T.L. Smith – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

T.L. Smith – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Thu, 26 Feb 2026 08:21:26 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png T.L. Smith – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Venomous Deceit Read Online T.L. Smith http://www.ilovenovels.com/venomous-deceit-read-online-t-l-smith Thu, 26 Feb 2026 08:21:26 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/venomous-deceit-read-online-t-l-smith Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Mafia Authors: T.L. Smith Advertisement

Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >70

I was supposed to expose him.
Soren Nixon, the untouchable media mogul, the one who hides behind locked doors and whispered oaths.
My job was simple.
Uncover the truth behind The Forsaken Society.
But nothing about him is simple.
I found a man who is carved from control and sin, who spends his free time fighting in underground rings to feel something real.
He’s dangerous in ways I can’t write about, intoxicating in ways I can’t resist.
Every secret pulls me deeper into his world.
Every touch makes me forget my purpose.
He’s everything I should fear.
But when he looks at me as if I am already his, I start to wonder. Maybe the story I have been chasing is the one that will destroy me.

Dark Romance Standalone

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

ONE

CRESSIDA

Case Notes

Assess how he is in a place that is not work.

People are sweaty. Loud. Drunk. Disgusting, really. The air reeks of spilled beer and desperation as voices clash over who will win. Pushing through the crowd, I bump shoulders with a lot of men, even some women dressed in barely-there clothes as they scream at the two men fighting in the ring.

Something lands on my cheek, and I wipe it away, realizing it’s more than likely someone’s spit, and I instantly recoil in disgust. The air is muggy from so many people crammed together in such a tight space. The closer I get to the ring, the stronger the metallic scent of blood and stale alcohol becomes, mingling with the unmistakable tang of sex.

Clutching my phone in one hand and my keys in the other, I continue walking until I reach the center, which is roped off. I’m actually amazed that no one steps over it, as it’s not much of a barrier. One man, clearly knocked out and not able to walk, is being dragged away by two other men while the announcer, a woman dressed in leather, steps into the middle of the makeshift ring. She looks like she could be one of the wrestlers on television, the perfect mix of bulky and beautiful.

“Now, we all know our next fighter is a regular here,” she begins. “But his opponent is someone new, someone exciting. He’s been known to win a fight or two, and we are excited to have him.”

Everyone starts clapping, and I watch as people shift to make room for the two men who walk out toward either side of the ring. Loud cheers echo through the room as the newcomer, dressed only in boxing shorts and his hands wrapped with some type of material, steps into the ring. And then the cheers grow louder as the reason I’m here tonight comes into view. Soren Nixon. Screams erupt, more deafening than for his opponent.

I try to push closer to the front, only managing a spot just behind a couple with a ringside view. The woman looks over her shoulder at me, eyes me up and down, and with a raised brow, she asks, “You in the wrong place?”

I look down at my pants, which are part of a suit. I’d taken the jacket off to blend in, but clearly, I did a terrible job. I’d popped a few of the buttons on my white shirt to tease a little bit of cleavage, but that apparently hasn’t helped, and sweat is pooling between my breasts in the thick heat.

“I’m fucking the fighter,” I reply with a smile, hoping she won’t ask me anything more.

“Yeah, you and every other girl in here wishes.” She laughs as the man with her says something in her ear, to which she shrugs, then redirects her attention back to the two fighters.

I watch Soren bounce from one foot to the other. My eyes can’t help but scan over his thick arms, corded with muscles. His hair is a mess, but somehow fits him perfectly. He’s lethal-looking up there; there’s no point denying that. All I have to do is glance around the room—women and men all stare at him, their gazes hungry and riveted on him. He’s basically sin, wrapped in danger, cloaked in an enigma, and nothing fascinates me more than uncovering people’s secrets, and his I’m very interested in. I’ve been trying to get dirt on him for over a year, and other than the knowledge that he’s a part of some secret society, I don’t have much else. I’ve heard a lot of gossip and rumors, but I have no hard facts. It seems that if anyone talks, they disappear. And when I mentioned the words “the hunt” to him, his face constricted, and I knew he wanted me gone, like I had just touched on something I should not have. His silence says more than words ever could.

