Beau is twenty-four and determined to make it in New York City. Vogue was the dream, but Issue 8 was the reality-an offbeat magazine that felt more like a dead-end than a breakthrough. Still, she was used to surviving. Until she met him. Harry Styles is enigmatic, mercilessly beautiful, and next in line to inherit his father's multi-billion dollar empire. Behind the designer suits and the glass office lies a man with a taste for control-and a strict rule he never breaks: Don't fall in love. Beau was supposed to be another name. Another month. Another obedient distraction. But nothing about her went according to plan. Now she's playing a dangerous game inside his world-one where secrets are currency, sex is power, and love is the most dangerous risk of all.

She looked like an angel, but temptation had sharper edges. Her skin softer than the silk she wore, her body a siren's invitation-she was heaven wrapped in sin. He wasn't supposed to want her again. But rules never mattered when she was in his bed. She was elegance and recklessness. Beauty and bite. And no matter how far they ran from the past, it never stopped chasing them-especially when the chemistry still burns and the damage runs deeper than they're willing to admit. In a world of power, pride, and passion, love was never part of the deal. But obsession? That never really ended.

Maybe this was what it felt like to love someone who never quite stayed in one place. Maybe this was what it meant to fall in love with a man built on shifting versions of himself - some of them soft, some of them savage, and none of them safe. Maybe I had chosen this the moment I walked into his world. And now? Now I didn't know how to walk back out.

This is a story about addiction. Not the kind you recover from - the kind you learn to camouflage. You don't beat it. You bury it. You dress it in tailored suits and charm, keep it quiet with money and distraction. You learn how to bleed in private. It's about the damage you do when you think you're in control. The lies you tell yourself. The people you lose. The numbness you chase when feeling anything feels like too much. It's not a redemption arc. It's a slow unraveling. Of memory. Of guilt. Of a man who thought he could outrun what made him. This isn't about love. It's about survival - and the things you destroy on the way there.