“SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME,” I cried, running. Rain lashed my face, cold and stinging. Two lowlife gangsters were on my tail, chasing me through the slick streets of New York. My vision blurred, waterlogged and exhausted. My body ached, and my feet burned with each stride.
It’d been over a week since I’d left California. A week since I’d left everything behind. My mother died in a car crash when I was fifteen, and my stepfather… well, he’d turned into something monstrous afterward. I just couldn’t breathe under his roof anymore. As soon as I turned eighteen – February nineteenth – I’d packed a bag and run.
You’d think New York would be better. A fresh start. But right now, it’s proving me wrong. What do they *want* from me? I’m broke. I have nothing.
I glanced back, heart hammering. They were gaining on me, closing the distance with every second. I pushed myself harder, legs screaming, fueled by adrenaline and the icy rain. It was a weird kind of energy, this desperation. Like the storm itself was pushing me forward.
Walking in a rich neighborhood at night… stupid. Just plain stupid. I always walk. I thought I could breathe in this city. Now I'm running for my life. What could they possibly want? A girl can’t even take a walk without being chased or kidnapped. Men hurting us, chasing us, kidnapping us... for what?
God, I just wanted some fresh air.
I was running so fast I didn't see the car coming until it was too late. It swerved, braking inches from my side. I stumbled, nearly falling.
A man got out. I tried to catch my breath, to say something, but my lungs burned. Twenty minutes of running, lungs raw, legs shaking. I pointed toward the men chasing me, then looked at him, trying to focus.
He was… stunning. Six feet tall, handsome as hell, with eyes that sparked like silver lightning. I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before, but my brain’s a mess right now. I can’t place it.
The two thugs barreled towards us, stopped dead when they saw him.
“Just hand her over,” the biggest one growled, “and we won’t have any problems.”
The man didn't even blink. "How about you get the fuck on and leave us alone before I kick your ass," he said.
They laughed. The sound scraped across my nerves. I backed up, terrified. He’d just threatened two guys twice my size. My breath hitched. My hands started shaking. The thugs moved closer.
"Move," one of them yelled, storming forward.
The man moved faster. He slammed a fist into the lead thug’s face, sending him sprawling. I gasped, my hands clamped over my mouth. He kept hitting, a brutal, relentless fury unleashed. The other thug went down, bleeding and whimpering.
How much did I underestimate this man? He just blew my mind.
I felt dizzy, everything spinning. I think I was having a panic attack. Those never end well. Then, darkness swallowed me whole.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The next morning, I woke up in the softest bed I’d ever known. I’d slept for hours, a deep, dreamless sleep. I opened my eyes and glanced at the clock. One PM. I was late for work.
God, my head hurt.
I sat up and looked down. I wasn’t wearing my clothes. I was wearing a huge t-shirt and a pair of men’s underwear.
I quickly got up and shivered as soon as my feet touched the cold marble floors. I opened the curtains and looked down to see I was in a building and at least on the 50th floor. I started to panic. Where the fuck am I?
Footsteps echoed in the hallway. The man from last night walked in. The one who saved me. He looked even more handsome in the daylight. Sharp jawline, perfect hair, those silver eyes… He was breathtaking.
I knew I’d seen him somewhere before. But I couldn’t grasp it.
He closed the door behind him and walked towards me. I tried to catch my breath. I pointed toward the men who were chasing me and look over.
He stood in front of me, and I couldn’t help but blush. He was stunning. A 6-foot handsome man with bright sparkling grey eyes. I swear I know him from somewhere but with all that's going through my mind right now I can't seem to figure out who this mysterious man is.
The two creepy men quickly came rushing up to us but came to a stop when they saw the man I was with.
“Just hand her over and we won't have any problems,” The largest one said.
“How about you get the fuck on and leave us alone before I kick your ass,” said the mysterious man standing in front of me.
They laughed which even gave me more creeps.
What the fuck? Those men are big as hell. I backed up trying to get away as I was shocked by the threat this man just made. My breath was getting shorter and shorter and I started to have trouble breathing. The men even got closer.
“Move,” Dummy number one yelled as he stormed up to us.
The mysterious man got closer and punched him in his face leaving him on the ground. I gasped, and my hands start shaking as he continued to beat the hell out of the other one leaving them bloody and running.