It’s not that easy to deter me, though.

I’m determined to find out all his secrets.

Hence, why I’m here.

The crowd starts chanting his name, but he doesn’t seem to care. You can clearly see which fighters are here for the fame and which for the rush. Soren is all about the rush. He doesn’t glance into the crowd, doesn’t need the validation, while the other fighter can’t stop searching faces for approval. Soren has already gone somewhere else—locked in, waiting for the moment when blood and adrenaline will take over.

Someone rings a bell, and before another word is spoken, the two fighters move.

Soren glides along the floor as the other guy steps up to him, fists raised. He swings, and Soren ducks effortlessly. The other guy keeps throwing punches as the crowd chants Soren’s name and shouts for him to “end him.” The fight has barely started, but the other fighter is already missing his mark, growing sloppy and winded with every swing.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >70

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Venomous Attraction Read Online T.L. Smith http://www.ilovenovels.com/venomous-attraction-read-online-t-l-smith Wed, 07 Jan 2026 10:40:28 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/venomous-attraction-read-online-t-l-smith Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Insta-Love Authors: T.L. Smith Advertisement

Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >76

He’s supposed to fix broken minds.
Instead, he’s unraveling mine.
Thread by thread.
Dangerous. Obsessive. Addictive.
He’s not the settling down type.
Too bad I’m not in the market for a fling.
I’ve played the game enough times to know a man like that is used to getting his way.
Before I can stop myself, I’m tangled in his dark web. Paralyzed by the way I want him.
The harder I push, the tighter he pulls.
It started as an attraction, but now it’s bordering on venomous

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

ONE

CORA

There he is. Arlo Graves.

He’s known as one of the leading therapists in the city, and they say it’s almost impossible to get an appointment with him. Yet here he is, walking into my office and shutting the door as if he belongs here.

I’m used to being around powerful men and women, but something about Arlo Graves hits differently. It only takes one look at this man to know there is something dangerous and mesmerizing about him. It’s not just his impeccable style, height, or build. There’s something in his eyes. A knowing look in his stoic gaze as it homes in on me. How his dark yet icy gaze touches on my face, then flits from my cheeks to my chin and back to my eyes. It’s like he knows my deepest, darkest secrets. But not in a therapist capacity, more in a way that makes me feel on edge and unsettled. Almost like there’s an answering darkness in him, a remoteness that sets him apart from other men.

He’s dressed in a black suit with no tie in sight. He’s taller than me, that’s for sure, even with me wearing heels. His presence is intimidating as he stands on the opposite side of my desk. His almost-black-as-midnight eyes stay locked on mine, and he offers me a sly smile.

I’ve had one previous encounter with him when he was looking for a commercial property. I quickly passed him off to one of my top agents because, at the time, I was busy and couldn’t take him on myself.

“Cora, isn’t it?” he asks, holding out his hand. I glance at it with a calm smile, even though my heart is speeding like an F1 race car as I offer him mine. Our palms meet, and he gently squeezes once, then releases his hold. He stands with authority, like he owns this place. But he doesn’t.

I bet this man isn’t used to being told no.

“It is. How can I help you, Mr. Graves? I wasn’t aware we had an appointment. Is Layla not performing to your standards? Has she not found what you’re looking for yet?” I ask as his gaze skims over my bright red top, which complements my honey-blonde balayage hair and my green eyes.

Layla is the agent I put on his account, and I know for a fact she performs well. She wouldn’t be my top agent if she didn’t. He glances around my office before taking a seat. Sitting back down in my chair, I fold my hands on top of the desk as I cross my legs and wait for him to speak.

“She isn’t showing me what I need,” he tells me.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Well, would you like me to find you another agent?”

