Eli King learned three things before he turned thirteen: everyone can be manipulated, power belongs to whoever is ruthless enough to take it, and attachment makes you weak. Then he met her. Three months. One psychiatric ward. One quiet little girl he protected when nobody else would. And one nickname he never forgot. Pretty girl. Nearly two decades later, Eli has everything he promised himself he’d have—billions, an empire, and enough power to destroy people with a phone call. He’s arrogant, calculating, dangerously charming, and notoriously incapable of remorse. People are pawns. Relationships are transactions. And love is for fucking idiots. Until an applicant walks into King Holdings looking for a job…and something about her makes Eli look twice. Then a third time. Because those eyes are familiar. That smile is impossible. And suddenly, the only person Eli King ever gave a damn about is standing inside his building, completely unaware that the disturbed little boy who once protected her grew into a dangerously powerful man. His pretty girl came back. And Eli has never been particularly good at letting go of things he considers his.
💬 401.8k
@lunababy_King Holdings occupied the top eleven floors of a glass tower on Madison Avenue. Floor forty-three was all marble and cold light, the kind of lobby designed to make people stand up a little straighter and lower their voices.