Confucius Ads Library: Ads

Id	Vlad	Saved	Scrape Time	Status	Scrape Result	Title	Body	Cta Type	Link Url	Page Name	Page Profile Uri	Page Like Count	Enddate	Cta Text	Caption	Display Format	Link Description	Link Url	Creation Time	Page Profile Picture Url	Page Entity Type	Page Is Profile Page	Current Page Name	Startdate	Actions
2,759,478	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	Binge Gay Romance on Kindle Unlimited	High school gay romance. Binge the whole series FREE on Kindle Unlimited now!	LEARN_MORE	https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B099R31K9W?maas=maas_a	Milana Spencer MM Romance	https://www.facebook.com/61553712819395/	30	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	amazon.co.uk	IMAGE	High School + Gay Romance + Self-Discovery = A bingeable book series!	https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B099R31K9W?maas=maas_adg_7B9FD7A5FFC490B5788A4CEB01765E64_afap_abs&ref_=aa_maas&tag=maas	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481149305_1162915151895661_8444166429065929469_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MUrLWFNUesgQ7kNvgE2531c&_nc_oc=Adg7KT63wIx_uV1GwciegrpPS7PhX5n-5MEQgjN7yhvjyryxcDP3Ni6bKedxHg2HLa8810CHJ8Vq5eIBspj5Qlen&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AzeX0BjEhhqhfnhu1F1rs-N&oh=00_AYBG3YY0MuEBFOGWILUypsanPaIN_G7BaXCslvlB8CnH_Q&oe=67CBBC72	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Milana Spencer MM Romance	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,759,162	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	prefabricatedhouses01.xyz	Giá nhà lắp ghép sẽ gây sốc vào năm 2025🏠	LEARN_MORE	http://prefabricatedhouses01.xyz/?kw1=Prefab Modul	IN-4	https://www.facebook.com/61562974885595/	823	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	prefabricatedhouses01.xyz	IMAGE		http://prefabricatedhouses01.xyz/?kw1=Prefab Modular Buildings&kw2=Prefab Construction Companies&kw3=Pre Fab Buildings&kw4=Best Modular Homes&kw5=Prefab Companies&kw6=Prefab Manufacturers&pxfb[id]=1300080968016754&pxfb[ec]=Purchase&sub1={{clickid}}&sub2={{ad.id}}&sub3={{campaign.id}}&network=facebook&site={{placement}}&adtitle=Prefab Home Prices Will Shock by 2025	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481186332_1674106546519006_4515757451397185722_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=g35mAJiEKNkQ7kNvgFqI1OE&_nc_oc=Adi-COanD-o_TCekuoS9EH-KaNPAchYH1wjovo10buM2hp2iRp6_EHpK9dfjL8NLvE9_NNAMP_z4oZjlmIn8gFsw&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AczXO8IgDdQ9J1E8zGg5saM&oh=00_AYBCRfl_aQTGwpjjc_Vpuhj8z51eHX1ZFtqlB_sujUt-JA&oe=67CBC7C1	PERSON_PROFILE	0	IN-4	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,759,816	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2759095}'	No	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	Vol Club Confidential \| Ep. 325 \| Hunter Ensley	Hunter Ensley has seen it all in his years at Tennessee, and now the redshirt senior is stepping into a leadership role. He breaks down how the Vols are building another championship-caliber team, the impact of new faces on the roster, and his appreciation for the coaching staff. He also dives into his love for baseball history, his Braves fandom, and why #9 has always been his number.			Vol Club TV	https://www.facebook.com/volclubtv/	42	1969-12-31 18:00			VIDEO			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481111276_1307696460325464_6363124314859649879_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=RlC64uUbe9YQ7kNvgF2R1Aq&_nc_oc=AdjX4WDpfUwLqycDLWOpre2qr-4ulXkpsYrFV0LGzrrlmuMtO_OAOxzb_RhjoSSpMCK25nqaGQcSY76sAjBaZtxf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AdrdySGc1xUH81TMwi3-Ku7&oh=00_AYBs12YWB1kMStQ3MTCNnb9BL6kDxe2bWTDwylKsbqV68A&oe=67CBCBA0	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Vol Club TV	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,759,438	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2759430}'	No	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	Free chapters available on MangaPlaza!		WATCH_MORE	https://mangaplaza.com/special/z202412-001-ilove/?	MangaPlaza PR	https://www.facebook.com/61563294480911/	354	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch More	mangaplaza.com	CAROUSEL		https://mangaplaza.com/special/z202412-001-ilove/?argument=baN2Ldxx&dmai=a676bb9b7d0f4b&utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=display&utm_campaign=mp2_promo_FB_{{campaign.name}}_{{adset.name}}_{{ad.name}}_0303002345	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471728916_1131747891747366_6722573114008295830_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ma-9A5Hs4ecQ7kNvgHgbLlA&_nc_oc=AditLcz4VM_i4DtF37SBNQvnqFKyVucST_BzaSMEhr6y_oC7GZpq7L0Ogtdb1jOYmSvJNVYl67K6trVh7D8pYrW9&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AJBhHVlogKKYPk09pQvFV0-&oh=00_AYDyfuTwKuk5bBaOA2ipaKq2-TPnTJDy0yaRneJS6GrJQQ&oe=67CBE400	PERSON_PROFILE	0	MangaPlaza PR	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,759,702	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775		If confidence makes you clutch your pearls, I suggest you log off. This jock? Just a cherry on top of what’s to come. But let’s be real— This isn’t just about showing skin. It’s about shedding fear, unlearning shame. About standing fully in who I am: a smart, sexy, strong, unapologetic Black gay man who refuses to shrink himself for anyone’s quixotic comfort. For too long, we’ve been told to tone it down, don’t be cringe, fit in, play small. But why should I—when I was built to stand out? If that shocks you, good. If it inspires you, even better! And if it turns you on? Well… you’re human. 😏 So here’s to living louder, loving harder, and never, ever dimming your own damn shine to make the jealous haters who’re too afraid to step out onto the field and stand out. Friday feels like the perfect time to give the world notice: I am that man, and I am just getting started. . . . . . . . . #friday #flex #thirst #truth #authentic #lovemehateme #sexy #muscle #body #black #gay #strong #pride #lgbt #instagay #instagram	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/beau_demayo	beau_demayo	https://www.instagram.com/_u/beau_demayo	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	instagram.com	IMAGE		http://instagram.com/beau_demayo	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-2.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/482025585_1144718576864979_1839809027038802091_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=b75sGWq5PqUQ7kNvgHuut2N&_nc_oc=AdhgwvaffzxnIpNcDqVW_Kxd_6ySd2ukgNH1iauPjgJRn09nrer0VHacaZbUMGN4RpY_7_sRa3qzzHzusGdzN2bb&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYD6ThXYXWJQbKpcIroivXD5itugBIW71I977VhwvTjadg&oe=67CBC920	IG_ADS_IDENTITY	1	beau_demayo	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,759,627	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2759095}'	No	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	Dứt Điểm Tình Trạng Tóc Gãy Rụng	🔰 CAM KẾT HẾT HÓI - HẾT THƯA - HẾT GÃY RỤNG CHỈ 1 LIỆU TRÌNH ✅ Rụng tóc không nguy hiểm, nhưng chữa trị không đúng cách sẽ làm tình trạng gãy rụng nặng hơn, thậm chí dẫn đến hói vĩnh viễn. =>> Tự hào là đơn bị duy nhất chuyển giao độc quyền công nghệ rụng tóc MESOLUX tại Việt Nam 🔰 Điều trị cho cả Nam và Nữ gặp các tình trạng: + Tóc hói đỉnh đầu, hói chữ M, hói bẩm sinh. + Tóc thưa, tóc mỏng. + Tóc gãy, tóc rụng nhiều do hậu covid gây ra. 🔰 CAM KẾT: - Tóc mọc nhanh, chắc khỏe - Dứt điểm tình trạng tóc gãy rụng, xơ yếu - Nang tóc phát triển gấp 10 lần - Kích thích tóc con mọc 3500 - 4500 sợi, không gãy rụng - Tóc mọc đồng nhất không khác biệt so với tóc cũ - Tiết kiệm chi phí - Tiết kiệm thời gian Để lại tình trạng để nhận tư vấn 1:1 từ bác sĩ -----------------❖❖❖--------------- ☎️Hotline: 0912.499.426	MESSAGE_PAGE		Viện Da Liễu Mercy - Chuyên Khoa Điều Trị Rụng Tóc Công Nghệ Cao	https://www.facebook.com/MercyClinicc/	237	1969-12-31 18:00	Send message		VIDEO			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481172658_659294023189313_1412373827599203120_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=UfgGOkECsbAQ7kNvgGrWve5&_nc_oc=Adhc0_IhH-MsDa1t2gkI0HNkb4qHmlbkV1AQBb0FxWTrhaeBrU-bkzwFj0ZHC8zdbjycamsyUtz5W7fA_zfnhAuH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ALEvd7ORLJ7l-AfxOUoYtr_&oh=00_AYBY7CAPFu_r_NQ_w-4xa9uCZ4deTYnnAw0cYYLw_SEWmg&oe=67CBE72F	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Viện Da Liễu Mercy - Chuyên Khoa Điều Trị Rụng Tóc Công Nghệ Cao	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,759,596	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2759095}'	Yes	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	NHẬN QUÀ SỨC KHỎE -> ĐỂ LẠI PHONE NGAY 👉👉	Bà con #ĐAU_NHỨC_XƯƠNG_KHỚP ,#THOÁI_HÓA_KHỚP ,#THOÁT_VỊ_ĐĨA_ĐỆM CÓ TIN VUI RỒI!! Em Thanh Tùng xin phép chia sẻ tới bà con giải pháp CẢI THIỆN XƯƠNG KHỚP SAU 14 NGÀY đã được rất nhiều anh chị làm Spa, làm Hãng tin dùng đây bà con ơi!!! ❌Không phải là thuốc ❌Không tốn tiền khám chữa ❌Không gây phụ thuộc vào sản phẩm 📞Nhắn tin/ Comment ngay TÌNH TRẠNG để được hỗ trợ lập tức 📍HOÀN 1O.OOO💲 NẾU PHÁT HIỆN HÀNG GIẢ, HÀNG NHÁI, HAY CHỨA CHẤT CẤM. ------------------------------------------------------- ✅Tái tạo mô sụn xương khớp. ✅Cải thiện tình trạng đau nhức mỏi các xương, khớp chỉ sau 14 ngày. ✅Bảo vệ sức khỏe tim mạch, giảm nguy cơ đột quỵ. ✅Giúp sản sinh dịch nhờn tránh bị khô khớp. ✅Sử dụng được cho người cao huyết áp, tiểu đường, mỡ máu, gout. ------------------------------------------------------- 🏅Sản phẩm quốc tế: Có mặt trên ở nhiều quốc gia như Mỹ, Nhật, Hàn,... 🏅Chứng nhận uy tín: FDA Hoa Kỳ, ISO 22000. 🏅Áp dụng công nghệ hiện đại của Hoa Kỳ vào trong sản phẩm 🎁CHỈ CÒN 59 SUẤT QUÀ CHO ANH CHỊ NHANH TAY NHẤT 📞Nhanh tay để lại số PHONE hoặc nhắn tin vào PAGE Zextra Sure Thanh Tùng - Tinh Hoa Sữa Non, Khỏe Mạnh Xương Khớp #ZextraSure #suanon #suaxuongkhop #healthycare #healthylife #suckhoetoandien #vitamin #xuongkhopchackhoe #thanhtung #thanhtungzextrasure #xuongkhoptkh #america #nguoiviettaimy	MESSAGE_PAGE		Zextra Sure Thanh Tùng - Tinh Hoa Sữa Non, Khỏe Mạnh Xương Khớp	https://www.facebook.com/thanhtungzextra/	382	1969-12-31 18:00	Send message		VIDEO			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481282032_955312006802089_4165465474841531935_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=jTik-hg5eMUQ7kNvgH6ZWkx&_nc_oc=Adj31gZh1lnba13xasB8qlA_oj5RvKq64SScykKEkM49A9pz9YczAVXR3Th7gn1DxTCRl3Lkk_Sc_u6xG8vFqK2D&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AnjzIxDfVcljYEac5syLYAA&oh=00_AYAMPR9BD04T0YElVJ6Je8EqodGL1EAEoYKBKYswZe4t7g&oe=67CBDB69	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Zextra Sure Thanh Tùng - Tinh Hoa Sữa Non, Khỏe Mạnh Xương Khớp	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,760,149	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	Sing for the Cure!	Join us for a powerful and unforgettable performance of Sing for the Cure, a 60-minute, 11-song choral masterpiece featuring a full orchestra and a chorus of over 200 voices. This special event will also include performances by renowned guest artists Ann Hampton Callaway and Maria Howell. Based on true stories of breast cancer survivors, Sing for the Cure captures the resilience, hope, and strength of those who have faced this life-altering challenge. With stirring harmonies from the large chorus and the brilliance of orchestral accompaniment, each piece brings to life the courageous journeys of survivors, creating a moving and emotional experience for all. Acclaimed singer-songwriter and Tony-nominated performer Ann Hampton Callaway, along with Maria Howell, an internationally recognized vocalist and actress, will lend their extraordinary talents to this performance. This is an opportunity for our community to unite, celebrate life, and honor those touched by breast cancer. Don’t miss this incredible, life-affirming musical event featuring these outstanding guest artists.	LEARN_MORE	https://www.gmccharlotte.org/sing-for-the-cure-202	Gay Men's Chorus of Charlotte	https://www.facebook.com/gmccharlotte/	3,897	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	gmccharlotte.org	IMAGE	Join us for a powerful and unforgettable performance of Sing for the Cure, a 60-minute, 11-song choral masterpiece featuring a full orchestra and a chorus of over 200 voices.	https://www.gmccharlotte.org/sing-for-the-cure-2025	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481043489_1586053138713588_1749584887635404693_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=I7L7BYSFoBEQ7kNvgHZCI2w&_nc_oc=AdhhLQw9RlVBGVXI9jca1IicYnzC8RxbEfhUjhMigCcf0roLBem_i9lOKcvisd0qpVR60eQKGK4ViM-klUxzxsGm&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=Ahr8vMrJccRqJMxn9sL-RWL&oh=00_AYCfJko0gCcLMSiXuJUJHGG1ceBfQ3zrCpFPoMtJfHtkhg&oe=67CBDCFA	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Gay Men's Chorus of Charlotte	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,759,729	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	The murder and legacy of the world’s first openly gay imam – podcast	All of us at #GlobalDigitalReleasing would like to extend our greatest sympathies to the family of Imam Muhsin Hendricks, who was assassinated in early February. To support the filmmakers and learn more about the incredible impact left by Hendricks, stream #TheRadical on Prime Video and the Tubi app ❤️🏳️‍🌈 https://www.theguardian.com/news/audio/2025/feb/24/the-and-legacy-of-the-worlds-first-openly-gay-imam-podcast		https://www.theguardian.com/news/audio/2025/feb/24	Global Digital Releasing	https://www.facebook.com/GlobalDigitalReleasing/	1,645	1969-12-31 18:00		theguardian.com	IMAGE	How did Imam Muhsin change the lives of queer Muslims? Jamie Fullerton reports	https://www.theguardian.com/news/audio/2025/feb/24/the-and-legacy-of-the-worlds-first-openly-gay-imam-podcast	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481194578_1190650759308766_3822063110070528382_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=roXknRoSLK4Q7kNvgEigML6&_nc_oc=AdhQgLCIJ6knzcIzNRIOradXwppFp5Xwn88ir_h8P95-lX_NtxlFk5EdngwbI641HTqCLwsZOgPQ8dC7AK9JPHN-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=Al15WNuCt8w_geiY3m0YXH1&oh=00_AYAvaWGOFfY4q0xxlMZ5oiu3t8AiwTg-yI5QK1iBjSCz4g&oe=67CBE804	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Global Digital Releasing	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,759,192	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2759191}'	Yes	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	🔞🔥Click to Read more about📜Captive of my mafia crush📜	💖🔞💋I worked as a stri*pper to help pay my boyfriend's debts and cover our rent, but he despised my profession and said it was disgusting and impure. Worse, he sold me to the mob and told them I was a vir-gin to increase my value. I was bought at the auction and the buyer was no other than my brother's best friend, and also my childhood crush. Him: My little one, I would never take my eyes off you. ----- "I don’t like the idea of my girl stripping, Iris,” my boyfriend Steven says, glaring at me with his arms crossed. “It’s disgusting and impure. And I need my girl to be pure.” Steven is my college sweetheart – we’ve been dating for nine months, even though he’s graduated. He's very disciplined and reserved, the son of a pastor, though he’s very good to me. He's always stressed that we'll wait until the night of our wedding to be intimate, which makes me feel so respected and safe. On top of that, he's made millions of dollars trading cryptocurrencies. As someone who grew up with nothing, that financial security makes me feel so protected. He’s the most generous and intelligent guy I'd ever met and I’m so lucky to be with him. "Steven,” I reply, “I swear to god I would never do anything to betray you at the club – I just dance." I kiss his cheek. "But I'm running late, and we need to pay rent. Everything will be fine." Lately Steven's tied up his money in some crypto investments. To ensure the best returns, he’s invested everything he has and is staying with me for the moment. He’s been working so hard for the last month, but it’s taking a toll on him. He rarely takes phone calls, doesn’t really leave our place, and he drinks more alcohol than he used to to calm his nerves as he stares at his computer almost all day long. So, I took up a couple shifts at the strip club to cover us in the meantime. I am a university student in hotel management, but dancing is in my nature - at first it was a weight loss goal as a teenager, then it was a way to hold on to thoughts of my mom, and then it became part of who I am. Unfortunately, there’s no money in cltootshieical ballet, my favorite. So, even though it wasn't what Steven wanted, I took a part-time gig at a strip club and I give Steven my salary to help with his business. Being an exotic dancer wasn’t my first choice either, but if I can make money from idiots who want to shove their hard-earned dollars into my g-string? I don’t see any shame in that. Eventually I convinced Steven that this is true – my dancing is just an investment in his company. I am glad he’s letting me help – I just want to do whatever I can to get our life started. I arrive at the club at 8:00 on the dot, smiling at Pete, my manager, who gives me a nod. The music pounds through the low-lit club and I