He rolls his shoulders before he straightens up and looks me dead in the eyes as he says, “No, I want you.”

His words throw me. They don’t sound like he wants someone to help him find a property. No, I get the distinct impression he means something entirely different. But, like any good businessperson, I move past it and act professionally.

“I didn’t have time in my schedule to show you what you needed, so I assigned my best agent to help with that. But since you aren’t satisfied, I can juggle some things around and assist,” I offer, trying to keep steady eye contact, even though it’s hard with the way he assesses me.

“Yes, you should.” His face is stoic as he stares at me.

I smile and nod, trying to ignore the feeling that rushes over me from being around him. “I will. And, again, I apologize, Mr. Graves.” I stand, and he does as well. He doesn’t offer me his hand again to say thank you. Instead, he turns for the door.

As he pulls it open, he looks back over his shoulder at me. “Tomorrow at nine a.m., meet me for coffee to discuss what you have.” I nod, and he gives me the name of a local coffee shop before he strides out the door.

The moment he’s gone, I fall back into my chair and stare at the door. I don’t have time to take on Arlo Graves, but I couldn’t say no. Arlo is an incredibly well-connected man. Plus, he is also extremely business savvy. He owns a lot of property, and while I’ve never helped him before, I have heard stories about him.

He is said to use women, or so I’ve learned from a few of the ladies around the office, not that any of them have slept with him, so it’s all hearsay. But it seems he doesn’t care who finds out because he has heard them, and he has not once commented. He is cold and calculating and, from what I’ve heard, manipulative. I can see it, though, in the way he commands a room when he’s in it.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >76

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Venomous Kiss Read Online T.L. Smith http://www.ilovenovels.com/venomous-kiss-read-online-t-l-smith Wed, 29 Oct 2025 22:15:21 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/venomous-kiss-read-online-t-l-smith Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic, Thriller Authors: T.L. Smith Advertisement

Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >80

The night I catch my husband cheating is the night I stop pretending.

I don’t cry. I don’t scream.

I don’t get mad—I get even.

So I bring home another man.

A stranger with wicked eyes and a smile sharp enough to carve me open. I let him have me in the house I share with a liar.

A moment of weakness? Maybe.

A moment of revenge? Definitely.

But he saw me—the darkness, the hunger, the parts my husband hated—and he wanted more.

I ran before I could fall deeper into his abyss.

A year later, I crash one of the city’s most forbidden parties…

And land right back in the middle of his depraved world.

Only this time, he’s promised to another.

And he vows he’s not letting me go.

*Standalone*

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

LILITH

Dear Diary,

Tonight, I saw him, and I think he saw me too…

xox

I hate my job, hate it. If I could quit, I would.

I drum my nails on the bar as I sit there, drinking straight vodka. My husband tells me it’s not very ladylike and I should have some type of soda with it.

My lips curl at the simple thought of that.

Ladylike.

Fuck him and his ladylike bullshit.

“Two whiskeys.”

I turn to the sound of that voice. I’ve seen him a lot. His deep, gravelly voice hits my ears as he leans against the bar, only inches separating his arm and mine, which is still resting near the glass of vodka I’m nursing.

This is the first time I’ve been this close to him. Lifting my drink to my lips, I watch as he picks up both glasses and walks back to the seating area, not once glancing in my direction, dressed in a black pinstripe suit, hair messy, and eyes that could read your soul.

While I have never looked directly into those eyes, I watch the people around him and how they look at him.

They all seem to worship him if he gives them even a hint of attention.

I would probably, too. Actually, maybe I’d have him do the worshiping.

A small smile touches my lips. It’s something my husband sucks at.

I’ve never really known what I want to do with my life, but I’ve always known it’s not what I am doing right now.

Being a wife, an employee to a boss who couldn’t care less about his staff?

I’d rather slit his throat than work another day.

Bad thoughts…

Bad thoughts…

I have to remind myself that it is not normal.

