Meet Scarlett Striker, a bold and quirky journalist for the Seattle Times. She's fun, confident, sassy, and just the right amount of weird. Scarlett is determined to rise to the top, no matter what it takes.
When her boss offers a golden opportunity...
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-Your love is a chokehold-
Trigger warnings: light breath play, brief spanking andddd a bit of force.
Enjoy locasss.
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Shortly after Christmas, James dragged me back to Seattle. No explanation, no warning—just the cold efficiency he operates with, and now I'm here, still trying to wrap my head around the mess that's been the last few days. Chris announcing his engagement with Rebecca? Yeah, that was a gut punch. And with Elizabeth's birthday coming up on the 30th, I'm determined to spend time with her—even if James throws one of his fits.
And, knowing James, he probably will.
I already spent hours on the phone with my mom, attempting to explain the complex, tangled web that is my relationship with him. Not exactly the easiest thing to explain: Hey, Mom, I'm with a man who is both a CEO and a ruthless mob leader. But don't worry, it's fine. Yeah, that wouldn't go over so well.
Now, as I walk through James's sprawling penthouse, I feel... lost. I'm working from home—well, more like I'm forced to work from home—but it doesn't feel right. I'm used to the hustle, to seeing Eva and Josh every day, and now all I do is field their texts, each one asking when I can hang out. And what am I supposed to say? Oh, sorry, guys, can't hang out—James won't let me because his enemies want to kidnap me. Yeah, right.
And then there's Adriel. I basically ghosted him. Part of me feels bad, but honestly, it's easier this way. How could I even begin to explain this world to him? He wouldn't understand, and I wouldn't blame him if he didn't. Hell, I don't fully understand it.
I wander through James's massive penthouse, feeling small in the vastness of it. He hasn't been home all day, which is nothing new, but today, I feel the urge to snoop. Call it curiosity or boredom or just the frustration of temporarily living with a man who never lets me in. James is always so composed, so emotionally detached, and I want to crack him open—to understand what goes on beneath that unbreakable surface.
I find myself in his office. The space is sleek, cold—like him. I move toward his desk, glancing around the room, half-expecting one of his men to walk in at any moment. There's always someone around, always watching. But today, it's just me.
