Online Mia Brody http://www.books2020.com/cord-cuddle-a-cowboy-2-read-online-mia-brody Sun, 16 Aug 2026 18:16:30 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/cord-cuddle-a-cowboy-2-read-online-mia-brody Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Insta-Love Authors: Mia Brody Series: Cuddle a Cowboy Series by Mia Brody
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Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >39

I did a very crazy thing for a very logical reason.

Mira

My cheating groom thinks I don’t know he’s only marrying me for my fortune. But I’m going to publicly humiliate him, and it’s all thanks to the Cuddle a Cowboy auction.

See, I rented a hot cowboy for seventy-two hours. He’s supposed to object to my wedding because he’s madly in love with me. Everything is going according to plan until he takes my groom’s place.

Suddenly, I’m married to the hottest cowboy I’ve ever met. But that’s not the wildest part. No, that was in the hotel room when we drunkenly slept together.

I guess I should tell the crazy cowboy we’re legally married now.

Cord

It was supposed to be simple. Object to the bride’s vows, claim to be in love with her then…take the groom’s place and marry her. Actually, scratch that. The last part wasn’t supposed to happen at all.

Now, she’s trying to slip away quietly and take the honeymoon solo, but this cowboy isn’t letting that happen. Nope, this is our honeymoon. And I’m going to spend it convincing my new wife to fall as madly in love with me as I am with her.

If you love a determined cowboy who will do anything to make his curvy woman smile, then climb onto Cord’s horse. It’s going to be a wild ride, but you’ll ache in the best way.

This is a steamy cowboy romance with plenty of on-page spice between a lonely cowboy and his curvy woman set in the welcoming, small town of Courage County. If that sounds like your kind of story, click to read now

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Mira

“Chicken nuggets for everyone! My treat!” I announce as I nudge my best friend, Ronnie, and point to the local fast-food restaurant.

She sends me a tight smile as her twins Brock and Branson high five in the backseat. They’re five, and they don’t realize their mom lost her job. I’ve offered her a position at my company twice now, but she’s too stubborn to take it. She insists she’ll hear something good any day now.

We place our order then park in the lot next to the restaurant. It’s an old, faded hardware store. The kind of mom-and-pop place that slowly dies because the big businesses around it can offer more competitive pricing and a larger selection of products.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of the kids happily munching their food in the backseat while Ronnie squints at her cracked phone screen. “The final alterations to your dress were finished, and the flowers are still scheduled to arrive on time.”

“You make a great wedding planner,” I tell her, trying not to think of my upcoming nuptials. I dunk a chicken nugget in my honey mustard, careful to avoid dripping on her car interior. She wouldn’t notice or care. She only cares about the boys since the day her husband abandoned her, leaving her to raise the twins on her own. The woman has a spine of steel, and if I ever see her ex-husband in our city again, I will break his face for breaking her heart.

She chuckles, but there’s no mirth to the sound. “Maybe if the j-o-b hunt doesn’t work out, I’ll do that. Did I tell you I applied for one on a f-a-r-m?”

The boys are obsessed with horses, so there’s no way she’s getting them excited about it until she knows for sure. Everything is about them now, and she’s never once complained. She’s carried on in that unflappable way that’s completely Ronnie. Still, I don’t want her thinking about the job search. She’s under enough pressure. “Have you given any more thought to what I asked?”

“What I want for my birthday?” She glances toward the back seat to see if they’re listening. They’re busy arguing over who gets the green toy. It’s their favorite color, and there’s only one green toy. “I want something fun to ride. Like really rugged and tough. You know, something to make me tingly.”

“Or someone,” I point out with a giggle.

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t have time for someone. Besides, marital bliss is not in the cards for me like it is for you.”

I shrug and toss my trash into the paper bag at my feet, my diamond engagement ring glinting in the late afternoon light. My stomach twists at the sight. I can’t deny that lately something has felt “off” between me and Stuart. It’s not something I can put my finger on. Just a general sense of apprehension. Maybe it’s anxiety like my therapist suggested. “I can’t believe I’ll be Mrs. Stuart Dean by this time next week.”