note that it’s busier than usual tonight. Some of the other dancers wave to me and I wave back, but I make a beeline right for Anthony, who’s already got a big smile on his face just for me. “Hey cutie,” he says, pulling me close as I slip behind the bar and wrap my arms around his waist. “Hey gorgeous,” I say, laughing up at him. Anthony – he is gorgeous, but alas, my heart belongs to Steven. And even if it didn’t, Anthony is as gay as a purple handbag. Still, he’s my best friend here, and I love when his bartending shift overlaps with my dancing. “What’s going on tonight?” I ask as he slings an arm around my shoulders. There’s a busy, exciting vibe and the dancers all have on their flashiest outfits, their best perfume. “Nothing escapes you, does it, baby?” Anthony replies, I grin at the compliment. “Rumor has it big shots are coming in – mob guys, the real deal. Some are saying that the Mafia King is going to make an appearance.” “Whoa,” I say, my eyes going wide. “Seriously? Isn’t he…dangerous?” “Only if you go against him,” Anthony says with a shrug. “I heard he took out his own brother,” I whisper, leaning close to Anthony and looking around anxiously, like he’s already here. “That he’s completely ruthless –“ Anthony just laughs, shaking his head. “Iris, just don’t do anything to piss him off. For us? The presence of the Mafia King in our club just means money,” he says, grinning. “So, I’ll finally be able to afford that Botox I’ve been dreaming about, and you can hand your tootshiehole boyfriend an even bigger check than you usually do!” “Shut up,” I say, scowling and smacking my friend half-heartedly on the chest. Anthony, like Emi, isn’t Steven’s biggest fan. “I won’t get any of the money anyway,” I sigh. “Pete never puts me in the VIP room on nights like this.” “Because you,” Anthony says, teasing me, “only like to shake your little booty – you’re never willing to let anyone touch it –“ “Ew!” I wrinkle my nose at Anthony even as I push away, laughing and hoisting my bag higher on my shoulders. “I’m not letting some old mafia lech touch me for a couple of extra bucks –“ “For how much these guys are going to drop?” Anthony says, raising an eyebrow at me. “heck, I’ll let them touch me.” Laughing again, I wave over my shoulder and head for the dressing room. Anthony calls after me, wishing me luck. I blow him a kiss as I move through the curtain. It’s always better working here on nights like this, when everyone’s in a good mood, even if I am anxious about the prospect of the Mafia King being here. I mean, he’s been all over the news, and where he goes? Violence seems, inevitably, to follow. The good mood in the room completely changes all of a sudden when Lily – our top dancer – gives a little moan and collapses to the floor. Our manager Pete is through the curtain a minute later with some of our bouncers, who pick Lily up and carry her to the back. Pete’s pissed though. He spins, looking around the room with his arms crossed “You!” he says suddenly, pointing at me. My eyes go wide. “Irene! Come here!” “Iris,” I correct, and then I bite my lip with anxiety when Pete rolls his eyes like it doesn’t matter and beckons me closer. “You’re going into VIP for Lily tonight,” he snaps. His eyes flick over me. “And I don’t want to hear any of your bulldang about just being a dancer, all right? ” He spins me around, shoving me towards the door. “Now get out there and remember what I said - the only answer you have for these mafia bosses is yes.” My legs shake as I walk towards the curtain. .............................................................................. “Welcome to the stage…Bambi!” The DJ says, using my stage name. Dancing comes naturally to me – music has always made me feel at home in my body, and when the music is sexy? Well, then I feel sexy too. I whip my hair back at the crescendo of the music, my eyes moving directly to the man in the money seat directly in front of me, who paid a great deal to be there. As I move my body in slow, sultry ways, the spotlight is on me, which means that I can’t see the details of the VIP’s face. But even without specifics, I can tell that this is the most important man in the room. He just radiates power. My breath hitches when I look over the powerful lines of his muscled silhouette. If the Mafia King is here, this is definitely him. He looks like a man who belongs in the shadows, and even though there are other men here, I feel like I’m dancing just for him. The Mafia King’s eyes are fastened on me as I get my six-inch heels beneath my body and slowly raise myself into the air tootshie-first. I let him get a good look at every bit of me before I smirk, and turn, and move to the pole. Am I imagining it in the darkness? Or is there something…familiar about the way he watches me? I let the thought fade, concentrating instead on pulling out all my best tricks. And as I hook my leg around the pole, spinning myself and letting my hair flare out wide, I see that these tricks are working tonight. Shouts and whistles begin, and the Mafia King leans forward to lay a stack of bills on the stage in front of him. I almost stutter to a stop. Seriously? That much cash, this early in my dance? He leans back in his chair, raising a dark eyebrow at me, inviting me to show him more. So, I do. I pick up my pace, arching my back as I spin around the pole, climbing up it and sliding slowly down. As my song ends I’m excited to see that there’s quite a bit more money on top of the pile. “Thanks,” I murmur, crawling across the last bit of stage towards him. “I’m glad you liked my dance.” There really is something familiar about his blue-grey eyes… I reach for the stacks, but suddenly a meaty hand slams another pile of money down next to it, startling me. “Double what he’s put down, honey,” the man grinds out, leering, “and I’ll take you in the back for a private dance.” “Sorry,” I say, casting my lashes down. “I’m just a stage girl.” I know Pete said to give these guys whatever they wanted, but I’m really not comfortable touching anyone. “Oh, come on,” the man says, grabbing my chin with his thick fingers and pulling my face up. The Mafia King is immediately on his feet. “Pretty tart like you? I bet you can do more than just dance –“ I gasp, pulling my face from his hands as I slide off the edge of the stage, wanting to get away from him as soon as possible. “I said,” the man growls, grabbing me and slapping me in the face with the handful of bills, “that I want you, you little tart. And I’m willing to pay for it, so you’d better screwing –“ I shriek, trying to push away from the man, but he’s so much bigger than me! Suddenly the man shouts and falls away, his grip making me stumble forward. When I find my feet, my eyes go wide to see the Mafia King straightening up, blood on his knuckles. The man who grabbed me - he’s laying on the floor and there’s blood pouring from his mouth. “Oh my god,” I gasp. “Get him out of here!” the Mafia King shouts over to the bouncers, and then he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket as he turns to glare at me, wiping off his hand. I flinch back a step, surprised by the venom in his eyes. “Here,” the Mafia King says, dropping my arm and lifting his stack of bills off the stage alongside the two stacks. “Take it, get out of here.” “Wha…” I breathe as he shoves the money into my hands. “But I…” “Trust me, Bambi,” he says, his voice dry. “You earned it. Now screwing go.” He turns away, putting himself between me and the bouncers, and I turn and run for the bar, ducking behind it. Anthony gapes at me. “Are you all right!?” “Anthony…” I whisper, holding up the piles of cash in my hands, staring at them in awe. “Holy dang Iris!” Anthony whispers, stepping closer and staring at the money. “Look at all that screwing cheddar! For a dance!?” “I know!” I squeak, “this is going to get us so close to paying off the debt –“ Anthony groans, wiping a hand down his face. “What?” I ask, frowning up at him. “I just wish you’d spend it on yourself, Iris, instead of that deadbeat.” “Anthony,” I sigh, my shoulders slumping. “I’m not explaining this to you again.” He rolls his eyes as I sit down on the little stool at the back of the bar. I always hang out with Anthony after my dances, but if he’s going to be mean I’ll just quietly count my cash. While I do, I mentally compose an email that I’ll send to my old friend Christian later. Christian – he would understand. He was my brother’s best friend growing up. Even though he only saw me as a little sister, he always understood me more than anyone else. Plus, he called me Daisy, and I just loved that. I stayed in touch with Christian after he moved away suddenly – but he never replied. And even though I’m sure he doesn’t read my emails…well, I keep up the habit for fun. Inwardly, I debate how to tell Christian about my night. I want to tell him about my triumph – I’ve always wanted Christian to be proud of me. But I do fudge the truth a little in my emails. For instance, I write that I’m a company dancer, which is true… I just don’t mention that my style of dance is exotic, not ballet anymore. I smirk a little, excited to tell Christian that I impressed a powerful client and got a big bonus. But how would he feel, really, if I told him that the client was the Mafia king? I sigh, thinking that Christian probably wouldn’t be happy. He always wanted me to be safe, and dancing for the Mafia King? I’m sure Christian wouldn’t approve. I’m halfway through deciding precisely how to word my email when I hear my name. “Is that Iris?” Two men peer around the edge of the bar. Anthony steps in front of me as I shy away. How did they know my real name? I always go by Bambi here. “Who’s asking?” Anthony asks, wary. “None of your business,” the taller of the brutes says, shoving Anthony aside and stepping forward, looming over me. “Hand over that cash, little girl. You’ve been sold - you work for Don Bonetti now.” My jaw drops almost to the floor. .............................................................................. I stare at the two men in shock, clutching the money to my chest. “What – what the heck are you talking about!?” “Your little boyfriend,” the smaller guy says, sneering and pushing Anthony away when he tries to get to my side. “He sold you to Don Bonetti as part of his debt.“ “What!?” I shout, jumping to my feet. The cat house!? They’re trying to make me work as a prostitute!? I stumble backwards, my back pressing into the countertop at the back of the bar. “There must be some mistake – you have the wrong girl –“ “No, we don’t,” the first guy says, reaching out and grabbing my arm. “Iris Scott? Yeah, your boyfriend Steven showed us a picture. We knew you the second you stepped on stage.” He leans closer now, leering into my face. “We also know where you go to school, and where your best friend lives – so don’t even try to escape.” “Here,” the second guy says, shoving a phone towards me, the video already playing. My attention is immediately fastened on the screen, because I recognize the voice I hear. I gasp, realizing that it’s Steven. I lean forward, staring at the video, which shows Steven sitting on the couch. He’s crying, a gun pointed at him, and he’s begging the two men standing before him – telling them to take whatever they want, he just needs more time. My eyes go wide when I hear the next words spill from his mouth, because he offers them me. Steven tells them everything that I’m a stripper and where I work. When he tells them how much money I bring in every month, their eyebrows go up. One of the mobsters on the screen makes a phone call – maybe confirming the details? I don’t know. In the video, Steven babbles on, revealing information that shocks me to the core. Steven's entrepreneurial ventures are all a façade. He was secretly performing some backdoor accounting for the mafia. But he embezzled the mafia funds, thinking he could buy and sell crypto without them noticing and keep the profits for himself! Suddenly, everything makes sense - Steven insisting we get a new apartment really fast, Steven staying inside all the time, Steven drinking more, Steven allowing me to earn money to pay off his debt while he stays in the house staring at the computer all day... “She’s – she’s a virgin too!” Steven stumbles out in the video, his eyes frantic. “That will be worth more, won’t it? You can like – action off her v-card to the highest bidder!” I blush and an angry huff of air falls from my lips, not only because that’s a lie but because my boyfriend is actually trying to sweeten the pot! Not only is Steven not fighting for me - he’s trying to get more out of the deal by convincing these mobsters that I’m worth more! In the video, the mobster gets off the phone and nods to the guy with the gun. Then all three agree to the deal. Me – all of me, forever, to do whatever they want with – for half of Steven’s debt. I go pale at that, because either Steven has sold me for a couple of grand, or he is way, way more in debt than I thought he was. “That’s enough,” the smaller man in front of me snaps, ripping the phone away as the big guy grabs me by the shoulders. “You’re coming with us, pretty girl. Time to get to work.” “Get your hands off me!” I shout, trying to kick, to rip free – anything. “It’s the twenty-first century! You can’t just buy girls from their boyfriends! This is ridic-“ I shriek, pushing hard at his chest. The big man glances at the smaller man when he sees that I’m frantic, that I won’t go peacefully. “Get the rabble bag on the phone.” Suddenly Steven’s Facetime is flashing before me. “Steven!” I gasp as his face appears on the screen. “What’s – what’s happening!? Tell these guys to get off of me! I –“ “Iris,” Steven sighs, but a nasty little sneer in his voice steals my voice. I go perfectly still, staring at him. “I told you I didn’t want your dirty money anyway – but you insisted. You dug your own grave with this one.” My blood runs absolutely cold, wiping out even the fear from my veins. “Tell them to get their hands off me, Steven,” I growl, glaring at him. “If you don’t want my dirty money, fine, but I am not paying another dang cent to your dirty debt –“ “Why don’t you go cry to that ‘old friend’ you’re always emailing,” Steven snaps, his voice nasty. “He’ll get you out of it, won’t he?” He leans forward to the camera. My jaw drops open because – I mean, I have told Steven so much about how my childhood friendship with Christian means to me, how much I miss him. But I never expected him to throw it in my face like this. “Just as I thought,” Steven says, rolling his eyes. “You’re just a tart, Iris. Always mooning on about your childhood crush, more dedicated to a memory than to me. If you really did love me, you’d go with these guys willingly to help me pay of this debt! Guess that was a lie too. I always knew you were a hooker – that you worked at that strip club because you like getting these rabble bags off –“ “Shut your god dang mouth, Steven,” I snap, and to my surprise he does, turning back to the phone to stare at me. Because I never, ever talk to him like that. “At least Christian would never have treated me this way. But I am going to make you pay for this,” I hiss, “if it is the last thing I ever do.” “Yeah, yeah,” the guy holding me says, jerking me away from the phone. “That’s enough – come on, let’s go.” The smaller guy ends the call and the big guy starts to haul me away, but I kick and scream, demanding that they get their dang hands off of me. Suddenly, the sound of a champagne cork pops, and I gasp as champagne sprays over me, dripping down from above. The guy holding my arms shouts and drops me, starting to wipe at his face into which a stream of champagne is flowing – “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Anthony’s voice rings out. “How could this have happened!? I’m so clumsy!” But I don’t have time to look at Anthony, or to try to understand the diversion he set up for me - because the big man has dropped my arms. And I screwing run. .............................................................................. I say a little prayer of thanks to Anthony as I bolt, clutching my money and throwing myself through the curtain at the back of the bar. Behind me I hear shouting and the sound of something that sounds like a fist on flesh – God, I hope Anthony is okay – But there’s no time to worry about him. I hear another shout as I’m halfway down the hall and I suddenly realize that there’s no way I’m getting into the dressing room without those two jerks seeing me if they give chase. So, I make a split decision and grab the knob to the rarely-used closet I know is here, whipping it open and hurling myself in. Suddenly, a sound erupts back in the club.BANG BANG! I gasp, slapping my hands over my ears. God, it sounds like fireworks were lit off inside the club – or like gunshots. Screams erupt in the VIP room, and girls in the dressing room start to shout and panic as well. I gasp, pressing myself deeper into the dark closet, listening to pounding footsteps running up and down the hall as everyone tries to run out. “She must have gone on to the dressing room!” A deep voice shouts just outside the closet door. I bite my lip as hope rushes through me, because that sounded