Adonis De Avilla
The cheap tequila still burned, a bitter echo of the reckless night. My head throbbed, a dull counterpoint to the ache in my body. Sunlight sliced through the gap in the curtains, illuminating the sleeping man beside me. His dark hair, tousled against the pillow, was familiar… unsettlingly so. I slipped out of bed, the silk sheets cool against my skin, leaving him undisturbed. Two weeks later, the polished mahogany of Adonis De Avilla's desk gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights. He looked up, his eyes – the same dark eyes I'd glimpsed in the dim bar – widening fractionally in recognition. "Good morning, Ms. Reyes," he said, his voice smooth as aged whiskey. The casualness was a cruel joke. My blood ran cold. Him. The man from the bar. My boss. The CEO of Avillas Hotels and Company. He wanted me, a fleeting pleasure, a secret kept in the shadows of his opulent life. He didn't know about Miguel, my boyfriend, the man who held my heart. And I wouldn't let him. This was
About Adonis De Avilla
The cheap tequila still burned, a bitter echo of the reckless night. My head throbbed, a dull counterpoint to the ache in my body. Sunlight sliced through the gap in the curtains, illuminating the sleeping man beside me. His dark hair, tousled against the pillow, was familiar… unsettlingly so. I slipped out of bed, the silk sheets cool against...Read more