“And drinking something fruity in Kauai by the hotel pool,” she says.

I open my mouth to ask her if she ever had doubts before her wedding.

“It’s mine, stinkyhead!” Branson yells, and it’s clear we’re only seconds from an all-out brawl in the backseat.

Ronnie calls both of their names in what she’s termed her “strict parent” voice, and they pause long enough to pay attention to her. “If you boys want us to get the lumber to fix the broken step on the treehouse ladder, then I expect you to behave.”

Brock tries to object, but Ronnie sends him a look, and the four of us go into the hardware store in search of the wood needed for the treehouse. Ronnie built it herself last summer with the boys. There’s nothing she can’t do when she sets her mind to it.

I follow the three of them through the store while Ronnie clutches her list and talks to herself under her breath about the repairs her place needs. They’ve already turned down another aisle when my phone dings.

I pull it from my purse, frowning when I see it’s not a text message from my dad. I half expected him to text me about that new legal contract I reviewed yesterday. Another brand wants to partner with us, and they put some sneaky language into the contract that could negatively impact us.

Together, my dad and I run a company called Molly and Milo, a nod to my own Jack Russell Terriers who inspired me to create a blend of dog food that’s healthy and satisfying for dogs. Three years ago, the brand went viral and now the company is growing like crazy.

The notification isn’t from my dad though, and it’s not a message from Stuart either. No, this is a notification that the camera in my bedroom has been turned on by the motion sensor.

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Advertisement Falling for My Sister’s Heartkeeper Read Online Marian Tee http://www.books2020.com/falling-for-my-sisters-heartkeeper-read-online-marian-tee Sun, 16 Aug 2026 18:15:45 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/falling-for-my-sisters-heartkeeper-read-online-marian-tee Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Authors: Marian Tee Advertisement

Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >30

She has his dead sister’s heart. And that makes her entirely forbidden.

A stranger died, and Jassy was given a second chance at life. Now she’s finally chasing her dream of becoming an actress…and falling hopelessly in love with the mysterious billionaire who saved her life. The only problem? He keeps pushing her away.
Maximo’s rigid routine shatters the moment Jassy moves under his roof. He wants her more than he’ll ever admit. So he does the only thing he knows how to do. He keeps hurting the woman he can’t stop wanting.

A billionaire age-gap romance featuring slow burn, forced proximity, protective alpha heroes, laugh-out-loud banter, and a heroine who wears her heart on her sleeve

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

THERE'S A RIGHT WAY to end a fourteen-hour double, and I'm currently living the other one.

The right way has a bus in it. A couch. And the sad triumphant half of a sandwich I've been thinking about since noon.

The wrong way has two men in it, an alley, and the dawning understanding that the twenty dollars in my pocket is about to become their twenty dollars.

"Hand it over, sweetheart."

A smart girl would know how to pick her battles, but since this smart girl (meaning me, duh) is also broke...

"So, here's the thing—" My shoulder blades find brick. "I'd genuinely love to. But this twenty and I've just been through a lot together, emotionally—"

"Now."

A smarter girl would start screaming here. Then again, a smarter girl wouldn't have taken the wrong way in the first place. She would have known that the shortcut behind the noodle place turns into a shortcut to death after dark. But...whatever.

I can't turn back time, but I can scream.

And so I open my mouth...and only get exactly one syllable out.

Aaaah!

And then one of them is just...gone.

Not gone-gone.

Gone as in a hand closes over the back of his jacket and lifts him out of my personal space the way you'd pick a stray hair off a sweater. The second guy lasts a little longer. But not much.

When it's over, there's a man standing between me and the street, and he's not even out of breath. Whoa.

Two grown men, gone, and my rescuer hasn't even fixed his cuffs, and he's...um...how do I put this?

