An Alternate Beginning
She tugs on the hem of her long t-shirt as if to hide her thick thighs from me. There's no point. I memorized every dip and curve on her body long before I should have. Those pale thighs and hard little nipples taunt me every day, demanding I give in and let the devil take my soul. If I thought for a minute that I could be worthy of her, I'd do it without hesitation.
Her expression clears as she processes the fact that I'm standing in front of her. She stands upright, her shoulders back and her jaw squared as if she's expecting a fight. Most people are afraid of me. Milan isn't most people. She pushes my buttons just because she can.
She thinks she's a lion. I know better. She's an innocent little lamb, a harmless kitten. She may scratch and hiss and claw, but underneath all that attitude, she's soft, sweet, and delicate. She fights like hell to hide it, but I see it. I see her.
She's a virginal little princess…and I'm the beast who jerks off to thoughts of her screaming for daddy to fuck her. My soul was black long before she was born. There aren't many crimes I haven't committed. My hands are stained with the blood of the men I've killed on my way to the top. My brother and his wife were among them, gunned down in vengeance because
I'm a merciless, unforgiving bastard.
I know what people say about me. They aren't wrong. I'm the monster other monsters fear. The one they wish they could become. I may have gone legit over a decade ago, but blood doesn't wash clean just because you don a thousand-dollar suit. Expensive fabric stains too.
"I thought you were out of town," Milan says, her voice rough with sleep.
I feel it in my guts, feel my dick reacting to her.
"I was," I murmur, holding my beer out to her. I shouldn't. She's only nineteen. Just turned it half an hour ago, in fact. Her birthday is the only reason I came home. Spending time around Milan is…not wise. I see the way she looks at me. I know what she wants from me.
My little princess needs a daddy.
I wish like hell I could be that man. She's been my obsession since I first laid eyes on her. And she has no idea just how deep that obsession runs. The men who follow her. The cameras that watch her. The pictures I have of her. No, she doesn't know those things. She wouldn't be standing in my kitchen if she did.
She takes the beer from me, her fingers brushing mine.
My dick throbs.
She squirms, pressing her thighs together. She tries to play it off, pretend I don't affect her. We both know she's full of shit. She wanted me long before it was right. Hell, it still isn't right. She may be nineteen, but I'm twice her age. She's my niece's best friend. There are a thousand reasons I can't have her. But watching her find happiness with someone else is going to destroy me. I have no illusions about that.
"Ainsley will be happy to see you."
"Didn't come to see Ainsley, princess." I shouldn't tell her that, but her prick of a father isn't coming home for her birthday. He's living it up on his yacht with whores and blow, neglecting his daughter like usual. The only reason I haven't killed the motherfucker is because I know it would break Milan's heart. She still loves him. She deserves to know someone showed up for her, even if it is just me.
"Oh," she whispers, her expression softening. She takes a sip from my bottle, grimacing at the taste.
I reach into my pocket, pull out the box hidden there.
Her curious eyes meet mine.
"This is for you."
"You bought me a present?"
I arch a brow. "Are you complaining, baby girl?"
"No, I…" She quickly shakes her head. "No."
I take the beer from her, dropping the box into her outstretched hands.
She opens it slowly, peeling the pink paper off as if she wants to savor the experience. I want to kill her father all over again. Since the day Ainsley brought Milan home for the first time, she's been alone. She lives in a mansion with memories of the mom who died when she was a baby and the shell of the man her death left behind.
Having her here is…inconvenient. But I'll swallow my own fucking tongue before I tell her that she can't stay here with Ainsley, or that Ainsley can't spend time at her house. It's the one place in this entire city where Ainsley's security guards aren't allowed to follow. I expect them to wait outside because the thought of any of them inside Milan's space pisses me off.
When she's here, I spend most of my time elsewhere to avoid her. It's easier than dealing with the guilt I feel every fucking time she gets my dick hard.
"Justice," she whispers when she finally gets the box open to reveal the locket nestled inside. "It's so beautiful."
She feels along the edge of the delicate two-tone heart until she finds the hidden release.
"Justice," she whispers again, her voice shaking. She strokes a finger across the picture of her and her mom I had placed inside. "How did you-?"
"Ainsley brought me a picture," I mutter.
"I was going to ask how you knew I was missing my mom," she whispers.
"Lucky guess," I lie. It's not luck. I know everything about her. God help us both, but I love every little thing about her. I don't tell her that though. I can't. Instead, I finish my beer before dropping the bottle into the trashcan.
"Will you help me put it on?" she asks, holding the necklace out to me.
I don't tell her no. Of course I don't.
"Yeah, I'll put it on you."
She smiles at me, lifting her mass of hair up and spinning to present her back to me.
My hands shake as I slip the necklace around her neck. It takes four tries before I finally manage to clasp the delicate chain. All I can think about is pressing my lips to the curve of her neck. Would she melt into me? Moan for me?
"Thank you," she says, though she doesn't move away from me.
I can't resist leaning forward to touch my lips to her cheek. Her scent swirls around me, clouding my mind. Lust swirls through me, muting my conscience. Her skin is soft as silk, instantly addictive. She makes a soft sound in the back of her throat; one I know I'll be hearing in my dreams for eternity. I want to be inside her when she makes that sound.
I take a step away from her and then another. It's the hardest thing I've ever done. But for her sake, it's the best thing I can do. Stay away from her. Pretend I'm not in love with her. Give her a chance to find someone who deserves her, someone who doesn't have blood on his hands and guilt in his heart.
"Justice?" I hear the confusion in her voice. The question.
"Happy birthday, Milan," I murmur…and then I flee like the fucking coward I am.
About The Billionaire's Big Bold Wish
People say I'm cold. Autocratic. Merciless.
They're half right.
There's only one woman in the world who gets my blood heated...my niece's best friend, Milan.
She's been taunting me for years, pushing every single one of my buttons just because she can.
Now, it's my turn.
She thinks she knows me.
She has no idea how long I've been obsessing over her.
I plan to show her just how merciless I can be.
And I'm not backing down until this curvy little firecracker is mine.
People say I'm spoiled. A princess. Mouthy.
They're half right.
There's only one man in the world who makes me want to misbehave…my best friend's uncle, Justice.
He makes me ache for things I don't understand.
Dream about things I shouldn't.
He thinks I'm afraid of him and his reputation. I'm not.
I was born to be his princess.
And I'm not giving up until he knows it too.
When this obsessed daddy sets out to win his sassy princess, he'll break every single one of his rules. If you enjoy curvy heroines, over-the-top billionaires, and age gap romance, you'll love Justice and Milan's story. This sweet, steamy romance from Nichole Rose comes complete with a sticky sweet and guaranteed HEA.