a lot like the big guy. “What the screw are you doing in my club?!” My breath freezes in my chest. My hope is dashed, because that’s Pete, my manager – and he’s stopped right outside the closet door. “Get the screw out of here! This is a respectable joint – you can’t come in here and -“ “Listen, tootshiehole,” the big guy snarls. I can’t help peering through the crack in the door. The big guy grabs Pete by the collar, curling his bicep so that Pete is basically dangling from his fist, his feet scrabbling for purchase on the floor. “We do whatever we want in here, okay?” the big brute snaps, leaning in close to Pete’s face so that it’s sprayed with spittle. I go pale then as mobster pulls a gun out of his suit jacket, pointing it right at Pete’s head. “Now,” he says, his voice dangerous and soft. “You show me where that girl went.” “This way –“ Pete’s voice squeaks, his face turning red with fear and lack of air. “I’ll show you –“ Silently, I curse Pete for being a traitor like Steven – though honestly, with a gun to his head, I’m not sure that’s entirely fair. The big guy lowers Pete, and Pete darts forward, leading him to the dressing room. I shriek suddenly, my head flying up as I hear two more gunshots and the door whips open. My eyes are wide with terror as I look, expecting the brute, or his smaller, smarmy friend – But this man – he’s neither of them – he has dark hair that falls into his eyes, and I gasp in surprise when I see that his shirt is covered in blood. “Come on, Bambi,” the man snaps, his voice dry as he reaches into the closet and tugs me by the wrist, making me stumble forward into the hall. I tripping on something on my way out of the closet and my mouth falls immediately open when I catch a glimpse of a body laying in the doorway to the dressing room, blood all around its head – I can’t fully see at this distance, but I gasp because I’d swear it’s the big brute, the one who was chasing me. But before I can even look any closer the man tugs me up straight before his shoulder hits me in the stomach and I am lifted up into the air over it, hoisted high as he wraps his arm around the back of my thighs. He holds me tight as he starts to stride back towards the club. “Let me down!” I shout, pounding on his back as best I can with my hands still full of my cash. He just shakes me, frustrated, trying to get me to shut up and stop moving as he strides the length of the club, where patrons and dancers are shouting, fleeing for the doors. I shout along with them, my words mingling with theirs, but this man completely ignores me. My cries are frantic as I continue to pound on his man’s back – who is he!? Does he work for the Mafia Don who bought me – is he taking me to the tart house!? I struggle and kick, but I go absolutely still with shock when the man spanks me hard on my mostly-bare tootshie with the flat of his palm. “Stay still, Bambi,” he orders, laughing, his voice cold. “You’re making this way harder than it needs to be.” I’m still gaping in shock as he carries me right out the front door. I turn my head in both directions, trying to see where he’s taking me, and a black SUV skids to a stop immediately in front of the club. The man carrying me doesn’t break his stride, instead carrying me around the car and wrenching the back door open to toss me bodily inside. He slams the door shut behind me and I pant, my head spinning with anxiety. But I gasp again when I hear someone clear their throat, pressing myself back against the car door when I realize that there is already someone sitting in the dark of the back seat. I go perfectly still as my eyes rove over the figure, which as much man as it is predator. Broad-shouldered, the man lounges in apparent ease in the seat across from me, his tall frame corded with muscle, power dripping from every inch of him. Though he sits in darkness, a shaft of light crosses in a streak across his face, revealing those blue eyes that I recognize… My jaw drops open when I realize that…that it’s the Mafia King. Who…who is this man? Why am I in his car? Because…the Mafia King is different from Don Bonetti, who apparently owns me now – in fact, they’re famous rivals. So why… I jump, suddenly, when the front ptootshieenger door wrenches open and the man who carried me leaps in. “Let’s screwing go!” he shouts. “Hit it, Frankie!” My head snaps to the driver – is that Frankie? – who nods and slams his foot down on the gas, the car ripping forward away from the club. I start to shake now, both from the cold outside of the club as well as my fear – Who are these men? What do they want with me? Are they…are they going to make me… “Well, Bambi,” the man on the other side of the car says, bringing my eyes immediately back to him. His voice oddly accents my stage name like he knows it’s fake. “You sure as heck started a lot of trouble for me tonight. We’re going to have to -” But his words are interrupted by a huge crash and my scream as the rear window of the car shatters, the sound of gunshots echoing in the air. .............................................................................. I scream again, covering my head and ducking down as low as I can go, my feet drifting over the back seat and kicking the Mafia King in the thigh – “screwing go, Frankie!” the Mafia King shouts, “they’re on our god dang tail!” “Get down!” the Mafia King shouts, ducking and throwing his body over mine as Frankie pulls the car hard to the right, our tires squealing on the road. I scream then, I think, curl back up into my ball, muttering prayers I haven’t said since I was a kid in Catholic grade school, and which I didn’t really believe then. But now I’m begging anyone who might be out there listening to please, please save my life. The bullets stop, and I feel the Mafia King’s weight lift off of me. I start to raise my own head, but suddenly our whole car wrenches to the side and I can tell, somehow, that we’ve been hit from behind. “screwing turn, Frankie!” the Mafia King shouts, frantic, pulsing more bullets out of the broken window. “I can’t – there’s no place to –“ “Onto 42(nd) street!” the guy in the ptootshieenger seat shouts, his voice frustrated and sharp with fear. “On it!” Frankie shouts now, wrenching the wheel to the side so sharply that the whole car bends to the right – The car turns up on two wheels and I shout in fear as my body slides across the back seat. Lights flash across the windows and horns blare, because Frankie is cutting off a whole line of traffic to make the turn. My shout turns to a scream as I go completely airborne, but suddenly hands snatch me, one grabbing my waist, the other flying to my head and covering my skull the moment before it smacks into the gltootshie of the window – I gasp, my eyes flying open as I’m pulled into the Mafia King’s lap, and as my eyes meet his I realize that if his hand hadn’t been there to take the impact against the gltootshie, my brains would be all over this car right now. I stare into wide-eyed into his face, which is suddenly so close to mine. Our SUV rights itself onto four wheels and flies down the street, weaving madly between traffic. The Mafia King as he curses fluidly, ripping his gaze from mine and towards Frankie. He shakes his hand out to get rid of the pain. “Did we lose them!?” “You tell me, boss!” Frankie calls over his shoulder, and – with me still in his lap – the King twists, looking out the back window. I look too but… All I see are taxis, sedans. No sign of them. “For now,” the King growls, tense. “We’ve lost them for now.” He looks for a few more moments but then his body relaxes, just a little bit. He exhales sharply and turns back to the front of the car. “Brown Street apartment, Frank,” he says, cooler now than he was before. “We’ve got to lay low for a while.” “You got it,” Frankie says, still driving quickly but blending into traffic a little bit more now. After all, nothing screams criminal activity like flying through the city with a broken back window and a kidnapped stripper. It makes sense that they want to blend, now, so that we can disappear. So that we won’t be found by whoever was chasing us, for whatever reason. “Please,” I breathe, my voice shaky – and I surprise myself when I hear the word come from my lips. I said it without thinking. The Mafia King immediately turns his attention to me. “You can – you can have it all –“ I say, gesturing towards the cash scattered all over the back seat now, blowing lightly in the wind coming through the back window. “Just…let me go…” The Mafia King studies me for a long moment and the he smirks. “A third of that money was mine not long ago,” he says, his voice cold, calculating. “And I gave it up readily enough for a dance. What makes you think that that,” he says, nodding to the money on the seat and the floor, “is going to be enough to buy your freedom?” I hesitate, not knowing what the answer should be. “I’ll – I’ll get you more,” I mumble, desperate. “I can work –“ His smirk deepens and he stares at me, starting to shake his head a little, almost in…disbelief? I don’t know – I don’t get it. I can’t read his expression. “Please,” I beg, my voice soft as my eyes fill with tears. “Please don’t give me to Don Bonetti…don’t sell me to the cat house…” The Mafia King’s arm tightens around me as his face falls with sadness, pity even. And suddenly he’s cradling me against him, raising his hand and softly running his knuckles down my cheek, staring into my eyes. “Iris,” he murmurs, and I go still when I hear my name on his lips. And suddenly, I remember something. I was too distracted then, but he called me Iris before, didn’t he? After I finished dancing… Is he somehow connected to Bonetti too? “How…” I whisper, shaking my head at him in confusion, “how do you know my name?” “Iris…” he whispers, “don’t you recognize me?” I pull back a little, studying him, taking in the strong line of his lightly stubbled jaw, his straight nose, the blue-grey eyes under dark brows…. And as I stare at him I realize that there really is something familiar about him, especially about his eyes. I’m not just imagining it. But I can’t put together what… “You’re the Mafia King,” I murmur, frowning at him, willing my mind to put the pieces together. Because I’m missing something here, I just know it. “Yes, and?” he says, raising an eyebrow at me in a way that strikes some sort of memory. How – how the heck did I know he was going to raise his eyebrow like that? “And you…kidnapped me? To get…revenge? On Bonetti? Or because I saw someone get shot? Or…” He smiles at me, more broadly now, letting his eyes flick over my features. “I kidnapped you to protect you, Daisy.” My eyes widen as I hear my childhood nickname on his lips and everything snaps into place. Memories come flooding back to me in an instant. Late-summer twilights spent running through the back fields with the boy who called me Daisy, after my favorite flower. Sneaking out at midnight with my brother to go to the house next door, to play board games until dawn with the boy who lived there – where he taught me to play poker. A thousand winter afternoons building snow forts with my brother and with his laughing, blue-eyed best friend… “Christian,” I breathe, my fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. I stare at him unblinking, like he’ll disappear if I take my eyes off him for a second – like I’ll lose him again, forever this time. “Hey, my little one,” he murmurs, softly stroking my cheek. “I will never take my eyes off you. ”	LEARN_MORE	https://www.novel-oasis.com/share/middle/srbxz4zw5	Lereader-Perfect Novel	https://www.facebook.com/61550076675613/	692	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	www.novel-oasis.com	VIDEO		https://www.novel-oasis.com/share/middle/srbxz4zw5zy02jil3f2la2f3?ad_id={{ad.id}}&sid=120218211199980653&campaign={{campaign.name}}&adgroup={{adset.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481184675_1133322331819369_4296124067045457319_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4vtjWqWM2pkQ7kNvgHyKbLv&_nc_oc=Adhsn1q-7ni05uXD7_Ysemgf1wHgF9bvtBeNJr6OPE4bBkKBoCLSsTfcktztJTaygOKRmMLGeHMPKP53kxXwhPuP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AaoexfKZdUqnmtX_oN_5QzW&oh=00_AYB_VxBBKBdYgW7ujG3M2rb4IdpJCvmeIIryP4XXFWVWRA&oe=67CBBC0F	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Lereader-Perfect Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,759,372	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2759095}'	Yes	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	Lắc tay vàng L10398 được chế tác từ vàng 18K đủ tuổi ấn tượng bởi những mắt xích	Sự Tối Giản Hoàn Hảo Với sự kết hợp hoàn hảo giữa tối giản và sáng tạo, lắc tay vàng L10398 gây ấn tượng bởi những mắt xích vừa phải, tạo nên một phong cách thanh lịch và sang trọng. Sản phẩm được chế tác từ vàng 18K đủ tuổi, đảm bảo độ bền vượt trội và giá trị không thể phủ nhận 👉Hưng Phát USA kính mời Quý khách hàng đến tham dự sự kiện 22nd Anniversary diễn ra vào ngày 09/17/2023 sắp tới. Để có cơ hội trúng $100,000 cash cùng nhiều giải thưởng trang sức giá trị khác. #hungphatusa #kimcuongtunhien #vang18K #L10398 #jewelry #lactayvang #thietketrangsuctheoyeucau --------------💎--------------- ☀️Tận hưởng một mùa hè trọn vẹn cùng chương trình ưu đãi mua sắm hấp dẫn tại Hưng Phát USA: 🎁TẶNG NGAY từ $100 đến $500 Hung Phat Dollars khi mua sắm nữ trang và kim cương từ 4.5MM [Áp dụng với hóa đơn trên $3,000]. 📍Chương trình diễn ra từ ngày 08.01 - 08.31.2023 -----------💎-💎-💎--------------- 🔸Hưng Phát USA \| Your Diamond World🔸 📞 HOTLINE US: 1-408-299-0988 📞 HOTLINE VN: 1900 75 75 18 🏢 1111 Story Road, Suite 1063, San Jose, CA, Mỹ 214 Lê Thánh Tôn, P. Bến Thành, Quận 1, Sài Gòn 359 Hai Bà Trưng, P. Võ Thị Sáu, Quận 3, Sài Gòn	MESSAGE_PAGE		Hung Phat USA - Your Diamond World	https://www.facebook.com/HungPhatUSA/	8,973	1969-12-31 18:00	Send message		VIDEO			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/372742038_571857311656346_1203158806162238012_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=fhHeo0j9UQcQ7kNvgE46Wjc&_nc_oc=AdhbDuS_mnNuDHF_F_9mp95LHzTP8-hUcomSRuUxAov85-_Gnx5xOr_ylj1gt4FMHdD3r7hiYU3HwSHWbJpXVQOG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AP5_ue9W2BhNZed5Rj4A8HZ&oh=00_AYC8F9SHrfWXegpyXFHsjsV4Awc0WN6OhFmzhQsDgUj4iQ&oe=67CBB9D0	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Hung Phat USA - Your Diamond World	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,760,318	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	Leslie Liao - March 7th & 8th	It's a Leslie Liao weekend at Here - After March 7th and 8th! Join us for 4 shows with the stand-up comedian, actress, and writer, Leslie as she drawings from her unique experiences as a single Chinese-American woman navigating life in Los Angeles. Don’t miss her hilarious take on love, life, and everything in between—grab your tickets now! 🎟️	BUY_TICKETS	https://www.thecrocodile.link/p/0pnklsiu	Here-After	https://www.facebook.com/hereafterbelltown/	896	1969-12-31 18:00	Buy tickets	www.thecrocodile.link	VIDEO	www.ticketweb.com	https://www.thecrocodile.link/p/0pnklsiu	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/482029407_1145489007264067_7301416433562334837_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ZEpAQ0_AL_kQ7kNvgGbqCWo&_nc_oc=AdgkJ0TVP93vjxBfzsbt3Co_DEHWnQl6Vpstflr5ZcndMgFaINmqEgJ7FOcHy4VFU3w2kKjPMOsE_LjsOeA9qFnl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMahHubEDoc48EXLQ3bsycb&oh=00_AYDjxGLgkr1Kbh4hc0TWXCy3WiOXDPDWc7ZudwALmWossg&oe=67CBF7DC	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Here-After	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,760,086	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775		what？I'm your dad？ I make toptier bags at affordable price I need you advice before the drop dm me or leave comments thank you！#solopreneur #startup #backpack #branding #memes #viral #funnyvideos	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/robert_xiong_91	robert_xiong_91	https://www.instagram.com/_u/robert_xiong_91	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	instagram.com	VIDEO		http://instagram.com/robert_xiong_91	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-2.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/473444440_571253292565897_2123348814685293500_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=gi9mKuHFvAsQ7kNvgEHNo6z&_nc_oc=AdhUxwLOn90tH7BCfOwkFKmcNF7Yq3Xb9czNuzFZv9q0UiSbeIusH-aHgk7s-TYbiLDwS2xWKSJ5WHG0g_Wf5yD4&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYCUf4oYLk_y-YFTeatDFWG8UcLbln0urWaOJkjwZ2ahyg&oe=67CBC253	IG_ADS_IDENTITY	1	robert_xiong_91	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,759,823	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775		When a scammer tries to scam you but you have @getcontact 😂 Download Getcontact for FREE and stay one step ahead! 📲 #ad #prankcall	INSTALL_MOBILE_APP	http://itunes.apple.com/app/id1010631459	zar.the.star	https://www.instagram.com/_u/zar.the.star	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Install now	itunes.apple.com	VIDEO		http://itunes.apple.com/app/id1010631459	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-1.