**✧･ﾟ: 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝟏 – 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒆 :･ﾟ✧

...----------------...

-•°💔 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐎𝐕 💔°•-

"You're fired."

The words echoed in my mind as I sat at the bar, gripping my drink tighter. Fired. After years of loyalty, dedication, and late nights, all it took was one betrayal to ruin everything.

And by whom? My so-called best friend.

She had seduced the boss, and the next thing I knew, I was packing my things, humiliated and jobless.

"I swear, if I see them again, I’ll rip them apart."

The alcohol burned down my throat, but the anger burned hotter.

"Another."

The bartender hesitated, looking at me cautiously, but I shot him a glare. He quickly poured another.

I wasn’t in the mood for caution. I was in the mood to forget.

I barely noticed the people around me anymore, the crowd blurring into the background. That was until I felt a presence—intense, suffocating, powerful.

Someone was watching me.

Before I could react, a voice cut through the noise.

"Hey, sweetheart."

I groaned inwardly. Not tonight.

A group of men had approached, their grins sending a wave of disgust through me.

"Not interested," I muttered, swirling my drink.

"Oh, come on. Don’t be like that—"

Before he could finish, I felt it.

A strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back against something solid—warm, firm, possessive.

A deep voice, smooth as silk but sharp as a blade, spoke:

"She’s taken."

The entire group froze.

-•°🔥 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 🔥°•-

I wasn’t planning to interfere.

But the moment I saw those men approach her, something inside me snapped.

She was mine.

They just didn’t know it yet.

"Who the hell are you?" one of them challenged.

I smirked, tightening my grip on her waist.

"Her husband."

A sharp intake of breath. Not from them—from her.

She turned to me, her dark brown eyes dazed and confused.

"M-my husband?" she stammered.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against her ear as I whispered, "Yes, and who told you to drink this much, hmm? Look at you—can’t even recognize your own husband."

Her lips parted slightly, a flicker of guilt crossing her features. She believed me.

Perfect.

The men stepped back, hesitant. They weren’t stupid enough to challenge me.

"Now, if you’ll excuse us," I said coldly.

Before she could protest, I bent down and scooped her into my arms effortlessly.

"H-hey!" she gasped, gripping my shirt.

She was light. Fragile. And for some reason, I didn’t want to let go.

"Put me down," she mumbled, her head lolling against my chest.

I ignored her, walking toward my car. The cold air hit her, and she shivered. Instinctively, I held her closer.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Home."

Her lashes fluttered, and for the first time, she didn’t argue.

She had no idea what she had just walked into.

And I had no intention of letting her go.

---

🔥 𝐓𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝… 🔥

**✧･ﾟ: 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝟐 – 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅...?! :･ﾟ✧

-•°💍 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐎𝐕 💍°•-

A pounding headache. A dry throat. A strange warmth beside me.

I groaned, forcing my eyes open.

Soft silk sheets, a grand chandelier, and the lingering scent of something expensive. Where the hell am I?

And then I noticed it—the weight on my hand.

My breath hitched. A ring. A sparkling, diamond ring sitting snugly on my finger.

No. No. No.

I sat up so fast that the covers slipped off me, revealing an oversized shirt draping over my body—a man's shirt.

Before I could process that horrifying detail, a deep, groggy voice made me freeze.

"Good morning, Mrs. Husband-forgetter."

Slowly, dreadfully, I turned my head.

And there he was.

The man from last night.

Shirtless. Tousled hair. Muscular arms folded behind his head as he smirked at me from the other side of the bed.

"Mrs."... What the hell does he mean by—"

My gaze snapped to the nightstand. A marriage certificate sat there.

With my name. And his.

I WAS MARRIED?!

-•°🔥 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 🔥°•-

I expected her to panic. To scream. Maybe even throw something at me.

Instead, she just sat there, staring at the marriage certificate like it had personally ruined her life.

"Tell me this is a joke," she whispered.

I stretched lazily, enjoying her reaction.

"Not a joke, sweetheart. You said ‘I do’ in front of a priest last night. You even kissed me—twice."

Her eyes widened in horror.

"I— I wouldn’t—"

I smirked.

"You did."

"WHY would I do that?!"

"Because you were drunk, adorable, and absolutely irresistible."

Her face turned an interesting shade of red.

"T-this isn’t legal. I— I didn’t consent properly!"

"Sweetheart," I leaned in, voice low, "you signed the papers yourself. And in case you forgot—" I lifted her left hand, brushing my thumb over the ring "—you belong to me now."

Her breath hitched, and for a second, I saw something flicker in her eyes.

Fear? Curiosity?

I didn’t care.

She was mine now.

And I had no intention of letting her go.

—•✧ Her POV ✧•—

I took a deep breath, strategizing.

If I couldn’t run, I had to make him hate me.

I turned to him with the most bratty, annoying expression I could muster.

"Listen, Mr. Billionaire Mafia Whatever—"

"Liam Drakos," he corrected, unfazed.

I ignored him. "—I don’t wake up before noon. I spend an unhealthy amount of money on things I don’t need. I take long showers and I have an emotional support credit card that requires weekly maxing out."

I crossed my arms, smirking. Let’s see how long he lasts.

But instead of looking horrified, Liam smiled.

Not just a smile—a full-on, breathtaking, heart-stopping grin.

"Perfect." His voice was smooth and confident. "I’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed, hire a personal shopper and a second water heater."

I blinked.

What the actual hell?!

Alright. Plan B.

I took a step closer, narrowing my eyes. "I throw tantrums. Like, full-on, stomping my feet, throwing things, and screaming until I get my way."

Liam tilted his head, amused. "Adorable. I’d love to see you try."

