Page 27 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. One

Blissful Masquerade

Ruthless Desires 1

Elira Firethorn

Chapter one

Wren

I’m desperate.

And a little foolish.

That’s the only explanation for the giddy feeling in my stomach when a familiar black SUV pulls into the parking lot. Why else would Fridays become my favorite day just because I get to seethem?

Not that I’d ever do anything about it. That’s a little too out of my comfort zone.

“Here they come.” Ava elbows me, and I almost spill the coffee I’m making. “Ohhh, book boy looksespeciallynice today.”

Groaning, I throw a lid onto the coffee cup, setting it on the pickup counter. “Order for Brooke,” I call out.

I’m about to turn away, but just then,hesteps through the front door. Tall, well-built, and with eyes that pierce the soul. And he’s looking right at me.

Butterflies fill my stomach. Elliot Hayes is one of the three men who meets here every Friday morning for coffee. They’re always dressed in sharp suits, almost too perfect to be real.

Over the months, Ava and I have caught them staring at me on more than one occasion. But Elliot is the one I talk to the most.

He approaches the counter, his friends—or coworkers, or whatever—behind him. “Good morning, Wren. Ava. Have a good week?”

Heat rushes through my body just from him speaking to me. He’s looking at me expectantly, like he wants arealanswer, not a fake, “Oh, it was fine.”

Still, that’s exactly what I tell him. It’s a lie—my week was filled with too many encounters with my ex-boyfriend from hell. But that seems a little too deep and messy to explain to Elliot.

So I take their orders, noticing the way he narrows his eyes at my lie.

Was I really that obvious?

But he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he leans against the counter while I start working on their drinks. “Reading anything interesting?”

I pause as my smile fades. Every week, he asks me that exact question, and I always have an enthusiastic answer for him. Reading is my favorite pastime, and I usually average one or two books a week.

“I…well, I didn’t really have time to read this week.”

He frowns, but not in a disappointed way. If I’m not mistaken, there’s concern etched into his features. “Too busy?”

“Something like that.” I avoid his gaze. Normally, reading is my escape. And I had plenty of time to read this week—I just didn’t have the mental energy.

Instead, I binged a new fantasy show every night until I fell asleep on the couch. Not the healthiest coping mechanism to deal with Adam’s constant texts and calls, but it’s not like it’ll last forever.

And if it does—or if he puts me in even themildestof reading slumps, I’ll fucking kill him.

I just wish the asshole would take a fuckinghint.You don’t cheat on me and get away with it. I swear, good men only exist in books.Specifically, books written by women.

One of the other guys—Oliver Moore, the only one who doesn’t take his coffee black—comes up beside Elliot. “Well, this guy had plenty of time to read. What’s that book you recommended to him?A Story of Two Cities? A Tale of Two Towns?”

As Oliver claps him on the back, Elliot grunts. “How do younotknow one of Dickens’ most popular books? We literally read it in high school.” With a grateful smile, he says, “Worth the reread.”

Grinning, Oliver says, “I know it’sA Tale of Two Cities,you fuckwit.” Then he turns to me and winks. “I’m just pulling his leg. He’s too book smart for his own good.”