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/429514204_3364681917157181_2540374633068983448_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=1&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=vphnK-lJ8l0Q7kNvgHZimZ-&_nc_oc=AdjUCayqg0Xpu7LTEgpY-asQXVys1vlVsLYJS9wQke1hH3JObgjqN_Wa02zofczHjcyyUNJV8xdlsO2VoTVvP_b6&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYBGFkGKgNGakmLIhdPm84ZplK80HIfP-liRuT8SflJBKg&oe=67CBC423	IG_ADS_IDENTITY	1	zar.the.star	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,760,140	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2759618}'	Yes	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	To find out, listen to the audioseries 'The Duke's Masked Bride' (FREE for a limited period of time) Click on the link below to download the PocketFM app, now!	Listen to one of the most interesting audio series “The Duke's Masked Bride” Only on the PocketFM app. Download Now!	INSTALL_MOBILE_APP	http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.r	Blue Sea	https://www.facebook.com/100069599781612/	12,485	1969-12-31 18:00	Install Now	play.google.com	DCO	{{product.description}}	http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.radio.pocketfm	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481086606_1004958758188557_2134473109567000055_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oO15iI5jZEIQ7kNvgE2FY-N&_nc_oc=AdhmNokNHTAxBwJqYkIUX2TvElG0V5uBpXmjdQ5jXDmuRPpPreY6DgLrXpSUwlQCq6IZ-9oJLP0e1Yz6PcSxrgf2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Atv7gW5QYjvJHbCvni93biv&oh=00_AYCjPe0wIJCbmBNugKmYEjMe8vK4Tdu8YQmuieQdft8w8Q&oe=67CBC0DA	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Blue Sea	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,760,316	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	Sé bilingüe	¡Descubre un nuevo camino para ser cada día más bilingüe! 😉 En Open English, te acercamos a tu meta con clases en vivo ilimitadas 24/7, impartidas por profesores nativos. Además, nuestra plataforma cuenta con herramientas de inteligencia artificial que potenciarán tu aprendizaje. ¡No esperes más! Inscríbete hoy en OpenEnglish 🤩💻👩🏻‍💼🚀	SIGN_UP	https://www.openenglish.com/oferta-especial/	Open English	https://www.facebook.com/openenglish/	3,849,754	1969-12-31 18:00	Sign Up	openenglish.com	DCO	Aprovecha Oferta Especial🙈	https://www.openenglish.com/oferta-especial/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480912349_516544544809440_4783770731592359543_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=a3GBMtKZ6KAQ7kNvgEq25sA&_nc_oc=Adh3HVlnOUBK0dbf5gfZUVz7wM5lX-oj_HU-r10_XLIoausQR7T3B4F0MOV2gcODH3C-HomEjUzNG3ffs3z61bbM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMahHubEDoc48EXLQ3bsycb&oh=00_AYC65nP2iJ87CII4OP5an2zKJoHYS1xu4XJaGrAjQfb_uA&oe=67CBDFBB	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Open English	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,759,242	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2759095}'	No	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	Để lại số PHONE ---> Nhận ngay ưu đãi 50%	🌻 SERUM GIẢM K.Ý CHO CƠ ĐỊA KHÓ GIẢM – CƠ ĐỊA NHỜN THUỐC . + MADE IN USA CHÍNH HÃNG, 100% THẢO DƯỢC THIÊN NHIÊN –> ANH CHỊ NHANH TAY ĐỂ LẠI SỐ PHONE DR. CUONG ƯU ĐÃI 50% GIÁ TRỊ ĐƠN HÀNG ➡️ Giảm : M.ỡ Bụng – M.ỡ Đùi – M.ỡ Thừa Toàn Thân ➡️ GIẢM BẤT CHẤP cơ địa lâu năm và cơ địa lờn thuốc ➡️ Giảm cho các mẹ sau sinh bị tích tụ Mỡ ➡️ Không Gây Tác Dụng Phụ ➡️ Ăn uống bình thường –> ANH CHỊ NHANH TAY ĐỂ LẠI SỐ PHONE DR. CUONG ƯU ĐÃI 50% GIÁ TRỊ ĐƠN HÀNG DUY NHẤT TRONG HÔM NAY	MESSAGE_PAGE		DR. CUONG	https://www.facebook.com/61573416697533/	108	1969-12-31 18:00	Send message		VIDEO			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/482025330_1324471435364050_2350152320975735026_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LcIIAPRX0CgQ7kNvgHcEsPL&_nc_oc=AdioLSPsiKEtVNDAe1nCEhYi_kvoYJ4q3DUtxXSy8LgBdZugJEbL67TEgqBAz7SXkh5R-KG7P0vYtsULhP8cViQj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ANO2-tHX6ZUxaYqqV850QSN&oh=00_AYCblbZhMLbqWbn8UQvyNrZVmhb9PawgJRPKrhJbdAsRRA&oe=67CBDB08	PERSON_PROFILE	0	DR. CUONG	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,760,274	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2760268}'	Yes	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	Want more chapter?🔞👉	“You’re soaked,” Alpha Aden groans, kneeling between my legs. My wolf is clawing and clawing at me, desperate for his touch. But I can’t… Because he’s my boyfriend’s father. * I’d just about given up hope on ever feeling my heat. By the time most she-wolves were my age, they’d already settled down and had at least one pup. Instead, I felt like I was dead inside until I met Hudson a few months ago. He ignites a spark in me, something I think could be more. My love life is looking up, and I think I’m finally ready to take the next step. Not just because things were…awakened…today. But because Hudson is perfect. He’s sexy, thoughtful, attentive…. We can talk for hours about the books we love. And when I said I didn’t want to go too far too fast, he was okay with that. He’s never pushed for more than kissing. When I told him I wasn’t ready to have sex yet, he was okay and didn’t try to make me feel guilty. It made me like him even more. Today…today I’m ready. And I’m going to tell him. I take a sip of my cappuccino as I look at him. Goddess, he’s handsome. Tall and muscular but not too bulky, and I love how his curly chestnut hair falls into his green eyes. Hudson catches me staring at him as he reads, looking up and flashing me that sexy, playful grin of his. He sticks a receipt between the pages to mark his place, sets the book beside him on the couch, and then shifts his body to turn toward me. “Whatcha thinkin’, lovely?” My cheeks flush. “Do you really want to know?” “Always,” Hudson replies, placing a warm hand on my leg right above my knee. “I think I’m ready.” All of the air leaves my lungs as I finally say the words. Hudson’s eyes widen, and his fingers tighten on my leg. Before he can answer, movement over his shoulder catches my eye. One of the biggest dudes I’ve ever seen is standing at the end of a row of books, staring at us. Intently. He looks…scary. There’s something about him that dings my radar, even though I’m used to seeing criminals in the prison. He’s well over six feet tall, and his professional suit does nothing to disguise how bulky he is. My eyes are drawn to the cruel scar that runs diagonally over his face, almost splitting his nose in two. I sniff the air. Definitely a wolf shifter, too. So how does he have a scar like that? I can’t fathom what would have happened to permanently mark him like that. A shudder runs through me at the thought. “Hudson… There’s…a guy over there. And he’s staring right at us,” I say quietly. Hudson turns to look directly at the brawny guy, and I want to sink into the floor when the guy starts walking toward us. “Don’t worry about him,” Hudson answers, frustration in his voice. “Hudson, he’s looking right at—” “He’s with me. That’s Preston. He’s…my bodyguard.” Hudson shoots a glare at the huge guy, his brow furrowing. The guys stops walking toward us. “He usually does a better job of keeping out of sight.” Wait, what? He needs a bodyguard? My eyes go to the fancy watch he’s wearing today. I’d always assumed it was a knock-off, but now I’m not so sure… The questions are stacking up, and my wolf is on edge. What else is Hudson hiding? And why has none of this ever come up before on our dates? More importantly, how did I miss all of this? I’m a trained professional. Reading people and evaluating them is literally my job right now. If I can’t even read my own boyfriend, how will I ever succeed in my chosen profession. My stomach twists. “Just ignore him. My dad gets overprotective.” Hudson rolls his eyes. “Honestly, he’s so stressed out about safety that he could use a shrink like you to give him some counseling.” He laughs, then winks at me playfully. I can tell the conversation is over and I’m not going to get anything else out of him. “Anytime,” I mutter, nervously playing with my long red hair, worrying about the mismatch between Hudson’s apparent wealth and my poor grad student status. I’ve never met anyone who has a bodyguard. “Can I get you anything else?” Hudson and I look up at the barista smiling down at us, a handsome blond-haired guy with an apron tied around his waist. The guy’s timing couldn’t be worse. “No thanks, Chase,” I say, giving him a big grin at the same time Hudson smiles and says, “Can we both get refills?” “Oh, actually…” I look up at the clock and push my hair back behind my ears. If I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late for my job doing psych evaluations at the state prison. “She’ll take hers to go then,” Hudson says, rising from our sofa. He follows Chase back to the coffee counter to grab our drinks. I start to pack up my bag so I can grab the next train, when I notice Hudson’s phone vibrating on the table. When the number disappears, his home screen shows a family photo. The tall man in the back is certainly his dad, the other maybe an older brother? As I’m staring at the picture, the phone rings again—the same number. Must be important. I grab the phone and sling my bag over my shoulder, heading towards the coffee counter. But there’s no one here. I look around, confused. I definitely just saw Chase and Hudson head this way… There’s a noise from the back room, a strange and muffled thump and a moan. I take two steps forward and peek around the door. Maybe they both— Oh my god. Not two feet from me, my boyfriend presses Chase up against the wall of the storage room. One fist is wrapped in the fabric of Chase’s shirt, the other down Chase’s pants. He’s kissing him passionately, hungrily. Chase’s eyes are closed, his hands fumbling at the button and zipper of Hudson’s pants—whispering my boyfriend’s name. My heart stops for a few seconds as I stare at the scene in front of me. Then, rage takes over—masking the hurt starting to unfurl in my chest. “Are you kidding me!?” I’m not even thinking as I chuck the phone at Hudson and his lover. The guys jump, leaping apart. “Brooklyn— I—” Hudson’s face is full of shock. Tears in my eyes, I run from the room and from the coffee shop. “Brooklyn!” Hudson spills out onto the street behind me. “You don’t understand!” He grabs my arm, pulling me back to him. If ever I forgot he was a male wolf more powerful than me, I’m reminded of his strength now. “I really like you,” he says, his eyes filled with apology. “You’re amazing… It’s just that my family wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t approve—” He scrubs a hand over his face. “You know how some wolves are about this kind of thing. How some packs are. This…me and Chase… It’s complicated.” “So, what? You just want me to be your pretend girlfriend!?” I rip my arm from his hand. “Not interested.” “Please. I can make this right! How much do you want? One million? Three million?” He pulls out his phone, and I see him tap on a banking app. “I don’t want your money.” Hudson blinks in confusion, and I turn away. “I’ll keep your secret, and you don’t need to pay me off. I just don’t want to see you again.” Just like that, my possible fairy tale with Prince Charming was over. I hurry down the street, my eyes filling with angry tears. My wolf, Lena, is struggling to take over. She wants to go back and tear Hudson to shreds. His bodyguard would probably keep that from happening, though. But a girl can dream. I manage to make it on the train in time, sinking onto the bench and closing my eyes. My head falls back to rest against the window, and I take deep, calming breaths to re-center myself. Today couldn’t have gone any worse. No wonder I’m still a virgin…my instincts were so off that I’ve been dating a gay man. Nope. Not gonna wallow. Lena chuffs in agreement. * Two hours later, I’m seated at a plastic table in a cinder-block cell, my hands are resting on my paperwork in front of me, and my hair is tied back in what I hope is a professional look. My leg jitters with nerves. I need to shift, to run off this excess energy, these raging emotions. But I straighten up in my seat, taking a deep breath. I have to concentrate on my job now, and I’m incredibly tense about my next assignment. I’ve only been assigned basic white-collar criminals thus far. Some human, some wolf, none of them dangerous. But today I have to make an assessment of Aden Kenwood. He’s not just a formidable wolf; he’s a mafia king, too. His unmatched cruelty and the unbelievable lengths he’ll go to in order to protect his power are infamous in Grayling City. As a psychology grad student working on my real-life work assignments here at the prison, they typically assign me all of the easy psych evals. But the guy who handles the werewolf inmate evals is out today, and everyone else on staff is human. The last thing they are going to do is put a human in the room with such a notorious and dangerous wolf shifter. So…I’m up to bat. And the incident with Hudson? Not helping my nerves one bit. The hallway door clangs open, and I quickly stand, pulling down on the hem of my blazer to straighten it. This is by far the most nervous I’ve been since I started this gig. The guards bring Kenwood around the corner, and I’m surprised. I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting, but I wasn’t expecting this. He looks nothing like what I could have ever pictured. This man is muscular and tall, moving with a kind of dangerous grace. My eyes follow the way his shoulders shift beneath the fabric of his orange prison uniform, the way that the guards flinch a little as they unlock the silver cuffs on his wrists. This is one powerful wolf shifter. No doubt about it. I can see why everyone fears him. His mere presence ignites something in me I’ve never felt before, and I have to squeeze my thighs together to quell the rush of desire between my legs. I stifle a gasp as my eyes finally fall on Kenwood’s face and take him in, my mouth going dry. His dark hair falling over his forehead, his square jaw, the deep frown lines etched over green eyes… Oh goddess. Is this what a she-wolf’s heat feels like? I gasp as my eyes finally fall on Kenwood’s face and take him in, my mouth going dry. His dark hair falling over his forehead, his square jaw, the deep frown lines etched over green eyes… Oh my god. I’ve seen this man before. I saw him today—on my boyfriend’s phone. And I’ve seen a younger version of him etched in the features of my boyfriend’s face. Hudson isn’t just some rich kid. He’s the son of the mafia king. Aden I follow the guards to a cinder-block cell at the end of the hallway, noting that my lawyer is standing outside the door. He rolls his eyes at me and points at his watch, indicating that he’ll have me out of here in no time. I nod, then focus my attention on the door. I’m surprised to see a girl. No, not a girl. A young woman—twenty-three, at the most. She stands up, clearly anxious, biting her lip and playing with the long red ponytail that drifts over her shoulder. Her mouth falls open, just slightly, as she takes me in. God dammit. My body tenses at the sight of her—those long legs, knocked at the knees with anxiety, her short white skirt, that ridiculous blazer that she wears so people like me will take her seriously. If my wrists weren’t bound in silver, my canines would be dropping right now, my wolf anxious for a taste of her. I can tell from a single glance that she’s pure as the driven snow—ambitious but poor, eager to prove herself. My eyes rove over her… What would she look like if I ripped that unflattering blazer off her? I focus again on those red lips, slightly parted. My breath hisses from my mouth at the sight of those lips, at the thought of what I could do with them—of what I could make them do to me. There’s a low rumble in my chest as I hold back my growl, and my pants tighten as I get hard. “Um,” she says, hesitant. I snap my attention back to her jewel-blue eyes. “My name is Brooklyn Knox? I’m here to do your preliminary interview for state psychological assessment?” I grit my teeth, denying the urge to smile slowly at the fact that her statements are presented as questions. God, she’s perfect, this little angel. The feral, leashed part of me wants to know what she’d look like with a little bit of the underworld’s grime smeared all over her. I want to ruin her, put her on her knees for me. I want to own her in every way imaginable, destroy her for any other man. They don’t call me a monster for nothing. “Hello, Brooklyn,” I say, my voice low and hungry as I move forward and settle into the chair across from her. “Where do we begin?”Brooklyn I hesitate, settling down in my chair across from Aden. He’s all feral wolf, and instead of feeling like the strong she-wolf I am, I feel like a doe waiting to feel his teeth sink into my neck for the kill. His wolf flares in his eyes as he stares at me, almost as if he could leap across the table at any moment and gobble me up. Images flash through my mind of my skirt hiked up around my waist while Aden Kenwood buries his face between my thighs, literally gobbling me up… I give myself a mental shake. Nope. This is Hudson’s father—mafia king, powerful shifter, and bad, bad news. That’s why Hudson has a bodyguard, that’s why he has so much money. I quirk my head to the side, still staring at Kenwood, realizing that