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AFTERGLOW

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*AFTERGLOW — A Dark Billionaire Bully Romance*I ruined Jax Moreau in high school.I called him Ghost because he never spoke. Locked him in closets. Wrote LOSER across his yearbook photo and made the whole school laugh.He disappeared after graduation. I thought I'd never see him again.Now I'm 26, broke, drowning in debt, and desperate for a job.The CEO of Moreau Industries is 6'3", built like sin in a black suit, with a watch that costs more than my rent. Cold. Gorgeous. Rich beyond reason.And he hasn't forgotten a single thing I did to him."Still love making people cry, Lena Reyes?"It's Jax. And my resume is in his hands.He offers me a deal: $90k to be his personal assistant. Work late. Do exactly what he says. Let him finally be the man I can't stop thinking about.My desk is inside his office. He owns the building I work in. The cameras. The security system. He kept every cruel note I ever wrote him.He says he's forgiving. He says he just wants an apology.But the way he looks at me when he locks the office door says he wants a lot more than sorry.He waited 10 years for payback.And now I'm exactly where he wants me.*AFTERGLOW is a dark, possessive bully-to-lovers romance. Female bully / male victim, billionaire boss, forced proximity, revenge obsession, and a hero who was never as innocent as she thought.

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THE INTERVIEW
CHAPTER 1: THE INTERVIEW *Her:* Lena — 26, was queen bee in high school. Mouthy, mean, made his life hell. *Him:* Jax — The kid she called "Ghost" because he never talked. Now 28, 6'3", rich from tech/security company, owns the building she works in. Still remembers every single thing she said to him. *Chapter 1 Hook — The Interview* Lena didn't recognize him at first. The man behind the desk was in a black suit, watch that cost more than her rent for a year, jaw sharp enough to cut. Cold eyes. Calm. Then he smiled. "Lena Reyes. Still love making people cry?" Her stomach dropped. Jax Moreau. The boy she'd locked in the janitor's closet sophomore year. The boy she'd written "LOSER" on in yearbook. Now her resume was in his hands. And her loan was due in 9 days. "You applied for the assistant position," he said, flipping a page. "You were... not nice to me. Remember?" "I was a kid—" "You were cruel," he corrected, soft. "For years." He stood, walked around the desk, locked the office door. Click. She backed up until her spine hit the glass wall — 30 floors up, whole city below. "But I'm a forgiving man," he whispered, leaning in, hands in pockets, not touching her. "You get the job. $90k. You work late. You do exactly what I say." "What?" "And I get to finally be the one you can't stop thinking about." He brushed past her to unlock the door, close enough she could smell his cologne. "Welcome to Moreau Industries, Lena. Don't be late on Monday."

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