It's not my first time to see a handsome guy, but this man...is unlike anyone I've seen. He's tall and broad, his suit fits him better than anything has a right to, and his face is the kind that makes me forget that I was almost robbed—

"You're hurt."

—until he says that.

I'm hurt. Or so he says. I should probably focus on that, but my brain isn't working at the moment, with his voice going straight to the backs of my knees, low and even and expensive, the kind of voice that's never once had to ask for anything twice and knows it.

And here's the truly unfair part. It isn't just the face, or the shoulders, or the suit. What makes my heart beat dangerously fast is his calmness. It's not Zen-like, but more like mafia-boss-cool, and no, I'm not in favor of syndicated crime, but you get what I'm saying, right? Right?

So anyway, this rescuer of mine...

He's that kind of cool, with how he took two men apart without mussing his hair, and now he's watching me like violence is something he keeps in a drawer and only takes out when it would be rude not to.

I have met exactly zero men who could do that, and maybe that's why my borrowed heart chooses this exact moment to remind me it's in there.

Slow down, heart!

I need to calm down. It's not good for me to be excited like this. I need a distraction like...oh, right, he did say I was hurt earlier, didn't he?

I check my elbow, and...oh. I see it now. A scrape. But honestly? I've had worse from a spatula.

"I'm fine," I tell him. "This is nothing. You should see the other twenty." I'm not expecting him to laugh at anything, but he doesn't even crack a smile, and his too-handsome face remains stoic. He really should lighten up. Instead of looking at me like I'm a math problem he didn't agree to solve, he should...

"Have dinner with me."

The words are out before I even realize what I'm saying, but there's thankfully no need to blush since all he does is stare at me like he doesn't speak English.

"As a thank you," I say quickly.

He's still silent, so now I'm thinking he's terribly overwhelmed by my generosity.

"Because you saved my life," I add, just in case he needs clarification. "That's basically a documented obligation. You save me. I have to feed you. It's in the—" I wave a hand. "It's in the rules."

"And whose rules would that be?" One dark brow climbs a fraction, the most expression he's spent since he strolled in and rearranged my whole evening.

"Mine, of course, so there's no sense in arguing—" I'm already walking as I say this, not wanting to give him a chance to refuse. It's a strategy that's worked for me eight times out of a possible nine hundred, but that doesn't mean I have to give up. In my book, I just need to keep trying, and so that's what I'm doing here.

"Come on, office boy. My treat."

I'm trying to be his friend, that's all.

"I know a place with the kind of dumplings that fix things."

The words come out breezy even as my chest tightens in sudden panic because...what if he doesn't follow?

What do I do then?

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Advertisement Gravehouse (Cursed Lovers Duet #2) Read Online Amo Jones http://www.books2020.com/gravehouse-cursed-lovers-duet-2-read-online-amo-jones Sun, 16 Aug 2026 18:15:34 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/gravehouse-cursed-lovers-duet-2-read-online-amo-jones Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Billionaire, Dark, Suspense Authors: Amo Jones Series: Cursed Lovers Duet Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >102

She has his dead sister’s heart. And that makes her entirely forbidden.

A stranger died, and Jassy was given a second chance at life. Now she’s finally chasing her dream of becoming an actress…and falling hopelessly in love with the mysterious billionaire who saved her life. The only problem? He keeps pushing her away.
Maximo’s rigid routine shatters the moment Jassy moves under his roof. He wants her more than he’ll ever admit. So he does the only thing he knows how to do. He keeps hurting the woman he can’t stop wanting.

A billionaire age-gap romance featuring slow burn, forced proximity, protective alpha heroes, laugh-out-loud banter, and a heroine who wears her heart on her sleeve

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

Thud.

His head rolled under the grand piano.

Le Boucher Sans Loi watched blood spread across the marble and gather around his boots before it ran on toward the dead man’s severed hand.