this is also why Hudson is hiding his sexuality. Many of the powerful wolf packs and crimes families in Grayling City are notoriously conservative, and family is everything. A gay son would never be accepted in some packs—especially a son that is expected to provide an heir. I can’t imagine being Hudson…having to hide who I loved, pretending to love someone else. Pulling myself back to the here and now, I realize that the man in front of me is smiling, just slightly, his eyes moving over me as I stare at him like a deer in the headlights. My body’s response to him, thinking about his head buried between my legs…there’s no way he doesn’t smell how turned on I am. I clench my jaw, reminding myself that he is the villain. No matter how much of a traitor my wolf and my body are right now. There is NO way I’m feeling my heat for this man. Not at all. “So.” I turn back to my papers, nervously swallowing. You’ve done this a thousand times, Brooklyn! I remind myself. You could do this in your sleep! “Can you please state your name and place of birth?” I ask, trying to regain control of the assessment. “I believe,” Kenwood says slowly, “that you’re already aware of my history.” He leans back, studying me. I lift my eyes to glare at his boldness—he’s so rude. But, unfortunately, he’s right. Everyone in Grayling City knows this information. I quickly fill out the form. I glance up at him, struck once again by the grim, lethal quality to his face. Aden Kenwood is all jagged edges and rough shards…and some dark part of me wants to cut my teeth on them. I drag my gaze away from him, feeling a shiver pass through me, tapping its fingers down my spine. Somehow, I imagine that they’re Aden’s fingers… I quickly dismiss the thought and try to focus on what I’m supposed to be doing. My wolf, Lena, whines at me, and I shush her. I’m so off-kilter that I actually have to look down and read the words I’d long ago memorized. “The rest of the questions that I ask you today will be of a personal and psychological nature,” I say, giving the canned speech I’m required to say to all inmates. “The state does require that you answer all questions fully and honestly as part of the assessment. Do you understand?” Aden is silent in response, and I look up at him, a knee-jerk reaction to an unresponsive patient. He’s smirking at me, unblinking. “Little girl,” he says, slowly leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “what gives you the right to ask me anything about my history and my mind?” I sit straight in my chair, unnerved by such a question. “The state has hired me to administer these examinations—” “Do you have a degree?” he cuts in. “Some kind of…certificate?” The final word is heavy with derision. I frown at him and reach down to rifle through my bag, producing the certified paperwork from the state that qualifies me for this position. “Here. If you’re so curious.” I reach across the table to hand it to him. A second before he grabs my wrist, I realize my mistake. He snatches my hand, fully capturing it in his, pulling me forward against the table, careful not to let the silver binding his wrists touch my skin. It doesn’t quite hurt, but, surprised, I drop the paperwork as I gasp, looking up at him. I’m terrified as he brings my hand close to his face, and then— Oh my goddess— Slowly, indulgently, he runs his nose across the ivory skin of my wrist. “Chamomile, lavender,” he murmurs, closing his eyes, taking in my scent. “So fresh and clean…untainted by the scent of another wolf.” Then he opens his eyes and stares into my bewildered face, wanting to see my reaction as he says, “You must be a virgin.” My lip trembles. His eyes eat me up, savoring the quiver of my lips, my wide, terrified eyes. I swear I feel his tongue flick over my pulse point, hear a low groan. “So innocent, so pure…” His grip tightens, and even confined by silver that should keep it from happening, his wolf flashes in his eyes. “Two of my favorite things to destroy.” Brooklyn A guard flies through the door. “Hands off!” he yells, but Aden has already released my wrist, raising his hands over his head, perfectly calm. “Sorry,” he says, back to smirking, his eyes on me. “Won’t happen again.” I blink at him, sitting back in my chair. I straighten my shoulders, unable to take my eyes off him. “Are you all right, miss?” the guard says, leaning forward to look me over. “I’m fine.” I rub my wrist with my other hand. I’m not hurt, just…shocked? Turned on? Confused? I clear my throat and look back down at my papers. “We will…we will proceed.” I work to steel myself, determined to regain control, to finish this interview. Failure isn’t an option if I want to graduate. I give Kenwood a steady glare, raising my chin. I’m tougher than he thinks I am. Picking up my pen again, I’m grateful that my hands aren’t shaking. “Please,” I say, focusing again on the paper. “Can you tell me about the crime for which you were imprisoned? I see—” “Your little skirt,” he says, grinning wolfishly at the fact that he’s riled me so easily, “is also very precious. You have beautiful legs, and that skirt’s the perfect length to—” “Please, Mr. Kenwood,” I repeat, surprised to hear it come out with a little growl. “I demand your respect during this process. Please be aware that what I report today will affect the rest of your time in prison, as well as your chances for early release. So I suggest that you take this process seriously.” Kenwood’s response is to laugh at me. “Darling,” he says, leaning forward again. “I couldn’t take you seriously if I tried.” I blink at him, stunned, but it quickly turns to rage. I clench my fist, my knuckles almost white, working to keep Lena’s temper at bay inside of me. The last place I can shift is here. Aden looks down at my fist and grins. “Now, now, Doc. No fair teasing. I like it a little rough.” “Mr. Kenwood,” I bite out, “if you aren’t interested in cooperating with me, I’d rather not waste my time. I’ll just let the guard know you’re being combative.” I stand up with bravado I don’t feel, and raise my hand, waving to the guard standing right outside the door. In a flash, Aden’s demeanor changes. Gone is the relaxed, playful wolf who’s been teasing me. Instead of the mischievous twinkle in his eyes at knocking me off-kilter, all the sharp edges and darkness are back. I can’t look away, overwhelmed, almost hypnotized by his glare. Finally, I dart my eyes away, staring down at the floor—anywhere but at him. “You looked away first.” He studies me. “Didn’t your parents, your Alpha teach you not to show weakness? Not to take your eyes off the enemy? In the battlefield, you’d have died by my hand—or my wolf’s teeth. Pitiful.” Riled, I raise my eyes to stare him down, determined not to look away first. “Good,” he laughs. “I like my girls with a little fight in them.” My face goes pale and red at once. I’m enraged, mortified to have fallen for his trick. I know better! But also—god dammit—I feel my nipples go hard under my blazer. His steely gaze moves to my chest, as if he knows it, the rumble of a growl in his chest deepening. I grab my pen again, scrawling words across the paper as fast as I can. Constantly defiant, ruthlessly sociopathic, no remorse. Recommend continued imprisonment, without parole. “This is finished.” I gather my papers as fast as I can, shoving them, crinkled, into my bag. He’s laughing softly as I hurry. I take a breath, throw my shoulders back, and then give him what I hope is a withering glare as I move towards the door. I pound twice on the metal, and the guard lets me out. I don’t look at Kenwood again as I start to leave. “Oh, Doc…” his voice echoes behind me. My cheeks burn and I grit my teeth as I turn to hear his parting words. “I’ll see you on the outside,” he says, giving me a dark smirk. “You can count on it.” “Not if I have anything to say about it,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I storm out, the guard shutting the door behind me. My paperwork recommends his eternal imprisonment. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll never see him again. And good riddance. However, when I return, I get on my laptop and open a search engine. My cheeks grow red for what feels like the millionth time today and I find myself typing “Aden Kenwood” into the search bar. I’m surprised by the results. The news channel that Dad watches every night calls Aden Kenwood the Werewolf Mafia King—or just “the Wolf King” sometimes, to appeal to the human demographic and pearl-clutchers. They are always detailing his dirty deeds, but the sites I’m looking show him standing in front of a tech company in Silicon Valley, calling him the CEO. Another site lists positive reviews of his many businesses, with employees suggesting that he’s a great boss. Still another… God, is that Brad Pitt he’s shaking hands with in that photo? Scrolling farther down, there are reports and articles about packs wanting to form and make him their Alpha. It appears he always declines… I gather my hair in my hands, passively starting to braid it as I look through the results, trying to match what I’m seeing here with the man I met in the prison the other day. “Whatcha looking at?” my sister, Jolie flops onto the couch, grabbing the laptop out of my hands. “Hey!” I squeal, snatching at it. “Jolie, give it back!” “Oooohhhh,” she says, scrolling through the photos of Aden. “Now this is a hottie who could light a little fire under me, for sure.” She nods appreciatively. “Who is this?” “Aden Kenwood,” I say, hugging my knees to my chest. “I had to interview him at the prison the other day because the shifter who usually does it was out and I was their only other shifter. He was…unnerving.” Jolie flicks her eyes to me, considering. “Did he scare you?” I shrug. “A little.” She narrows her eyes a bit, snapping the laptop shut. “Okay, that’s it. You’re coming out with me tonight, baby Brooklyn,” she says, sliding across the couch to give me a big hug. “You’ve had a hard time with your gay boyfriend and the scary Mafia King. You’ve got to have some fun!” I laugh, letting her wrap me up. “Okay, okay! Geeze, I’ll come.” Little did I know how much these separate aspects of my life would collide in just a few hours. *** The music pounds in the club and, I have to admit, I’m really starting to have fun. Lena is even loosening up a little bit, and she’s not as on edge as she has been the past few days. Though, she absolutely keeps throwing up images of Kenwood in my mind. Jolie dressed me tonight, which would usually make me uncomfortable, but for once, I let her take charge and decided to step out of my comfort zone and just go with it. What she calls a “dress” is more a sheet of silver fabric that falls across my front and then wraps low around my hips. It’s strapped together across my shoulders with a spiderweb of silver strings. Gotta give it up to that wolf shifter metabolism…I’m showing a lot of skin, but I know I look good. Despite spending the last couple of days drowning myself in Ben & Jerry’s. She also curled my long red hair into waves and gave me shadowy makeup and full red lips. Looking at myself in the club’s mirrored walls, I feel…well, I blush to admit it, but I feel really sexy. It’s a strange feeling. I’m not sure what I expected when Jolie took me to one of “her” clubs, but this feels nothing like a strip club. In fact, so far every woman dancing on the stages is fully clothed. I look around from my spot in a round corner booth, curious as to where everything else happens. Jolie sits down next to me then, laughing. She waves goodbye to the man she had been talking with, then turns her attention to me. Her eyes are a little glazed. “You having fun, baby Brooklyn?” She gives me a wide, inviting smile. I can’t help but smile back. “Yes,” I say, laughing. “Though I’m curious…where does…all the oth—" Jolie stiffens next to me, and I stop talking. Lena scents fear. I follow Jolie’s gaze. There’s a man standing across the VIP area, his arms crossed, staring at her. When I look, he starts to walk over. Jolie quickly jumps to her feet, reaching out her arms to wrap this big fat potato of a man in a hug. I grimace a little—he looks like he hasn’t showered in a while. Smells a bit like it, too. Definitely human. “Davis!” she says, and I can tell her voice is falsely cheerful. “How you been, gorgeous?” “Jolie,” he says, wrapping his hands around her upper arms and pushing her way from him. “We’ve got to talk.” “Have you met my little sister, Brooklyn?” She gestures towards me with a big smile. “Brooklyn, this is Miguel Davis, an old friend. He’s the manager of the club.” Davis’s eyes rove over me, taking in the generous portion of my thigh exposed by the little dress I’m wearing. I wasn’t uncomfortable before, but now I try to tug it down lower with my fist. Lena growls low inside me at this creep, but I have to keep her leashed. We’re not allowed to shift at all in establishments where humans go. “Um, hello,” I say, hesitant. He takes Jolie by her elbow. “Come on. We’re going to talk around back.” “Okay,” Jolie murmurs, suddenly serious. She leans down to whisper to me. “It’s just work stuff, don’t worry. Plus, wolf versus human. I got this.” I give her a little smile and nod, even though I’m not sure what her wolf can even do for her right now. Between the laws we have to follow and how glazed her eyes are from…whatever she took… Jolie follows Davis into the back. They’re gone for a long time. Anxiously, I run my hand over the underwire of my bra, feeling the tiny switchblade hidden there. The only possession my mother left to me in her will. I tucked it into my bra tonight, just in case. Without the ability to use my razor-sharp claws or my wolf, I like having it with me. I don’t really know how to use it, but it calms me to know that it’s there. Half an hour more and the door opens. My stomach drops. There’s Davis, but where’s my sister? Davis’s eyes catch on me as he starts to move farther out into the club. I see him mouth the word “shit,” and then he walks over to me. “Jolie’s sister, right?” “Yes. Where is she?” “She got sick. She’s just throwing up, but she’s a little green around the gills right now,” he says, gesturing towards his own neck. Alarm bells ring in my head. Wolf shifters don’t just get “get sick.” I stand and turn towards the staff door, intending to go find my sister, but he stops me. “No, listen,” he says. “She won’t want you to see her like this. Come with me, I’ll take you someplace where you can wait more comfortably.” He pulls me forward. I follow him, confused and worried as he pulls me quickly across the club to a black door, pushing it open. The inside is barely lit—a dark room with mirrors on the ceiling and tiny pinpricks of light coming up from the floor. A wide velvet bench wraps itself around the room with little black cocktail tables lined up in front of it. I blink, trying to let my eyes adjust, as Davis settles me into a little table by the door. “Wait here for a bit,” Davis says, looking beyond me. “I’ll have someone bring you a drink. Your sister will be fine soon.” Then, he walks away. Someone does bring me a drink, and I take a sip of it. But then I realize that it’s laced with something. My head starts to spin and I push it away from me. As my eyes adjust, I look around the room and realize that I’m not alone in here. Bodies, mostly in couples, writhe together on the black velvet seating. Some of them are dancing, but some… Well, that girl is on her knees. My eyes go wide as I realize what she is doing. I jump to my feet, blushing and heading for the door. As soon as I reach it, Davis comes back in. “Whoa whoa whoa!” he says, putting up hands to stop me. I shrink in front of him. “Where you going, baby?” He rubs a hand up and down my arm. Instinctively, I jerk my arm away from him. Davis keeps moving towards me, but for every step he takes, I take one backwards. Soon, I feel myself bump into a table behind me. He presses up against me. There’s nowhere else to go. “You’d better be a good girl for me,” Davis whispers, his hot breath on my face. “Or else your sister’s gonna pay. She owes me a lot of money. Tonight, you’re going to work some of it off.” I want to push him away but somehow I lose all my strength now. I’m scared to death, a little whimper escaping my mouth. “Do you mind?” The voice drawls from behind Davis. “That’s my doctor you’re harassing there.” I feel Davis’s weight lift off me as he turns towards the voice. I peer behind him, shocked. I recognize that deep, chocolate tone, and it sends a rush of heat straight between my legs. It can’t be…	LEARN_MORE	https://stardust-h5.stardustgod.com/kiss/booksAdvP	Werewolf Fiction Club	https://www.facebook.com/100086297174750/	4,307	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	stardust-h5.stardustgod.com	IMAGE		https://stardust-h5.stardustgod.com/kiss/booksAdvPage2/?id=669a3945ed40934ef50762b5&mode=6&mediaType=fb&px=756695679720479&campaign_id={{campaign.id}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480756000_605603908952691_7611031572721511985_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=PCFRT6MNuigQ7kNvgE2O2k7&_nc_oc=Adj6QJTbP3v5LRaDH2J4edVeGfZpbeoxGZ1ONc9TxWwa3hmncudi-s6DAHNR4VswWGgulVBr-ozdCQppnsLbYM-r&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AE8GEYelSI_GjFIrKpz-mmY&oh=00_AYD2eRZnXaOD6q7Rt189P6ydpWB0zy0RICSN3lMC2Nw8iA&oe=67CBF6FA	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Werewolf Fiction Club	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,760,272	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2760268}'	Yes	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	Want more chapter?