How much I underestimated this man. He definitely just blew my mind.
I started feeling dizzy and confused. I think I was having a panic attack and those never end well. The next thing I saw was black.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The next morning, I got a call from my boss telling me I was fired. Just like that. No explanation, no warning. I'd only been there a week, and I was a good worker. I felt my gut twist with anger.
Then, an email. Multiple companies looking to hire a receptionist. One caught my eye: Valentino Industries.
I managed to land an interview today. I knew it was bad. I knew it. But I had no choice.
Valentino Industries was run by Kilo Valentino, a billionaire younger than my stepdad. He owned thousands of hotels and clubs across the country. He was respected… and apparently every girl’s dream. Well, maybe. I couldn't remember.
I walked up to the building, a towering monolith of glass and steel.
VALENTINO INDUSTRIES.
At least sixty floors. I walked inside, trying to keep my jaw from dropping. The place was insane. Huge, amazing, like something out of a movie. Rich people shit.
I walked over to the desk.
“Hi, my name is Lani Paris, and I’m here for an interview,” I said to the woman behind the counter.
No response.
I cleared my throat.
Nothing. Was she really ignoring me?
“Hello,” I said, louder.
She finally looked up, chewing gum.
“Miss…” I started to yell, but she cut me off.
She picked up the phone, mumbled something, then slammed it down. “41st floor,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes.
I rolled my own eyes and headed for the elevator. Employees laughed and whispered as I walked by.
I was wearing the best I could manage: a ragged tight skirt and the t-shirt the man gave me. I tied it up to make it look cute.
I reached the 41st floor, walked to the huge doors, and knocked.
“Come in,” a voice said.
I glanced at the clock. Nine o’clock sharp. I was on time.
I slowly walked in, watching him. His back was to me, facing the window, looking out at the New York skyline. The room was breathtaking. Cozy, dark, with huge windows.
I sat down, and he turned around.
My mouth dropped open. Kilo Valentino. The man from last night. The savior. The one who took me in. This man.
I was confused.
He smirked.
“I see you’re wearing my shirt,” he said, his voice a low murmur.
“I… I…” I stood up to leave. I couldn’t do this.
“Stop,” he said, grabbing my arm. I kept walking. He caught up, blocking my path.
“Don’t ever FUCKING disrespect me again.” He hissed, his face inches from mine.
I backed up, my back hitting the wall. I wanted to push him away, but he was too strong. He pinned me, his arms trapping me against the glass.
I felt my breath catch in my throat. He got closer, his eyes burning into mine.
“Ok,” I said, waiting impatiently for him to move. But he didn’t. He just stood there, watching me.
“Go sit down,” he said, his voice cold as ice.
I sat down, my legs trembling. He got closer.
“Your applying for a receptionist? correct?” He asked typing away on his computer acting as if nothing just happened.
I wanted to roll my eyes so fucking bad. I can't believe this shit.
“Yes,” I replied still pissed but maintained my attitude.
“I want you to be my PA,” he said all calm.
You got to be fucking kidding me.
“No,” I said. I am not going to be his fucking Personal Assistant there's no way in hell, not after the way he just treated me.
“Yes, you will Ms. Paris,” he chuckled with a smirk on his face.
“Cause if you don't,” he paused turning his smirk into a deadly look. "I will make sure nobody in this city will fucking hire you,” he continued trying to scare me.
So this mother fucker is crazy.
“You wouldn't dare,” I said while standing up.
“Try me,” he says while getting in my face.
I backed up and sat back down. He got closer.
“That's what I thought,” he said.
Fuck.
I got up and turned around and headed to the door. I can't fucking believe him.
“Where do you think you going?” He asked.
“Home,” I replied.
“You start tomorrow.”
“Sure,” I walked out and slammed the door. I know it was disrespectful but he can go to hell. How did he expect me to start tomorrow?
A/N
Thanks for reading Serial Lover, for some reason I couldn't change the title and I know this sounds stupid but the title has nothing to do with the book lol sorry!! Enjoy!!!
If there are any questions please ask!!!
Lol just wanted to say I have a new book I'm writing and I haven't been writing it because...
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 1K! please vote and commet!
Thank you guys for everything. I am now in college without a lot of time on my hands but I wanted to release a book you've been waiting on. Frankie and Francis is out now. I will be posting weekly!