The study had been arranged to announce power to anyone who got past the walnut doors. Shelves climbed two stories. Leather chairs faced the fireplace at careful angles. A crystal decanter waited beside two glasses, set out for the civilized conversation rich men preferred before arranging another person’s death.

One chair had overturned during the struggle. The dead man’s torso lay against it, shoulders wrenched back until it gave.

Le Boucher drew a cigar from inside his coat. His gloves left a dark smear across the wrapper. He inspected the damage, clipped the cap, and struck a match against the underside of the desk.

The flame caught, and smoke filled his mouth, bitter and warm, before he pushed it out through his nose. Beneath the tobacco sat the dense metal odor of fresh blood, opened bowels, and fear.

Death had a scent long before decay claimed it. Blood was a word that was easy to digest, but Blood was only the beginning.

No one would find this rot. He planned to leave it here until the ground took it back.

He lowered the match into one of the crystal glasses, killing the flame in the remaining whiskey.

The head beneath the piano faced the wall. Dark hair covered most of the cheek.

If he was being honest, Le Boucher didn't plan for the man to leave with his life, but he didn't expect to kill him so quickly either. Guess that was what he got for thinking Le Boucher was some hit man

His hand went to the back of his neck without permission. The muscle had knotted there, hard enough to ache. He rolled his shoulders once beneath his coat and took another pull from the cigar.

He looked toward the desk. One drawer stood open. A compact pistol lay half inside it, caught against a leather ledger. The dead man’s fingers had missed the grip by less than an inch.

“That went well,” Le Boucher murmured.

The dead were excellent confidants.

Crossing to the body meant stepping around the deepest blood. His soles peeled off the marble with each step. He crouched, setting the cigar across the rim of the clean glass. The dead man wore casual clothes, his collar open on a narrow strip of skin. No pulse there. Head under the piano aside.

Two fingers into the inside pocket found a wallet. Cards, cash, and a photograph folded twice.

He opened the photograph.

Three people huddled together, one a child. Le Boucher studied the child for one breath, then folded the picture along its old lines and returned it to the wallet.

Children deserved better.

He searched the outer pockets. Keys in the left. A small folding knife in the right. Two receipts, one from a private club and another from a jeweler. The jeweler’s total carried enough zeroes to buy affection from anyone willing to rent it by the hour.

A dark rectangle pressed against the fabric near his right hip.

There.

He drew out the phone and wiped the bloody edge against the dead man’s jacket before moving to the head and taking hold of the hair. The strands were damp between his gloves. He turned the face toward the ceiling.

The eyes were open.

One had filled with blood where a vessel had burst. The other stared past Le Boucher at the painted cherubs above the piano. The mouth hung open around a breath it never finished.

The neck had been cut cleanly. His weapon was made for that work, though human bone always demanded commitment. Anyone who claimed otherwise had only watched from a safe distance.

Le Boucher held the phone above the face.

The lock opened.

He lowered the head carefully. It rolled an inch before the cheek settled against the floor.

The phone showed a stack of notifications: missed calls, messages, a banking alert.

None carried the name he needed.

Back on his heels, he opened the messages. His thumb moved through conversations while the cigar burned behind him.

Most were useless.

Reason to believe failure. She has been infected. Nonna made sure of it.

Le Boucher opened that exchange.

Ah. So this is how we got to this point.

His jaw tightened. The cigar smoke no longer covered the odor rising from the rug. He stood and carried the phone to the desk, where the reading lamp threw a narrow pool of yellow across the ledger and pistol.

We will call in Le Boucher. He will handle it.

Arrogant bastard.

Killing him this early had made everything ahead harder. Le Boucher didn’t care. He had patience, and in time she would come apart the way everyone comes apart.

Under his knife.

CHAPTER

ONE

ASHER

ONE YEAR AGO

My odds were shit from the start. Either my name or the slopes were gonna take me out eventually. But her?

Fuck.