🔞👉	“You’re soaked,” Alpha Aden groans, kneeling between my legs. My wolf is clawing and clawing at me, desperate for his touch. But I can’t… Because he’s my boyfriend’s father. * I’d just about given up hope on ever feeling my heat. By the time most she-wolves were my age, they’d already settled down and had at least one pup. Instead, I felt like I was dead inside until I met Hudson a few months ago. He ignites a spark in me, something I think could be more. My love life is looking up, and I think I’m finally ready to take the next step. Not just because things were…awakened…today. But because Hudson is perfect. He’s sexy, thoughtful, attentive…. We can talk for hours about the books we love. And when I said I didn’t want to go too far too fast, he was okay with that. He’s never pushed for more than kissing. When I told him I wasn’t ready to have sex yet, he was okay and didn’t try to make me feel guilty. It made me like him even more. Today…today I’m ready. And I’m going to tell him. I take a sip of my cappuccino as I look at him. Goddess, he’s handsome. Tall and muscular but not too bulky, and I love how his curly chestnut hair falls into his green eyes. Hudson catches me staring at him as he reads, looking up and flashing me that sexy, playful grin of his. He sticks a receipt between the pages to mark his place, sets the book beside him on the couch, and then shifts his body to turn toward me. “Whatcha thinkin’, lovely?” My cheeks flush. “Do you really want to know?” “Always,” Hudson replies, placing a warm hand on my leg right above my knee. “I think I’m ready.” All of the air leaves my lungs as I finally say the words. Hudson’s eyes widen, and his fingers tighten on my leg. Before he can answer, movement over his shoulder catches my eye. One of the biggest dudes I’ve ever seen is standing at the end of a row of books, staring at us. Intently. He looks…scary. There’s something about him that dings my radar, even though I’m used to seeing criminals in the prison. He’s well over six feet tall, and his professional suit does nothing to disguise how bulky he is. My eyes are drawn to the cruel scar that runs diagonally over his face, almost splitting his nose in two. I sniff the air. Definitely a wolf shifter, too. So how does he have a scar like that? I can’t fathom what would have happened to permanently mark him like that. A shudder runs through me at the thought. “Hudson… There’s…a guy over there. And he’s staring right at us,” I say quietly. Hudson turns to look directly at the brawny guy, and I want to sink into the floor when the guy starts walking toward us. “Don’t worry about him,” Hudson answers, frustration in his voice. “Hudson, he’s looking right at—” “He’s with me. That’s Preston. He’s…my bodyguard.” Hudson shoots a glare at the huge guy, his brow furrowing. The guys stops walking toward us. “He usually does a better job of keeping out of sight.” Wait, what? He needs a bodyguard? My eyes go to the fancy watch he’s wearing today. I’d always assumed it was a knock-off, but now I’m not so sure… The questions are stacking up, and my wolf is on edge. What else is Hudson hiding? And why has none of this ever come up before on our dates? More importantly, how did I miss all of this? I’m a trained professional. Reading people and evaluating them is literally my job right now. If I can’t even read my own boyfriend, how will I ever succeed in my chosen profession. My stomach twists. “Just ignore him. My dad gets overprotective.” Hudson rolls his eyes. “Honestly, he’s so stressed out about safety that he could use a shrink like you to give him some counseling.” He laughs, then winks at me playfully. I can tell the conversation is over and I’m not going to get anything else out of him. “Anytime,” I mutter, nervously playing with my long red hair, worrying about the mismatch between Hudson’s apparent wealth and my poor grad student status. I’ve never met anyone who has a bodyguard. “Can I get you anything else?” Hudson and I look up at the barista smiling down at us, a handsome blond-haired guy with an apron tied around his waist. The guy’s timing couldn’t be worse. “No thanks, Chase,” I say, giving him a big grin at the same time Hudson smiles and says, “Can we both get refills?” “Oh, actually…” I look up at the clock and push my hair back behind my ears. If I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late for my job doing psych evaluations at the state prison. “She’ll take hers to go then,” Hudson says, rising from our sofa. He follows Chase back to the coffee counter to grab our drinks. I start to pack up my bag so I can grab the next train, when I notice Hudson’s phone vibrating on the table. When the number disappears, his home screen shows a family photo. The tall man in the back is certainly his dad, the other maybe an older brother? As I’m staring at the picture, the phone rings again—the same number. Must be important. I grab the phone and sling my bag over my shoulder, heading towards the coffee counter. But there’s no one here. I look around, confused. I definitely just saw Chase and Hudson head this way… There’s a noise from the back room, a strange and muffled thump and a moan. I take two steps forward and peek around the door. Maybe they both— Oh my god. Not two feet from me, my boyfriend presses Chase up against the wall of the storage room. One fist is wrapped in the fabric of Chase’s shirt, the other down Chase’s pants. He’s kissing him passionately, hungrily. Chase’s eyes are closed, his hands fumbling at the button and zipper of Hudson’s pants—whispering my boyfriend’s name. My heart stops for a few seconds as I stare at the scene in front of me. Then, rage takes over—masking the hurt starting to unfurl in my chest. “Are you kidding me!?” I’m not even thinking as I chuck the phone at Hudson and his lover. The guys jump, leaping apart. “Brooklyn— I—” Hudson’s face is full of shock. Tears in my eyes, I run from the room and from the coffee shop. “Brooklyn!” Hudson spills out onto the street behind me. “You don’t understand!” He grabs my arm, pulling me back to him. If ever I forgot he was a male wolf more powerful than me, I’m reminded of his strength now. “I really like you,” he says, his eyes filled with apology. “You’re amazing… It’s just that my family wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t approve—” He scrubs a hand over his face. “You know how some wolves are about this kind of thing. How some packs are. This…me and Chase… It’s complicated.” “So, what? You just want me to be your pretend girlfriend!?” I rip my arm from his hand. “Not interested.” “Please. I can make this right! How much do you want? One million? Three million?” He pulls out his phone, and I see him tap on a banking app. “I don’t want your money.” Hudson blinks in confusion, and I turn away. “I’ll keep your secret, and you don’t need to pay me off. I just don’t want to see you again.” Just like that, my possible fairy tale with Prince Charming was over. I hurry down the street, my eyes filling with angry tears. My wolf, Lena, is struggling to take over. She wants to go back and tear Hudson to shreds. His bodyguard would probably keep that from happening, though. But a girl can dream. I manage to make it on the train in time, sinking onto the bench and closing my eyes. My head falls back to rest against the window, and I take deep, calming breaths to re-center myself. Today couldn’t have gone any worse. No wonder I’m still a virgin…my instincts were so off that I’ve been dating a gay man. Nope. Not gonna wallow. Lena chuffs in agreement. * Two hours later, I’m seated at a plastic table in a cinder-block cell, my hands are resting on my paperwork in front of me, and my hair is tied back in what I hope is a professional look. My leg jitters with nerves. I need to shift, to run off this excess energy, these raging emotions. But I straighten up in my seat, taking a deep breath. I have to concentrate on my job now, and I’m incredibly tense about my next assignment. I’ve only been assigned basic white-collar criminals thus far. Some human, some wolf, none of them dangerous. But today I have to make an assessment of Aden Kenwood. He’s not just a formidable wolf; he’s a mafia king, too. His unmatched cruelty and the unbelievable lengths he’ll go to in order to protect his power are infamous in Grayling City. As a psychology grad student working on my real-life work assignments here at the prison, they typically assign me all of the easy psych evals. But the guy who handles the werewolf inmate evals is out today, and everyone else on staff is human. The last thing they are going to do is put a human in the room with such a notorious and dangerous wolf shifter. So…I’m up to bat. And the incident with Hudson? Not helping my nerves one bit. The hallway door clangs open, and I quickly stand, pulling down on the hem of my blazer to straighten it. This is by far the most nervous I’ve been since I started this gig. The guards bring Kenwood around the corner, and I’m surprised. I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting, but I wasn’t expecting this. He looks nothing like what I could have ever pictured. This man is muscular and tall, moving with a kind of dangerous grace. My eyes follow the way his shoulders shift beneath the fabric of his orange prison uniform, the way that the guards flinch a little as they unlock the silver cuffs on his wrists. This is one powerful wolf shifter. No doubt about it. I can see why everyone fears him. His mere presence ignites something in me I’ve never felt before, and I have to squeeze my thighs together to quell the rush of desire between my legs. I stifle a gasp as my eyes finally fall on Kenwood’s face and take him in, my mouth going dry. His dark hair falling over his forehead, his square jaw, the deep frown lines etched over green eyes… Oh goddess. Is this what a she-wolf’s heat feels like? I gasp as my eyes finally fall on Kenwood’s face and take him in, my mouth going dry. His dark hair falling over his forehead, his square jaw, the deep frown lines etched over green eyes… Oh my god. I’ve seen this man before. I saw him today—on my boyfriend’s phone. And I’ve seen a younger version of him etched in the features of my boyfriend’s face. Hudson isn’t just some rich kid. He’s the son of the mafia king. Aden I follow the guards to a cinder-block cell at the end of the hallway, noting that my lawyer is standing outside the door. He rolls his eyes at me and points at his watch, indicating that he’ll have me out of here in no time. I nod, then focus my attention on the door. I’m surprised to see a girl. No, not a girl. A young woman—twenty-three, at the most. She stands up, clearly anxious, biting her lip and playing with the long red ponytail that drifts over her shoulder. Her mouth falls open, just slightly, as she takes me in. God dammit. My body tenses at the sight of her—those long legs, knocked at the knees with anxiety, her short white skirt, that ridiculous blazer that she wears so people like me will take her seriously. If my wrists weren’t bound in silver, my canines would be dropping right now, my wolf anxious for a taste of her. I can tell from a single glance that she’s pure as the driven snow—ambitious but poor, eager to prove herself. My eyes rove over her… What would she look like if I ripped that unflattering blazer off her? I focus again on those red lips, slightly parted. My breath hisses from my mouth at the sight of those lips, at the thought of what I could do with them—of what I could make them do to me. There’s a low rumble in my chest as I hold back my growl, and my pants tighten as I get hard. “Um,” she says, hesitant. I snap my attention back to her jewel-blue eyes. “My name is Brooklyn Knox? I’m here to do your preliminary interview for state psychological assessment?” I grit my teeth, denying the urge to smile slowly at the fact that her statements are presented as questions. God, she’s perfect, this little angel. The feral, leashed part of me wants to know what she’d look like with a little bit of the underworld’s grime smeared all over her. I want to ruin her, put her on her knees for me. I want to own her in every way imaginable, destroy her for any other man. They don’t call me a monster for nothing. “Hello, Brooklyn,” I say, my voice low and hungry as I move forward and settle into the chair across from her. “Where do we begin?”Brooklyn I hesitate, settling down in my chair across from Aden. He’s all feral wolf, and instead of feeling like the strong she-wolf I am, I feel like a doe waiting to feel his teeth sink into my neck for the kill. His wolf flares in his eyes as he stares at me, almost as if he could leap across the table at any moment and gobble me up. Images flash through my mind of my skirt hiked up around my waist while Aden Kenwood buries his face between my thighs, literally gobbling me up… I give myself a mental shake. Nope. This is Hudson’s father—mafia king, powerful shifter, and bad, bad news. That’s why Hudson has a bodyguard, that’s why he has so much money. I quirk my head to the side, still staring at Kenwood, realizing that this is also why Hudson is hiding his sexuality. Many of the powerful wolf packs and crimes families in Grayling City are notoriously conservative, and family is everything. A gay son would never be accepted in some packs—especially a son that is expected to provide an heir. I can’t imagine being Hudson…having to hide who I loved, pretending to love someone else. Pulling myself back to the here and now, I realize that the man in front of me is smiling, just slightly, his eyes moving over me as I stare at him like a deer in the headlights. My body’s response to him, thinking about his head buried between my legs…there’s no way he doesn’t smell how turned on I am. I clench my jaw, reminding myself that he is the villain. No matter how much of a traitor my wolf and my body are right now. There is NO way I’m feeling my heat for this man. Not at all. “So.” I turn back to my papers, nervously swallowing. You’ve done this a thousand times, Brooklyn! I remind myself. You could do this in your sleep! “Can you please state your name and place of birth?” I ask, trying to regain control of the assessment. “I believe,” Kenwood says slowly, “that you’re already aware of my history.” He leans back, studying me. I lift my eyes to glare at his boldness—he’s so rude. But, unfortunately, he’s right. Everyone in Grayling City knows this information. I quickly fill out the form. I glance up at him, struck once again by the grim, lethal quality to his face. Aden Kenwood is all jagged edges and rough shards…and some dark part of me wants to cut my teeth on them. I drag my gaze away from him, feeling a shiver pass through me, tapping its fingers down my spine. Somehow, I imagine that they’re Aden’s fingers… I quickly dismiss the thought and try to focus on what I’m supposed to be doing. My wolf, Lena, whines at me, and I shush her. I’m so off-kilter that I actually have to look down and read the words I’d long ago memorized. “The rest of the questions that I ask you today will be of a personal and psychological nature,” I say, giving the canned speech I’m required to say to all inmates. “The state does require that you answer all questions fully and honestly as part of the assessment. Do you understand?” Aden is silent in response, and I look up at him, a knee-jerk reaction to an unresponsive patient. He’s smirking at me, unblinking. “Little girl,” he says, slowly leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “what gives you the right to ask me anything about my history and my mind?” I sit straight in my chair, unnerved by such a question. “The state has hired me to administer these examinations—” “Do you have a degree?” he cuts in. “Some kind of…certificate?” The final word is heavy with derision. I frown at him and reach down to rifle through my bag, producing the certified paperwork from the state that qualifies me for this position. “Here. If you’re so curious.” I reach across the table to hand it to him. A second before he grabs my wrist, I realize my mistake. He snatches my hand, fully capturing it in his, pulling me forward against the table, careful not to let the silver binding his wrists touch my skin. It doesn’t quite hurt, but, surprised, I drop the paperwork as I gasp, looking up at him. I’m terrified as he brings my hand close to his face, and then— Oh my goddess— Slowly, indulgently, he runs his nose across the ivory skin of my wrist. “Chamomile, lavender,” he murmurs, closing his eyes, taking in my scent. “So fresh and clean…untainted by the scent of another wolf.” Then he opens his eyes and stares into my bewildered face, wanting to see my reaction as he says, “You must be a virgin.” My lip trembles. His eyes eat me up, savoring the quiver of my lips, my wide, terrified eyes. I swear I feel his tongue flick over my pulse