----‎‧₊˚✧ 𝑩𝑶𝑶𝑲 #1 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑺 ✧˚₊‧---- Layla Ibrahim has one goal: to excel in school and prove she's the best. The only problem? She just failed a subject, and the last person she wants help from is Louis Miller-the annoyingly charming golden boy who gets perfect grades without even trying. But when circumstances force him to tutor her against his will, their mutual hatred reaches a whole new level. Until they had to strike a deal-one that benefits them both. But as the tension between them shifts from heated arguments to something far more complicated, Layla and Louis realize that what started as a simple arrangement might be harder to navigate than they thought. Enemies. Rivals. Academic disaster waiting to happen. And yet, the more time they spend together, the harder it becomes to ignore the sparks flying between them. #2 on booklover #4 on bookclub #5 on booktok

"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN