The Edge Of Us

At 23, Joya Miller had built her own name despite her family's empire. Strong, independent, untouchable-until she found herself trapped in the same suffocating world as Alex Davis, 28, the man who embodied everything she despised.

It wasn't just the way he looked at her-like he owned the air she breathed. It wasn't the way his voice dripped with arrogance, laced with that maddening smirk. It wasn't even the way his presence set her on edge, like an electric storm waiting to break.

No, she hated him because every time they clashed, every time they exchanged sharp words and bitter glares, something inside her didn't just burn-it craved.

And that was dangerous.

So when he pinned her against the wall, their breaths tangled in the silence between them, she told herself she felt nothing. That the heat in her veins was anger, not attraction. That the way his fingers curled under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze, didn't send a shiver down her spine.

"You can lie to yourself all you want,firefly" Alex murmured, his voice dark, teasing. "But we both know you feel this just as much as I do."

She should have slapped him. Should have shoved him away.

Instead, her breath hitched, her pulse betraying her.

Because the truth was, hate had never felt this intoxicating. And she wasn't sure if she wanted to escape it- or drown in it.

The Millers and the Davises had been at war for years. A quiet, dangerous war filled with power plays, sabotage, and whispered threats behind closed doors.

Joya Miller had grown up knowing one thing-never trust a Davis. And especially never trust Alex Davis.

But life had a cruel sense of humor.