I try to lift my head, but it weighs a thousand pounds, pulling at the muscles in my neck.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >102

Advertisement His Assistant – Sinful Mafia Daddies Read Online Natasha L. Black http://www.books2020.com/his-assistant-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Sun, 16 Aug 2026 18:15:20 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/his-assistant-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Mafia Authors: Natasha L. Black Advertisement

Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

I took the wrong elevator.
Now I work for the Mafia.

I was supposed to interview for an entry-level office job…
To help pay off my father’s debts.

Instead, I walked straight into Dominic Vieri.
Billionaire. Older. Powerful.
The kind of man who walks into a room…
...and owns every inch of it.

He never interviewed me.
He hired me.
Now he looks at me like he already owns me.

The job came with one unwritten rule.
Don't fall for your boss.
I broke it anyway.

One reckless night changed everything.
Now I've become the one thing his enemies can use to destroy him.

Dominic's solution?

Move me into his penthouse.
Post guards outside my door.
And makes one thing perfectly clear.
Nobody touches what's his.

The only problem?

Once Dominic discovers I’m carrying his child…
He’ll never let me go.

This is a full-length, standalone age-gap mafia romance packed with danger, possessive heat, and a guaranteed HEA. No cliffhanger

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

SOFIA

The woman at the security desk looks at my shoes before she looks at my face, and she doesn’t seem particularly impressed. I pretend not to notice. They’re clean. That should count for something, right?

They’re also a knockoff designer brand I scored on clearance. The left one pinches the side of my foot something awful, but fashion is pain, right? They match the navy slacks and cream blouse I picked out for my interview, so I breathe through it.

I desperately need this job. So, I don’t mind the way the security guard is side-eyeing me. It’ll be worth it later when she’s scanning my employee badge.

“Sofia Bellini,” I tell her as I step up to the desk. “I have a nine-thirty interview with the hospitality division.”

She checks her screen. I keep my shoulders straight and my hands still, even though I want to grab the edge of the desk for balance. After a few excruciating seconds, she prints a badge and slides it across.

“Twenty-sixth floor,” she says in a bored voice.

“Thank you!” I squeak out.

She nods once, already looking past me to the next person waiting to get in.

The lobby is so large I’d call it cavernous. It’s bigger than the cathedral I grew up attending in Queens, and for years I thought that was the biggest building in the world. Dad didn’t take us into Manhattan much. This place has marble floors, brass trim, and floor-to-ceiling windows. It feels wrong to scuff it in my knockoffs.

Vieri Holdings isn’t my usual scene. It’s a far cry from my Queens apartment, where the water pressure is pitiful, and my father’s repair shop with the cracked front window.

This place screams luxury and old money. There are floral arrangements taller than children going through puberty here. They probably cost more than my rent, too.

I head for the elevators and try not to tally the price of everything I see. It’s an unfortunate force of habit. My phone buzzes in my pocket just as the doors open, and I pull it out to read the message.

Good luck, sweetheart. Everything here is fine.

It’s from my dad, and I know for a fact that everything is not fine. The garage is not fine. It hasn’t been fine in a long time. His health isn’t fine either. His blood pressure is a constant headache to his doctor. His debt is not fine. It’s the main reason I made the trek on the subway this morning.

I wish it worked that way. I wish just saying things were fine would make them so.

I step inside the elevator with a woman in a pinstriped suit who’s barking into her phone like there’s no one else in the cramped space. Two men follow her in. One smells like expensive cologne. At least $500 an ounce, if I had to guess.

The woman presses thirty-two. One of the men presses forty. I press twenty-six. At least, I think I do.

My phone buzzes before the doors close.

Dad: Don’t worry about me today. Focus on you.

It would be a lot easier to focus on me if he’d stop texting. I don’t mean to feel as annoyed as I do, but my nerves are complicating everything else. I take a deep breath and type out a response.

Me: Love you. I’ll call after.

By the time I look up, the doors are open, so I step out, thinking it must be my floor. Only, too late, I realize the woman in the pinstriped suit is still yelling into her phone two feet ahead of me. The doors close behind me before I can get back in and try for the right floor.