point, hear a low groan. “So innocent, so pure…” His grip tightens, and even confined by silver that should keep it from happening, his wolf flashes in his eyes. “Two of my favorite things to destroy.” Brooklyn A guard flies through the door. “Hands off!” he yells, but Aden has already released my wrist, raising his hands over his head, perfectly calm. “Sorry,” he says, back to smirking, his eyes on me. “Won’t happen again.” I blink at him, sitting back in my chair. I straighten my shoulders, unable to take my eyes off him. “Are you all right, miss?” the guard says, leaning forward to look me over. “I’m fine.” I rub my wrist with my other hand. I’m not hurt, just…shocked? Turned on? Confused? I clear my throat and look back down at my papers. “We will…we will proceed.” I work to steel myself, determined to regain control, to finish this interview. Failure isn’t an option if I want to graduate. I give Kenwood a steady glare, raising my chin. I’m tougher than he thinks I am. Picking up my pen again, I’m grateful that my hands aren’t shaking. “Please,” I say, focusing again on the paper. “Can you tell me about the crime for which you were imprisoned? I see—” “Your little skirt,” he says, grinning wolfishly at the fact that he’s riled me so easily, “is also very precious. You have beautiful legs, and that skirt’s the perfect length to—” “Please, Mr. Kenwood,” I repeat, surprised to hear it come out with a little growl. “I demand your respect during this process. Please be aware that what I report today will affect the rest of your time in prison, as well as your chances for early release. So I suggest that you take this process seriously.” Kenwood’s response is to laugh at me. “Darling,” he says, leaning forward again. “I couldn’t take you seriously if I tried.” I blink at him, stunned, but it quickly turns to rage. I clench my fist, my knuckles almost white, working to keep Lena’s temper at bay inside of me. The last place I can shift is here. Aden looks down at my fist and grins. “Now, now, Doc. No fair teasing. I like it a little rough.” “Mr. Kenwood,” I bite out, “if you aren’t interested in cooperating with me, I’d rather not waste my time. I’ll just let the guard know you’re being combative.” I stand up with bravado I don’t feel, and raise my hand, waving to the guard standing right outside the door. In a flash, Aden’s demeanor changes. Gone is the relaxed, playful wolf who’s been teasing me. Instead of the mischievous twinkle in his eyes at knocking me off-kilter, all the sharp edges and darkness are back. I can’t look away, overwhelmed, almost hypnotized by his glare. Finally, I dart my eyes away, staring down at the floor—anywhere but at him. “You looked away first.” He studies me. “Didn’t your parents, your Alpha teach you not to show weakness? Not to take your eyes off the enemy? In the battlefield, you’d have died by my hand—or my wolf’s teeth. Pitiful.” Riled, I raise my eyes to stare him down, determined not to look away first. “Good,” he laughs. “I like my girls with a little fight in them.” My face goes pale and red at once. I’m enraged, mortified to have fallen for his trick. I know better! But also—god dammit—I feel my nipples go hard under my blazer. His steely gaze moves to my chest, as if he knows it, the rumble of a growl in his chest deepening. I grab my pen again, scrawling words across the paper as fast as I can. Constantly defiant, ruthlessly sociopathic, no remorse. Recommend continued imprisonment, without parole. “This is finished.” I gather my papers as fast as I can, shoving them, crinkled, into my bag. He’s laughing softly as I hurry. I take a breath, throw my shoulders back, and then give him what I hope is a withering glare as I move towards the door. I pound twice on the metal, and the guard lets me out. I don’t look at Kenwood again as I start to leave. “Oh, Doc…” his voice echoes behind me. My cheeks burn and I grit my teeth as I turn to hear his parting words. “I’ll see you on the outside,” he says, giving me a dark smirk. “You can count on it.” “Not if I have anything to say about it,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I storm out, the guard shutting the door behind me. My paperwork recommends his eternal imprisonment. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll never see him again. And good riddance. However, when I return, I get on my laptop and open a search engine. My cheeks grow red for what feels like the millionth time today and I find myself typing “Aden Kenwood” into the search bar. I’m surprised by the results. The news channel that Dad watches every night calls Aden Kenwood the Werewolf Mafia King—or just “the Wolf King” sometimes, to appeal to the human demographic and pearl-clutchers. They are always detailing his dirty deeds, but the sites I’m looking show him standing in front of a tech company in Silicon Valley, calling him the CEO. Another site lists positive reviews of his many businesses, with employees suggesting that he’s a great boss. Still another… God, is that Brad Pitt he’s shaking hands with in that photo? Scrolling farther down, there are reports and articles about packs wanting to form and make him their Alpha. It appears he always declines… I gather my hair in my hands, passively starting to braid it as I look through the results, trying to match what I’m seeing here with the man I met in the prison the other day. “Whatcha looking at?” my sister, Jolie flops onto the couch, grabbing the laptop out of my hands. “Hey!” I squeal, snatching at it. “Jolie, give it back!” “Oooohhhh,” she says, scrolling through the photos of Aden. “Now this is a hottie who could light a little fire under me, for sure.” She nods appreciatively. “Who is this?” “Aden Kenwood,” I say, hugging my knees to my chest. “I had to interview him at the prison the other day because the shifter who usually does it was out and I was their only other shifter. He was…unnerving.” Jolie flicks her eyes to me, considering. “Did he scare you?” I shrug. “A little.” She narrows her eyes a bit, snapping the laptop shut. “Okay, that’s it. You’re coming out with me tonight, baby Brooklyn,” she says, sliding across the couch to give me a big hug. “You’ve had a hard time with your gay boyfriend and the scary Mafia King. You’ve got to have some fun!” I laugh, letting her wrap me up. “Okay, okay! Geeze, I’ll come.” Little did I know how much these separate aspects of my life would collide in just a few hours. *** The music pounds in the club and, I have to admit, I’m really starting to have fun. Lena is even loosening up a little bit, and she’s not as on edge as she has been the past few days. Though, she absolutely keeps throwing up images of Kenwood in my mind. Jolie dressed me tonight, which would usually make me uncomfortable, but for once, I let her take charge and decided to step out of my comfort zone and just go with it. What she calls a “dress” is more a sheet of silver fabric that falls across my front and then wraps low around my hips. It’s strapped together across my shoulders with a spiderweb of silver strings. Gotta give it up to that wolf shifter metabolism…I’m showing a lot of skin, but I know I look good. Despite spending the last couple of days drowning myself in Ben & Jerry’s. She also curled my long red hair into waves and gave me shadowy makeup and full red lips. Looking at myself in the club’s mirrored walls, I feel…well, I blush to admit it, but I feel really sexy. It’s a strange feeling. I’m not sure what I expected when Jolie took me to one of “her” clubs, but this feels nothing like a strip club. In fact, so far every woman dancing on the stages is fully clothed. I look around from my spot in a round corner booth, curious as to where everything else happens. Jolie sits down next to me then, laughing. She waves goodbye to the man she had been talking with, then turns her attention to me. Her eyes are a little glazed. “You having fun, baby Brooklyn?” She gives me a wide, inviting smile. I can’t help but smile back. “Yes,” I say, laughing. “Though I’m curious…where does…all the oth—" Jolie stiffens next to me, and I stop talking. Lena scents fear. I follow Jolie’s gaze. There’s a man standing across the VIP area, his arms crossed, staring at her. When I look, he starts to walk over. Jolie quickly jumps to her feet, reaching out her arms to wrap this big fat potato of a man in a hug. I grimace a little—he looks like he hasn’t showered in a while. Smells a bit like it, too. Definitely human. “Davis!” she says, and I can tell her voice is falsely cheerful. “How you been, gorgeous?” “Jolie,” he says, wrapping his hands around her upper arms and pushing her way from him. “We’ve got to talk.” “Have you met my little sister, Brooklyn?” She gestures towards me with a big smile. “Brooklyn, this is Miguel Davis, an old friend. He’s the manager of the club.” Davis’s eyes rove over me, taking in the generous portion of my thigh exposed by the little dress I’m wearing. I wasn’t uncomfortable before, but now I try to tug it down lower with my fist. Lena growls low inside me at this creep, but I have to keep her leashed. We’re not allowed to shift at all in establishments where humans go. “Um, hello,” I say, hesitant. He takes Jolie by her elbow. “Come on. We’re going to talk around back.” “Okay,” Jolie murmurs, suddenly serious. She leans down to whisper to me. “It’s just work stuff, don’t worry. Plus, wolf versus human. I got this.” I give her a little smile and nod, even though I’m not sure what her wolf can even do for her right now. Between the laws we have to follow and how glazed her eyes are from…whatever she took… Jolie follows Davis into the back. They’re gone for a long time. Anxiously, I run my hand over the underwire of my bra, feeling the tiny switchblade hidden there. The only possession my mother left to me in her will. I tucked it into my bra tonight, just in case. Without the ability to use my razor-sharp claws or my wolf, I like having it with me. I don’t really know how to use it, but it calms me to know that it’s there. Half an hour more and the door opens. My stomach drops. There’s Davis, but where’s my sister? Davis’s eyes catch on me as he starts to move farther out into the club. I see him mouth the word “shit,” and then he walks over to me. “Jolie’s sister, right?” “Yes. Where is she?” “She got sick. She’s just throwing up, but she’s a little green around the gills right now,” he says, gesturing towards his own neck. Alarm bells ring in my head. Wolf shifters don’t just get “get sick.” I stand and turn towards the staff door, intending to go find my sister, but he stops me. “No, listen,” he says. “She won’t want you to see her like this. Come with me, I’ll take you someplace where you can wait more comfortably.” He pulls me forward. I follow him, confused and worried as he pulls me quickly across the club to a black door, pushing it open. The inside is barely lit—a dark room with mirrors on the ceiling and tiny pinpricks of light coming up from the floor. A wide velvet bench wraps itself around the room with little black cocktail tables lined up in front of it. I blink, trying to let my eyes adjust, as Davis settles me into a little table by the door. “Wait here for a bit,” Davis says, looking beyond me. “I’ll have someone bring you a drink. Your sister will be fine soon.” Then, he walks away. Someone does bring me a drink, and I take a sip of it. But then I realize that it’s laced with something. My head starts to spin and I push it away from me. As my eyes adjust, I look around the room and realize that I’m not alone in here. Bodies, mostly in couples, writhe together on the black velvet seating. Some of them are dancing, but some… Well, that girl is on her knees. My eyes go wide as I realize what she is doing. I jump to my feet, blushing and heading for the door. As soon as I reach it, Davis comes back in. “Whoa whoa whoa!” he says, putting up hands to stop me. I shrink in front of him. “Where you going, baby?” He rubs a hand up and down my arm. Instinctively, I jerk my arm away from him. Davis keeps moving towards me, but for every step he takes, I take one backwards. Soon, I feel myself bump into a table behind me. He presses up against me. There’s nowhere else to go. “You’d better be a good girl for me,” Davis whispers, his hot breath on my face. “Or else your sister’s gonna pay. She owes me a lot of money. Tonight, you’re going to work some of it off.” I want to push him away but somehow I lose all my strength now. I’m scared to death, a little whimper escaping my mouth. “Do you mind?” The voice drawls from behind Davis. “That’s my doctor you’re harassing there.” I feel Davis’s weight lift off me as he turns towards the voice. I peer behind him, shocked. I recognize that deep, chocolate tone, and it sends a rush of heat straight between my legs. It can’t be…	LEARN_MORE	https://stardust-h5.stardustgod.com/kiss/booksAdvP	Werewolf Fiction Club	https://www.facebook.com/100086297174750/	4,307	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	stardust-h5.stardustgod.com	IMAGE		https://stardust-h5.stardustgod.com/kiss/booksAdvPage2/?id=669a3945ed40934ef50762b5&mode=6&mediaType=fb&px=756695679720479&campaign_id={{campaign.id}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481070897_663192326233137_3970489976764644591_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=geYmfG-fxw0Q7kNvgGtcbec&_nc_oc=AdhjXjuFN5pi0xk2RItpYUvHayqb8pckEbUkhO080YreMGA_XR9Fw8fWdvA5Bn1T_QuvbFzIYVL5xB-z7f5IASVV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AE8GEYelSI_GjFIrKpz-mmY&oh=00_AYCi_t4EUMNhyc_OrgTGBsyU_ZSTIpZxwzmdyo-IZkPsEQ&oe=67CBCE57	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Werewolf Fiction Club	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,759,669	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2759201}'	Yes	2025-03-03 14:15	active	2775	Want more exciting chapters 👉🏻👉🏻👉🏻	At the wedding, I looked at my boyfriend's dad and asked, "Just one more time, do you want me to marry your son, or you?" My ideal lover would be a guy who is not in a hurry to get laid, loves literature and books, and is polite. My sister says that such men are extinct in the 21st century. But, Daniel has shown up. We've been dating for a few months now after falling in love at first sight at a bookstore. He's thoughtful and attentive and a good listener, which is often the role I play - after all, my specialty is counseling. Today, in the bookstore where we first met, I take a sip of my cappuccino as I look over my boyfriend. Daniel always dresses so nicely, today in perfectly-pressed grey pants, a shining silver watch at his wrist. Wait, I bite my lip, wondering why my boyfriend has a diamond watch. There’s movement over Daniel’s shoulder, and as I look, my eyes go wide. “Daniel, there’s…a guy over there. And he’s staring right at us.” Daniel turns to look directly at the brawny guy, well over six feet and chorded with muscle. His professional suit does nothing to disguise the roughness of his hands, the cruel scar that runs diagonally over his face, almost splitting his nose in two. “Oh, um,” Daniel says, shrugging. “Don’t worry about him.” “Don’t worry about him!?” I whisper, a little scared. “Daniel, he’s looking right at –“ “No, I mean, he’s with me.” Daniel gives me an apologetic smile as my mouth falls open in shock. “That’s Parker, he’s…well. He’s kind of my body guard.” “Oh,” I say, pulling my mouth shut into an awkward O. I stare at Daniel. He needs a bodyguard? How rich is he? “Yeah, just ignore him,” Daniel says, giving me a cool smile. “My dad gets overprotective,” he rolls his eyes at this. “Honestly, he’s so stressed out about safety that he could use a shrink like you to give him some counseling.” Daniel laughs at this, lightening the mood. “Anytime,” I mutter, nervously playing with my long red hair, worrying about the mismatch between Daniel’s wealth and my church-mouse status. I’ve never met anyone before who has a bodyguard. “Can I get you anything else?” Both Daniel and I look up at the baristo who smiles down at us, a really handsome blonde-haired guy who has an apron tied around his waist. “No thanks, Colin,” I say, giving him a big grin. “Actually, can we both get refills?” Daniel says, giving Colin a slow smile. “Oh, actually…“ I say, looking up at the clock and pushing my hair back behind my ears. If I don’t leave now, I’m definitely going to be late for my job doing psych evaluations at the state prison. “She’ll take hers to go then,” Daniel says, rising from our sofa. “Here, I’ll help you.” He follows Colin back to the coffee counter. I start to pack up my bag, intent on catching the next trolly, when I notice Daniel’s phone vibrating on the table, a call coming in. When the number disappears, Daniel’s home screen shows a family photo. The tall man in the back is certainly his dad, the other maybe an older brother? As I try to puzzle it out, the phone rings again – the same number. On impulse, I grab Daniel’s phone and sling my packed bag over my shoulder, heading towards the coffee counter. “Daniel,” I say, slipping behind the counter, “you’re getting a phone call –“ But there’s no one back here. I look around, confused – I definitely just saw Colin and Daniel head this way… I hear a noise from the storage room, a strange and muffled