Aira, une jeune étudiante de 22 ans, évolue au sein d'une grande famille africaine propriétaire de prestigieuses chaînes d'hôtellerie. Dans un jeu d'alliances destiné à solidifier les fondations économiques de deux dynasties, Aira se retrouve liée à Liam Walsh, un homme de 28 ans, énigmatique et stoïque, dévoué corps et âme à l'empire familial des Walsh.

I froze. A man was slumped against the graffiti-covered brick wall, blood blooming across his side. His white shirt was soaked through, and there was a gun just inches from his open hand. My heart slammed against my ribs. Run, Skye. You should run. But I didn't. Instead, I dropped my bag and took a cautious step closer. His head lifted. Piercing, icy blue eyes met mine, sharp even through the haze of pain. His face was all sharp edges and shadowed scruff, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. His accent was thick and rough, like broken glass. "Leave." I shook my head slowly. "You're bleeding. Bad." "Not your concern." His voice was lethal, but he flinched hard when he tried to move. "You're gonna die out here," I whispered, kneeling beside him. My hands trembled as I pressed a napkin from my apron against his side. "I'm studying to be a nurse. Let me help." He stared at me like I was something he couldn't comprehend. A stranger. A softness he didn't trust. Then his hand, heavy and warm, clamped around my wrist-not rough, but firm. "What's your name?" he rasped. "...Skye." A beat passed. Then another. "I am Mikhail." His eyes darkened. "And you shouldn't have found me."

Pour lui, elle était la fille parfaite. Pour les autres, juste une fille arrogante, trop sûre d'elle. Lui, il n'était personne. Discret, invisible, presque effacé. Elle, éclatante, provocante, impossible à ignorer. Alors, comment aurait-elle pu le remarquer ? Et pourtant... un jour, elle l'a fait. 𝑏𝑤𝑤𝑚 | 𝑏𝑎𝑑𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑥 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑏𝑜𝑦