“Of course,” I mutter.

I jab the down button and wait impatiently. This stupid little mistake is going to make me late to my interview. I turn my phone off just to make sure I don’t make another dumb error.

Somewhere down the hall, a woman yells, “No, no, no, that is not the revised deck.”

A man answers, “It was in the folder.”

“The wrong folder, Bruce.”

“I didn’t name the folders.”

“You don’t need to name them to read a date.”

I pretend not to hear them since it’s doing nothing to calm my nerves. Instead, I clutch my own folder containing my resume tighter to my chest and tap my foot impatiently at the world’s slowest elevator.

Then someone rounds the corner too fast. A hard shoulder slams into mine and I nearly fall to the floor. My folder wasn’t so lucky though and slips dramatically from my hand. Pages from my résumé scatter across the floor. A stack of black presentation folders hits the marble at the same time, and now there’s a huge mess. Why, God, why? This is the last thing I need right now.

Then I look up. The man who ran into me is tall, broad, and ridiculously attractive. Like, I’d probably forget my own name if he asked attractive. He’s wearing a dark, expensive suit. I’m guessing at least $5,000, not counting the shirt or cufflinks. His dark hair is graying a little at the temples, though it’s more silver than gray. He’s scowling even though he’s the one who ran into me, and that just irritates me further.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

Advertisement Just a Little Tempted (Sterling Family Crossover #3) Read Online Carly Phillips http://www.books2020.com/just-a-little-tempted-sterling-family-crossover-3-read-online-carly-phillips Sun, 16 Aug 2026 18:14:50 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/just-a-little-tempted-sterling-family-crossover-3-read-online-carly-phillips Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic Authors: Carly Phillips Series: Sterling Family Crossover Series by Carly Phillips
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >85

I never meant to fall for my boss.

When I was hired to be Simon’s assistant, everyone warned me he was impossible—brilliant, demanding, and obsessed with control. But after surviving two months of his rules and grumpy attitude, I’ve learned how to manage my boss. Maybe it’s my chaotic upbringing or the fact that I desperately need this job, but I can’t ignore the moments when his guarded edges soften… even if he pretends they don’t.

Then one nervous slip in front of a major client turns into a fake relationship neither of us can back out of. Now I’m Simon’s “girlfriend,” attending dinners, traveling for meetings, and sharing far too much close proximity with the man I’m not supposed to want. Pretending to belong to him shouldn’t feel real—but it does. And the hardest part isn’t keeping up the lie. It’s realizing I’m falling for him for real.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

Simon

“You’re fired.”

Sarah’s eyes went wide, her jaw dropping open. She’d been my assistant for all of three weeks, so I’d hoped she’d take the news without much fuss. But the outrage twisting her features told me I’d miscalculated. She was going to make a scene.

“Is this a joke?” Fire flashed in her eyes.

I couldn’t fathom what part of this she imagined I’d find amusing. I folded my arms across my chest and let my gaze go hard. “No. Gather your things and leave your parking pass on the desk.”

I turned toward my office, but she recovered fast, darting around her desk to plant herself in my path. If looks could kill, the one she leveled at me would have dropped me where I stood.

“You can’t just fire me,” she said, her voice sharp with anger. “I’ve been a great assistant—”

“You were adequate at first.” I cut her off, my patience already thinning. “But your performance lately has been less than impressive. I gave you a list of tasks this morning. You’ve completed half of them.”

She rolled her eyes, and any flicker of doubt I might have had about letting her go vanished. I couldn’t trust someone who couldn’t finish the work and then got defensive when I called them on their incompetence.

“That list was ridiculous,” she shot back. “It was too much. I tried to tell you that, but of course you didn’t listen. You’re too much of an unreasonable tyrant.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d heard a variation of that. You’re too demanding. You’re mean. You’re impossible to work with. You’re bossy.

That last one always grated. I was the boss. I signed the paychecks, and I expected results in return. I had standards for my assistants. There was nothing wrong with that.

And yet every assistant I’d let go lately seemed to agree on one point: I was the problem.

“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. Staying professional while someone insulted me took effort, but I refused to let my temper get the best of me. “If you find me to be such an unreasonable tyrant, then surely you’ll agree this job isn’t a good fit. Please leave.”

It wasn’t a request. We both knew it. I stepped around her and into my office, and the moment the door clicked shut behind me, the ranting began. Her commentary on my character was colorful and loud enough that Liam, my brother and business partner here at Powers Investment Group, was guaranteed to catch every word from his office across the hall.

Of course he was in today. He spent most of the week at GalvaTech, the electronics company we’d invested in a few months back. Any other day, there would have been no witnesses. Today, naturally, there would be.

Sarah was gone within fifteen minutes. Liam gave me five more before he walked into my office without knocking, his mouth set in a frown.

I was halfway through the quarterly report from one of last year’s investments, and I stubbornly kept my eyes fixed on the columns of numbers on my screen, hoping that if I looked busy enough, he’d take the hint and leave me alone.

Instead, he dropped into one of the chairs across from my desk. So much for wishful thinking.

“So.” He drew the word out. “That one lasted what—three weeks? Slightly longer than the last one, at least.”

I lifted my gaze from the computer screen. His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed a fraction, like I was a puzzle he’d given up trying to solve. He exhaled a heavy sigh and crossed his arms. Liam wasn’t a lecturer by nature, but everything in his posture said one was heading my way.

I leaned back in my chair and managed a shrug. “You and the staff have a bet going on or something? What’s the difference if she lasted three weeks or three days?”

Liam groaned and dragged a hand through his dark hair. “Please don’t fire someone after three days. That’s insane.”

“I was exaggerating,” I said, though I didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Were you?” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Because lately it seems like you can’t hang on to an assistant at all.”

“It’s not my fault if they aren’t up to the job.”

“It is your fault if you’re impossible to work for.” He said it gently, which somehow made it land harder.

I let out a laugh that was completely devoid of humor. “Is this supposed to be tough love from my big brother?”

“This is concern from your business partner.”

Irritation settled over me. “And as my business partner, I’d think you’d appreciate that I have such high standards. I’m trying to elevate this company by demanding excellence. That’s not a flaw.”

Liam shook his head. “You’re purposefully setting expectations that are difficult to meet. That’s different.”

I held his stare and said nothing. I wasn’t going to repeat myself. After everything we’d been through, he knew where the standards came from. If demanding excellence made me difficult, then the problem wasn’t the standard—it was that I hadn’t found anyone who could rise to it. Someone who’d work hard. Someone who thrived under pressure instead of folding beneath it. Someone I could trust.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >85

Advertisement Meet Cute the Virgin – Meet Cute Read Online Lucy Darling http://www.books2020.com/meet-cute-the-virgin-meet-cute-read-online-lucy-darling Sun, 16 Aug 2026 18:14:30 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/meet-cute-the-virgin-meet-cute-read-online-lucy-darling Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Novella, Virgin Authors: Lucy Darling Advertisement

Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

What happens when a grumpy billionaire tech genius accidentally on-purposes his way into guardianship of the sunshine heiress he's been low-key stalking for years? Firewalls, feelings, and spectacularly bad decisions fly.

Tristan Vanderbilt’s whole carefully-controlled life implodes when he becomes guardian to Lily Swan, daughter of his definitely-murdered mentor. He was only going to watch her. Keep her safe. Maybe build a dating app to talk to her anonymously, install surveillance across from her best friend's estate, and break into her bedroom that one time. New mission: convince the girl he's been obsessed with since forever that this is all totally normal protector behavior. She is, after all, his princess.