thump and a moan. I take two steps forward and peek around the door, maybe they both – Oh my god. Not two feet from me, my boyfriend presses Colin up against the wall of the storage room, one fist wrapped in the fabric of his shirt – kissing him passionately - Colin’s eyes are closed, his hands fumbling at the button of Daniel’s pants, his belt already undone, whispering his name – my boyfriend’s name – “Are you kidding me!?” I yell, not even thinking as I hurl the phone at Daniel and his lover. Both boys jump, leaping apart. “Fay – I – “ Daniel’s face is full of shock. Tears in my eyes, I run from the room and from the coffee shop. “Fay!” Daniel spills out onto the street behind me. “You don’t understand!” He grabs my arm, pulling me back to him. “I really like you,” he says, his eyes filled with apology. “You’re amazing - it’s just that my family wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t approve –“ “So what,” I asked, surprised. “You just want me to be your pretend girlfriend!? Sorry,” I rip my arm from his hand. “Not interested.” “Please, Fay!” Daniel calls after me as I run away. “Please – I can make this right! How much do you want? One million? Three million? I can-" I see him pull the checkbook out of his pocket. "I don't want your money!" I say, my voice mocking. Daniel blinks and I turn away. "I’ll keep your secret, you don’t need to pay me off. I just don't want to see you again." And just like that, my fairy tale with Prince Charming was over. I hurry down the street, my eyes filling with angry tears. Two hours later, I’m seated at a plastic table in a cinder-block cell, my eyes dried up and my hair tied back in what I hope is a professional look. My leg jitters with nerves and, I think, a little bit of aftershock. I still can’t believe what Daniel did to me. But I straighten up in my seat, taking a deep breath. I have to concentrate on my job now, and I’m incredibly nervous about my next assignment. I’ve only been assigned basic white-collar criminals thus far, but today I have to make an assessment of Kent Lippert, the man known as our city’s Mafia King. His unmatched cruelty and the unbelievable lengths he takes to protect his power are infamous in this town. I hear the hallway door clang open and stand up from my chair, pressing my hands against my blazer to straighten it. This is the most nervous I’ve been since I started this gig. The guards bring Lippert around the corner and I’m surprised – I expected Lippert to be a fat, old, balding man – the kind of greasy lowlife who belongs in our city’s underworld. But this man is trim and tall, moving with a kind of dangerous grace. My eyes follow the way his shoulders shift beneath the fabric of his uniform, the way that the guards quail, a little, as they unlock the cuffs on his hands. I gasp as my eyes finally fall on Lippert’s face, my mouth going dry. His dark hair falling over his forehead, his square jaw, the deep frown lines etched over green eyes. OH MY GOD!! I’ve seen this man before. I saw him today, in a picture on my boyfriend’s phone – And again, younger, etched in the features of my boyfriend’s own face. Daniel isn’t just some rich kid. He’s the son of the Mafia King. “My name is Fay Thompson? I’m here to do your preliminary interview for state psychological assessment?” I said. “Hello, Fay,” he says, his voice low and hungry as he moves forward and settles into his chair. “Where do we begin?” I hesitate, settling down in my chair across from this man, sensing that I’m the doe to his wolf. It feels almost as if he could leap across this table at any moment and gobble me up. I quirk my head to the side, still staring at Lippert, realizing that this is also why Daniel is hiding his sexuality. Daniel’s father is Kent Lippert, the Mafia King of our city. The mafia of our city are notoriously conservative, and family is everything. Poor Daniel, he’s got to hide everything he loves. Suddenly, I realize that the man in front of me is smiling, just slightly, his eyes moving over me as I stare at him like a deer in the headlights. I clench my jaw, reminding myself that he is the villain. “So,” I say, turning back to my papers, nervous. You’ve done this a thousand times, Fay! I remind myself. You could do this in your sleep! “Can you please state your name for me, and place of birth?” “I believe,” Lippert says slowly, “That you’re already aware of my history.” He leans back, studying me. I lift my eyes to glare at his impudence – he’s so rude. But, unfortunately, he’s right. Everyone in this city knows this information. I quickly fill out the form. I glance up at him, struck again by his similarity to Daniel. The profile, especially, is almost exactly the same – but whereas Daniel is gentle, refined, Kent has a grim, lethal quality to his face. I drag my gaze away from him, feeling a shiver pass through me, tapping its fingers down my spine. Somehow, I imagine that they’re Kent’s fingers… I quickly dismiss the thought and focus. “The rest of the questions that I ask you today will be of a personal and psychological nature,” I say, giving the canned speech I’m required to say to all inmates. “The state does require that you answer all questions fully and honestly as part of the assessment. Do you understand?” He’s smirking at me, unblinking. “Little girl,” he says, slowly leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “what gives you the right to ask me anything about my history and my mind?” I sit straight in my chair, unnerved by such a question. “The state has hired me to administer these examinations –“ “Do you have a degree?” he cuts in. “Some kind of…certificate?” The final word is heavy with derision. I frown at him and reach down to rifle through my bag, producing the certified paperwork from the state which qualifies me for this position. “Here,” I say, returning his glare. “If you’re so curious.” I reach across the table to hand it to him. A second before he grabs my wrist, I realize my mistake. He snatches my hand, fully capturing it in his, pulling me forward against the table. It doesn’t quite hurt, but, surprised, I drop the paperwork as I gasp, looking up at him, terrified as he brings my hand close to his face, and then – Slowly, indulgently, he runs his nose across the ivory skin of my wrist. “Camomile, lavender,” he murmurs, closing his eyes, indulging in my scent. “So fresh and clean,” he says. Then he opens his eyes and stares into my bewildered face, wanting to see my reaction as he says, “you must be a virgin.” My lip trembles in shock, in awe. His eyes eat me up, savoring the tremble of my lips, my wide, terrified eyes. A guard flies through the door “Hands off!” he yells, but Kent has already released my wrist, raising his hands over his head, perfectly calm. “Sorry,” he says, smirking, his eyes on me. “Won’t happen again.” I blink at him, sitting back in my chair. I straighten my shoulders, unable to take my eyes off him. “Are you all right, miss?” the guard says, leaning forward to look me over. “I’m fine,” I say, rubbing my wrist with my other hand. I’m not hurt – just…shocked. I clear my throat and look back down at my papers. “We will…we will proceed.” I work to steel myself, determined to regain control, to finish this interview. I give Lippert a steady glare, raising my chin. I’m tougher than he thinks I am. At least, I hope I am. I pick up my pen again, grateful that my hands aren’t shaking. “Please,” I say, focusing again on the paper. “Can you tell me about the crime for which you were imprisoned? I see,” “Your little skirt,” he says, grinning at the fact that he’s riled me so easily, “is also very precious. You have beautiful legs, and it’s the perfect length to –“ “Please, sir,” I repeat, surprised to hear it come out in a shaky little growl. “I demand your respect in this process. Please be aware that what I report today will affect the rest of your time in prison, as well as your chances for early release. So I suggest that you take this process seriously.” “Darling,” he says, leaning forward. “I couldn’t take you seriously if I tried. “ My mouth falls open and I blink at him, shocked, but it quickly turns to rage. I slam my hand on the table, but he only laughs harder. “Sir!” I say. “This is an important process!” I hit the table again for emphasis, my hand stinging. He just watches my every movement. “I understand, Doc,” he says. “I’m here, aren’t I? Go ahead. Assess me.” He waves a hand at his body, his powerful muscles, his unyielding gaze. I stare into his eyes and feel overwhelmed, almost hypnotized by his glare. I dart my eyes away, staring down at the floor – anywhere but at him. “You looked away first,” he murmurs, studying me. “On the battlefield, this means you’d have died by my hand. Weak.” Riled, I raise my eyes again to him, determined. “Good,” he laughs. “I like my girls with a little fight in them.” God damnit – I feel my nipples go hard under my blazer. His eyes move to my chest, as if he knows it, the hum in his chest deepening. I grab my pen again, scrawling words across the paper as fast as I can. Constantly defiant, ruthlessly sociopathic, no remorse. Recommend continued imprisonment, without parole. “This is finished.” I say, decided, gathering my papers as fast as I can and shoving them, crinkled, into my bag. I can hear him laughing softly at me as I hurry. I pound twice on the metal and the guard lets me out. “Oh, Doctor,” I hear his voice echo behind me. My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I turn to hear his parting words. “I’ll see you on the outside,” he says, giving me a dark smirk. “You can count on it.” “Not if I have anything to say about it,” I murmur, my voice trembling as the guard opens the door and I storm out. My paperwork recommends his eternal imprisonment. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll never see him again, and good riddance. When I got home, my sister and father were eating. I take the final steps down into the kitchen and give dad a kiss on the cheek, sitting down in the chair next to him. “Come down to the club with me,” Janeen says, reaching out and taking my hand. “I’m not working tonight, and we can go have some fun! We’ll get free drinks and you can meet the girls!” I look up at her, hesitating. I love Janeen, but we live in totally different worlds. While I’ve spent my life at school and coffee shops, Janeen has been a night owl, working at various clubs as a stripper. She’s very talented, and she makes a ton of money. “Come onnnn” she whines. “We’ll get you more in touch with your body, get your blood flowing.” She dances in her chair, showing us some of her moves, ending with a sexy flick of her long purple hair. I laugh. Janeen has such an effervescent personality, it’s hard not to want to go wherever she’s going. “I’ll think about it,” I say, finishing my plate. “I’ve got some work to do –“ “Work work,” she says, rolling her eyes and scooping up her plate and mine. “You work way too much. Have some fun, baby!” I roll my eyes at her and pat dad on the shoulder as I head into the living room. He picks up his paper, eyes already on the sports section. In the living room, I open my laptop and open a search engine. My cheeks grow red and I find myself – bizarrely – typing Kent Lippert into the search bar. I’m surprised by the results. The news channel that dad watches every night calls Lippert the Mafia King, always detailing his dirty deeds, but the sites I’m looking show him standing in front of a tech company in Silicon Valley, calling him the CEO. Another site lists positive reviews of his many businesses, with employees suggesting that he’s a great boss. Still another…god, is that Brad Pitt he’s shaking hands with in that photo? “Whatcha looking at?” Janeen says, flopping onto the couch and grabbing the laptop out of my hands. “Hey!” I say, snatching at it. “Janeen, give it back!” “Oooohhhh,” she says, scrolling through the photos of Kent on the page. “Now this is a hottie who could light a little fire under me, for sure,” she says, nodding appreciatively. “Who is this guy?” “Kent Lippert,” I say, hugging my knees to my chest. “I had to interview him at the prison the other day. He was…unnerving.” Janeen flicks her eyes to me, considering. “Did he scare you?” I shrug. “A little.” She narrows her eyes a bit, snapping the laptop shut. “Okay, that’s it. You’re coming out with me tonight, baby Fay,” she says, coming across the couch to give me a big hug. “You’ve had a hard week with your gay boyfriend and scary Mafia King. You’ve got to have some fun!” I laugh, letting her wrap me up. “Okay, okay! Geeze, I’ll come.” The music pounds in the club and, I have to admit, I’m really starting to have fun. “You having fun, baby Fay?” she asks, giving me a wide, inviting smile. I can’t help but smile back. “Yes,” I say, laughing. But then Janeen stiffens next to me. There’s a man standing across the VIP area, his arms crossed, staring at her. As I look, he starts to walk over. Janeen gets quickly to her feet, reaching out her arms to wrap this big fat potato of a man in a hug. “Dean!” she says, and I can tell her voice is falsely cheerful. “How you been, gorgeous?” “Janeen,” he says, pushing her way from him. “We’ve got to talk.” “Have you met my little sister, Fay?” she asks, gesturing towards me with a big smile. “Fay, this is Mike Dean, an old friend. He’s the manager of the club.” Dean’s eyes rove over me, taking in the generous portion of my thigh exposed by this little dress. Uncomfortable, I try to tug it down lower with my fist. “Um, hello,” I say, hesitant. He takes Janeen by her elbow. “Come on,” he says. “We’re going to talk around back.” “Okay,” Janeen murmurs, suddenly serious. She leans down to whisper to me. “It’s just work stuff, don’t worry.” I give her a little smile and nod. With that, Janeen follows Dean into the back. They’re gone for a long time. Anxiously, I run my hand over the underwire of my bra, feeling the tiny switch blade that I’ve hidden there. The only possession my mother left to me in her will. Half an hour more and the door opens. Dean come out of it but my stomach drops. Where’s my sister? “Janeen’s sister, right?” “Yes?” “She got sick,” he says. “She’s just throwing up, but she’s a little green around the gills right now,” he says, gesturing towards his own neck. I stand and turn towards the staff door, intending to go find my sister, but he stops me. “No, listen,” he says, “she won’t want you to see her like this. Come with me, I’ll take you some place where you can wait more comfortably.” He pulls me forward. I totter after him, confused and worried, as he pulls me quickly across the club to a black door, pushing it open. The inside is barely lit – a dark room with mirrors on the ceiling and tiny pinpricks of light coming up from the floor. “Wait here for a bit,” Dean says, looking beyond me. “I’ll have someone bring you a drink. Your sister will be fine soon.” Then, he walks away. Someone does bring me a drink and I take a sip of it, but then, realizing that it might be laced with something, I push it away from me. As my eyes adjust, I look around the room and realize that I’m not alone in here. Bodies, mostly in couples, writhe together on the black velvet seating. Some of them are dancing, but some…well, that girl is on her knees. My eyes go wide as I realize what she is doing. I jump to my feet, blushing and heading for the door. As soon as I reach it, though, Dean comes through it again. “Where you going, baby?” he says, rubbing a hand up and down my arm. Instinctually, I jerk my arm away from him. Dean keeps moving towards me, but for every step he takes, I take one backwards. Soon, I feel myself bump into a table behind me. He presses up against me. There’s nowhere else to go. “You’d better be a good girl for me,” Dean whispers, his hot breath on my face. “Or else your sister’s gonna pay. She owes me a lot of money. Tonight, you’re going to work some of it off.” I’m scared to death, a little whimper escaping my mouth. “Do you mind?” The voice drawls from behind Dean. “That’s my psychotherapist you’re harassing there.”	LEARN_MORE	https://fqwebsite.novellairs.com/share/middle/yknb	Novellair-The Reading Room	https://www.facebook.com/61558704884181/	502	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fqwebsite.novellairs.com	IMAGE	My sister says that such men are extinct in the 21st century. She accused me of always daydreaming about nerd stuff, which is why I still haven’t cashed in my v-card.	https://fqwebsite.novellairs.com/share/middle/yknb5tetayni3vkpyutlm1bq?campaign_id={{campaign.id}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&campaign={{campaign.name}}&adgroup={{adset.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481192511_980203084205887_1343004908647879944_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dPAFhZIRCSwQ7kNvgGs5LDo&_nc_oc=AdhlcrGZuM1lwQoMmd0GkY3FLgInjhG30RPGYWKsRGXHlXH57o-YL-E-dB91Pnwee6O9OAF_LJJ1AIqEJqck87Sp&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A0mjn9cfIBD2bq_uEKjUWUu&oh=00_AYBncYMBGib0iz_RFwNR1mlDAYLuGqQZsSgYQZ8smYeKEQ&oe=67CBDC4E	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Novellair-The Reading Room	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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