I clenched my jaw. Okay. Fine. He wanted war? He’d get war.

"I’m high maintenance. I demand daily foot massages, weekly vacations to Paris, and a dedicated closet for my jewelry."

"Done." He stepped closer. "Though I’d rather massage you somewhere else."

My face heated. Nope. Focus.

"I cry over fictional characters and expect my husband to suffer through every romance novel I read."

"I’ll read them out loud to you."

Jail. Immediately.

"I’ll bring stray animals home—"

"We’ll build a shelter."

WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HIM?!

I refused to be defeated.

Liam was too perfect, too patient, too… everything.

But I wasn’t giving up.

I crossed my arms, tilting my chin up. "Just so you know, I never exercise. Not even a little."

Liam’s gaze slowly dragged over me, and a lazy smirk curled his lips. ""So you’re telling me you stay effortlessly perfect? Sounds like a win to me.Besides, less time at the gym just means more time in my arms."

My face heated.

No. No distractions.

"I hog the blankets. And the bed. I sleep like a starfish, and I will push you off if you try to take my space."

"I don’t mind. I’ll just pull you on top of me instead."

I choked.

He did not just say that so casually.

I gritted my teeth. "I am dramatic, over-the-top, and I cry when my favorite fictional characters die."

Liam leaned in, whispering against my ear, "Then I’ll be right there to wipe your tears, sweetheart."

Oh my God.

I was losing.

"I can’t cook, but I eat like a monster. If I don’t get my food, I become an actual demon."

Liam laughed, actually laughed, and it was dangerously attractive.

"Then I’ll make sure you never go hungry. And if you ever do… I’ll personally feed you."

My brain short-circuited.

🔥 To Be Continued… 🔥

✦ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 – 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥'𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐚 ✦

—•✧ Her POV ✧•—

Alright. It was time to break this man.

I cleared my throat, crossing my arms. “You don’t even fit my type.”

Liam raised a brow, clearly unbothered. "Oh? And what’s your type, princess?"

I leaned back, flipping my hair. "I like men straight out of books. The mysterious kind, the ones who stand in the shadows at a masquerade ball, sipping whiskey while brooding over some dark past."

He tilted his head. "So... you want me to lurk dramatically in corners?"

I ignored that. “He should have cold, sharp eyes that pierce into your soul. A jawline carved by the gods. A voice so deep it could shake the earth."

Liam took a slow sip of his coffee. "Angel, I think you just described me."

I gritted my teeth.

"He should have a tragic past. Haunted by memories. The type to stare out of rainy windows while listening to sad violin music."

Liam sighed dramatically. "So… last night, when I was drinking bourbon in my study, staring out of the window… That counts?"

I sputtered. “YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!”

"No, sweetheart. I'm just naturally your type."

I wanted to throw something.

"Fine. He should quote poetry—"

“'I have measured out my life with coffee spoons—'” he began smoothly.

I slapped a hand over his mouth. "STOP IT!"

His shoulders shook with laughter.

"He should be emotionally unavailable, but secretly a sweetheart."

Liam leaned closer. "Emotionally unavailable? Darling, I’ll spend every second proving how available I am for you."

My heart betrayed me with a stupid little flip.

"He should have scars. Deep ones. The kind he lets me trace at night while he whispers his pain only to me."

Liam grabbed my hand, placing it over his heartbeat. "Trace away, angel. I’m all yours."

I snatched my hand back like it burned.

"He should sneak into my balcony at night just to see me."

Liam grinned. "Give me an address, and I’ll be climbing by midnight."

I let out a frustrated scream.

"He should whisper confessions in the dark."

He leaned in, voice like sin. "Like how I already know I’m never letting you go?"

I shot up from my seat, face burning. “I HATE YOU.”

Liam just sat back, smirking. "Sure, princess. Keep telling yourself that."

—•✧ His POV ✧•—

She was adorable.

Every time she tried to push me away, she only pulled me in deeper. Her eyes burned with frustration, lips pouting slightly as she huffed. I wanted to kiss that pout right off her face.

I leaned back, watching as she stomped around the kitchen, muttering something about 'infuriating men' and 'stupid, perfect faces.'

"You done with your little tantrum?" I teased.

She spun around, hands on her hips. "Listen, Mr. Drakos, this is not a tantrum. This is me making it clear that this marriage is a mistake. A huge, colossal mistake."

I pretended to think. "Hmm. Nope. I don’t see it."

Her jaw dropped. "You—!" She groaned, running a hand through her hair. "I don’t cook, I don’t clean, I spend way too much money on books—"

"That just means our house will always be full of stories."

"I binge-read till 3 AM and cry over fictional characters—"

"I’ll make sure to have tissues ready for you."

Her eyes narrowed. "I take my books to dinner and ignore people."

"So I’ll just have to make sure I’m more interesting than your books."

She sucked in a breath, clearly exasperated. "I don’t work out. Not even a little."

I smirked, letting my eyes roam over her figure. "Angel, with a body like that, you don’t need to."

A faint blush spread across her cheeks, but she quickly masked it with a glare. "You’re impossible."

I shrugged. "You married me."

"That was an accident!"

I grinned. "No take-backs, sweetheart."

She threw a pillow at me.

—•✧ Her POV ✧•—

This man was a menace.

No matter what I said, he had a response that made my heart stutter. He wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to get mad, be annoyed, demand a divorce. Instead, he was acting like he had walked straight out of my dark romance fantasies.

I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. "Are you sure you’re not a book boyfriend come to life?"

Liam smirked. "Darling, if I was, you’d never stand a chance."

I buried my face in my hands. This was going to be a disaster for me.

—•✧ To Be Continued... ✧•—