Little Tree

Little Tree

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing17h 22m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Sep 12, 2026
WpInfo
Fiction
Romance
Billionaires and CEOs
Mafia
Opposites Attract
Nearly eighteen years have passed since Willow was allowed to simply exist. Raised in locked rooms and silence, she learned rules without ever being told they were wrong-so she steps into freedom bright-eyed and reckless, all summer dresses and soft wonder, finding joy in everything the world kept from her. Willow is sunshine with sharp edges: independent, curious, too kind for her own safety... and still unaware that what she survived was abuse until someone shows her what choice actually feels like. Byron Ferrari isn't that someone because he's gentle. He's twenty-four, a billionaire built from old money, grief and discipline, running a ruthless security empire and a stricter life. Control is how he breathes. Anxiety is how he loves. He doesn't want to cage Willow, he wants to keep her close because losing people is the only thing he's ever been good at. Byron is forced to learn the difference between protection and possession all while unintentionally turning her into a spoiled brat who craves his attention and affection. Willow walked into his immaculate kitchen, barefoot, carrying a fistful of wildflowers like contraband. Byron stared at the mud. Then at her. "Absolutely not." She smiled, radiant. 'Absolutely yes.' She signed. Ten minutes later, Byron was on his knees, gently cleaning the soles of her feet while she hummed. Tropes: Sunshine x Grumpy • Morally Grey Protector • He Falls First • Found Family • Touch-Consent • Fast paced • Lake House / Summer Vibes • Chosen Autonomy • spoiled MFC #1 sunshine #1 soft #1 old money #1 spoiled
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I love you, Aria. You look so pretty in pink. Stop ignoring me, princess. Playing hard to get, I see. I hate it when you braid your hair. Stop biting your lips you'll hurt yourself. The messages flash one after another on my screen, each one making my chest tighten and my hands tremble. My phone buzzes again, the vibration rattling against the nightstand like it's mocking me. I can't bear to read another word. I throw it onto the bed and bury my face in the pillow, my tears soaking through the fabric before I can stop them. I want it to stop. I want them to stop. It's been like this for months an endless stream of messages that swing between sweet and suffocating, between playful and threatening. And every day, I feel the invisible noose tightening. I'm scared. I'm so scared. I can't tell my dad. He already has enough to deal with especially with no heir to take over his business yet. I can't be another problem on his plate. But the truth is, I'm drowning. The worst part? I have no idea who it is. No face to match the words that haunt me. No name to put to the shadow that's watching me. But I know one thing for sure... He is not going to stop. And I can't handle living like this anymore...

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