Wishing someone’s death is not normal.

“Another?” the bartender asks.

I shake my head. I have to go home now. My husband will be expecting me.

So, why does my stomach pitch with dread at having to leave this bar and walk into that sterile, pristine hellhole?

I stand, my heels touch the tiled floor, and when I turn, I find those eyes staring at me from where he sits, even as the person in front of him keeps talking and gesturing with his hands. He watches me with a penetrating gaze, quietly sipping his whiskey as I walk toward the door, and it’s unsettling in the best way.

My heels pause, and I wonder, what does he see?

He smirks, and as he does, I grimace before I turn and walk out.

ONE

LILITH

Dear Diary,

When someone bleeds out, how long does it take them to die?

I’ve googled it, but it gives me different answers.

I hope no one searches my Google history or even this diary.

If my last therapist saw it, that bitch would lock me up and throw away the key.

Damn! That woman is a cunt.

xox

I have bad thoughts.

Really bad thoughts.

And I don’t think it’s normal.

It can’t be, right?

Maybe I was broken somewhere along the way when the right pieces were chipped off and replaced by something more sinister.

Gone.

My husband tells me I have issues and that I should see a therapist.

I don’t want to see a therapist again.

I don’t want to tell a stranger the inner workings of my fucked-up mind; the last one was shit.

I tried that a long time ago, just once, and she told me I should only have happy thoughts.

Like, what the actual fuck does that mean?

How do you simply have happy thoughts?

How is that even possible?

Taking a deep breath, I open my car door.

I quit work today. Deven is going to be angry, so I’ve been sitting in the car outside of our house for what feels like ages.

He knows I hate what I do and hate dealing with people.

In fact, I despise most people.

I surprised myself when I married Deven. I’d like to say he got me when I was at my most vulnerable—drunk. But, unfortunately, I was sober.

And now it’s been two years. I had hoped his normalness would rub off on me. Somehow, being a wife, sharing a home, and doing a regular job would tame that darkness inside me.

I first met him through my job—the one I just quit. He was a client at the construction business I worked for. I handled the accounts for all the high-profile clients. He was building a house. It’s the house I’m looking at right now—the one I moved into three years ago, a year before we got married.

I wouldn’t say it was love at first sight.

Honestly, I wonder if it was lust at first sight.

He smiled that perfect white teeth smile and spoke to me one night. He’s a smooth-talker, Deven. I guess that’s how he got his job as a radio host. I never dreamed I would be with someone like him, someone so clean cut, who seems to have their life so put together, or at least I thought so, but he kept coming into the office every day and talking to me.

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Tarnished Hands (Chained Hearts Duet #7) Read Online T.L. Smith http://www.ilovenovels.com/tarnished-hands-chained-hearts-duet-7-read-online-t-l-smith Tue, 05 Aug 2025 19:56:09 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/tarnished-hands-chained-hearts-duet-7-read-online-t-l-smith Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Novella Authors: T.L. Smith Series: Chained Hearts Duet Series by T.L. Smith
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Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >37

In the mafia world, I’ve been underestimated my entire life.

Men are elite. The cream of the crop, and well, women simply aren’t.
That was until the boss gave me a chance, now I’m invaluable and as deadly as any man.
So why do I let a man I had a one-night stand with play with my emotions?
He keeps on sliding his way into my heart, even though I keep trying to kick him right back out.
He knows my world, and he also knows my body.
But what he doesn’t know…
Is me.
And I’m not sure how much longer I can keep fighting him until he wins

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

PIPER

I assumed I would never want more from a man than his body.

That was until him— the man who is standing feet away from me wearing black jeans that hug his ass so perfectly, and a black tank top that molds to his massive, muscular chest, and shows off his tanned skin. And now, I hate him.

My jaw tightens as I watch him smirk—God, I hate that smirk, too. I want to slap it off his gorgeous face. Mostly because it makes my thighs clench, and that is what I hate more than anything.

