Emily Fields, a twenty-four-year-old girl who loves to dominate and make others beg for her, comes to rosewood for a meeting, only to run into someone she claims as her own upon first sight. Alison Dilaurentis, an eighteen-year-old girl who has a rocky past and a fucked up life, meets Emily Fields for the first time and has no idea who she is. What will happen when Emily asks Alison to become her submissive? Some parts might trigger some audiences, so read at your own risk:) **I DO NOT OWN THE CHARACTERS IN THIS BOOK. THEY ARE BASED OFF A TELEVISION SHOW CALLED PRETTY LITTLE LIARS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT STORY THAT I HAVE MADE UP**

In the realm of guns, lies, deception and beasts, an angel was born "Damn it!" ---

"The way you behave...behave around me, with me it's highly inappropriate. I don't want you think I'll be your little assistant that you fuck on top of your desk or in the break room, if that's your intention I think it's best if you fire me or atleast send me back to work for Mr Caine," I told him after a couple seconds of silence I turned to face him to be greeted with a hard look on his face. "Amelia....I'm sorry if you thought that was my intention, I can see where you would get that idea.. and I apologize for my lack of communication, in what I want," "So what do you want?" I asked my voice sounding strange I cleared my throat, he reached forward taking my ice-cream placing it on the bench his hand moving to my chin making sure I held eye contact. "You..I want you Amelia," he answered his voice soft but held a level of firmness. I sat there looking at him, his eyes filled with emotions and unspoken words that had me melting under his gaze. "What do you mean y-" "Please don't make me repeat myself, I find it quite annoying," he replied his other hand moving from my knee to thigh the grip firm. "Well you're my boss telling me that you...want me, I think I'm going to need some clarification Xavier," I said frustrated and he swallowed hard, his Adams apple moving and I wish I could know what he was thinking. Before another thought can pass through my mind, his lips are on mine Shakespeare The course of true love never did run smooth