Lily Swan has terrible luck with escapes. Every time she runs, Tristan appears, in Paris, in her actual bedroom at 3 AM being emotionally vulnerable and annoyingly hot. He's either the most dedicated guardian in history or a complete disaster. Possibly both. New mission: figure out if she's escaping from him or running toward him. He is, after all, her sweetheart.

"Meet Cute the Virgin" weaves obsession and chaos in a story where love and terrible boundary-setting collide, leaving readers wondering if red flags can just be... decorative?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

TRISTAN

Being in high-pressure situations is what I was built for. It’s a natural skill set I’ve always possessed. I’m sure confidence plays a massive role in that. I was very adept with computers from a young age. It’s not shocking. My father has always had a high-profile technology career that goes all the way back to the PalmPilot.

That really launched him. He became one of the most sought-after employees, bouncing between a few giant global companies.

I’d been an afterthought. He loved my mother, and she told me it was a whirlwind romance, and it wasn’t long before she was pregnant with me. He adored her. I still believe he sees her as a prize, even with how much he loved her. She was a supermodel when they met. My father was always the reserved, geeky type.

I was merely something my mother wanted. If it was possible for him to give her anything her heart desired, he did. Being a mom was on her list. As far ahead as my father could predict, he never considered the amount of attention Mom would focus on me, which meant it wasn’t on him.

This caused resentment. Not directed at my mother but at me. He put on that he loved me, but it was all a show. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were incapable of emotions beyond Mom. As I’ve gotten older, I realize that I also have many of his traits.

When I got recruited early to MIT, I didn’t hesitate in taking them up on it. I do love my mother; she means well, but I wasn’t sticking around to deal with my father any longer. I was only a few years into MIT, still a teen, when the FBI came knocking on my dorm room door wanting to recruit me.

That knock hadn’t come long after I submitted a patent for Dally 2.0. It was the world’s most advanced autonomous inventory robot. It featured a new optical system and superior sensing capabilities. It was able to effectively analyze area environments, scan and track products or items, and rapidly process data.

I have never officially worked for the government as an employee. They tried many times to hire me. I would rather not be beholden to anyone. They weren’t thrilled with my decision, but not wanting to lose me, they hired me as a subcontractor for different jobs or tasks.

A lot of my work was based around the military, but I worked closest to the director of the FBI. He took a liking to me, and it wasn’t until his death that I realized how I’d put him into a father role. He was the one who guided me through my teens and into adulthood. I respected him and looked up to him.

Victor was a good man. When he passed away, it deeply affected me, but nothing affected me more than his daughter did. I only met her a few times before his passing. Victor tried to keep his private life separate, but that line with us had started to blur.

I was shocked when, at his funeral, I was approached by his lawyer and asked to attend the reading of the will. I thought maybe there were project files he wanted me to have or a sentimental item. Never in a million years would I have been prepared for his last wishes.

Let’s just say I wasn’t wrong. To Victor, it was sentimental, the most loved and cherished possession he had: his daughter. The same daughter that is now staring daggers at me over breakfast. This is how all of our meals together have been for the last few weeks. Things around here have escalated, and for once in my life, I have no idea how to handle a situation. I’m way out of my depth. Lily isn’t a robot or a system I can try and reprogram.

She’s defiant and has a mouth worse than her father’s.

When Lily’s pissed, her voice rises, sharply, and it can easily slice right through you. Her cheeks flush, and her hands never stop moving. It’s a beautiful tidal wave of emotions. She’s filled with them in ways I have never experienced firsthand.

I watch her with a forensic intensity, tracking and memorizing the way her lips press together like she is trying to control herself, but the words end up exploding out. But when she ignores me, it’s worse. I feel it everywhere.

Lily doesn’t hold anything back and puts her emotions right out there. No matter how many times I tell her she needs to work on getting them under control. That always provokes her. Do I do it because I want her to get a hold on them or because I enjoy getting a reaction from her?

Can it be both? The reality is, I don’t have a fucking clue what I should be doing. Not since she finished school and has now come home permanently.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67