He’s the undisputed loathe of my life. My blood-sworn nemesis.
And the man whose toilets I have to scrub for the next thirty days.
How’s your week going?
It’s inspiring, really—the son of a single mother from humble beginnings rises to become one of the most successful men on the planet, then goes off to exact revenge on the spoiled, bratty heiress he’s been dying to strangle since preschool.
The wicked little witch that—allegedly—had his mother fired just to get rid of him.
The self-centered, ungrateful hellion who—allegedly—has never touched a kitchen glove in her life.
It’s so satisfying, such delicious due justice, watching him corner her into striking a deal to be his maid for a month.
Too bad he’s so full of sh*t.
“Hatred” barely scratches the surface. “Enemy” is too mild a term.
It’s twenty years of pent-up frustration, rivalry, taunting, and resentment coming to a head.
Thirteen years of quiet heartbreaks, stolen glances, and unrequited butterflies getting buried deeper.
And thirty days of playing with fire… until we finally push each other just a little too far, our flame starts to burn just a little too bright, and all the secrets we tried so hard to hide come spilling into the light.
Dominic Crawford has always been the villain in my story, and I’m the fool who fell head over heels in love with him anyway.
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