My eyes flit to his, and staring back at me are the most gorgeous green eyes with tints of blue. But the green is unlike anything I have ever seen. It’s a sparkling green, almost iridescent. His lashes are so long. It should be illegal for men to have such beautiful lashes.

My boss, Keir, nods to him, then walks away as they conclude their business conversation. Usually, I would be there next to Keir, but I chose to stay back this time—away from Ezra, whose gaze kept flicking to me throughout their conversation.

Stalking me like prey.

“You should talk to him,” Keir says as he reaches me.

I suck in a shocking breath at his remark, but I don’t reply. Not that it would do me any good because he doesn’t wait for me to give one before he strides out the door, his brother Joey following him, leaving me alone—and way too close to Ezra.

Ezra runs his own business that specializes in old cars and motorcycles. Most of his cars and bikes come from Keir, who takes possession of them for late payment.

That’s usually if he doesn’t kill the people first.

But Ezra has been with Keir for a few years, always silently working away in the background.

He understands Keir doesn’t meet for friendly chats—it’s always business with him. And Ezra is now an expert at dealing with Keir. Not many can bargain a nice chunk of profit for themselves, which was risky when he first carried out business with him.

It could have gone one of two ways.

Keir could have killed him and taken over the shop. But that would have left a gaping hole regarding who would do all the repairs and sales. Sure, Ezra has a small team, but he’s an expert at what he does, and more importantly, he is committed to silence. Loyal to the marrow of his bones.

Keir respects that more than anything else.

So Keir’s only other option was to agree.

Keir initially approved the business transaction, requesting a high turnover.

But Ezra wasn’t one to take things lying down and lose money on the transactions.

He knew exactly what he was worth, and Keir also respected that about him.

“Do you plan to just stand there?” The words drawl from Ezra’s lips, and I can’t help but stare at said lips. Lips that are soft and rough. Lips that can do very wicked and delicious things, and a body that’s nothing but solid, packed muscle.

I shake my head and turn to walk away, but as I do, my body tingles like it does every time he comes close to me. His hand pauses just short of my skin, like he’s waiting to see if I’ll take a swing at him again.

The first time he laid a hand on me, I turned around and punched him in the stomach.

He wasn’t expecting it.

I didn’t care.

Now he knows better.

But then I had to go and have sex with him just once.

One freaking time. And somehow, he’s altered me in ways no one else has before.

When I close my eyes, I dream of his lips all over my body. And even when I open them, I can still smell him.

Cigars and honey—it’s such an odd combination, but the scent is divine with a touch of grease.

“Stay,” he demands as one of his big hands encircles my wrist. I ignore the way his touch sizzles across my skin, before turning around, glancing at his grease-covered hand, then giving him a blank, disgusting stare.

I hate how I don’t mind that he’s always covered in some type of car grease. I remember washing that grease off my body only a few weeks ago when he came to one of Joey’s parties. I may have had too much to drink and gone back to his place for the night. Then I snuck out and haven’t seen him since.

Not that he would know where to find me outside of business unless I wanted him to.

Even so, I assumed it would be easy to forget about him.

A meaningless one-night stand.

But I haven’t been able to get him out of my head since.

And how do Keir and the rest of them know? Well, I suppose my making out with Ezra that night was a clear indicator.

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Mischievous Lies (Vengeful Lies #5) Read Online T.L. Smith http://www.ilovenovels.com/mischievous-lies-vengeful-lies-5-read-online-t-l-smith Mon, 30 Jun 2025 19:07:48 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/mischievous-lies-vengeful-lies-5-read-online-t-l-smith Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Authors: T.L. Smith Series: Vengeful Lies Series by T.L. Smith
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >101

Hawke Ivanov is known to excel at two things. Sex and violence. It’s why I never took our fling seriously, accepting it with no strings attached.
Except now, his mischievous ways have become all-consuming, and I’m his new obsession, especially after one night that changed everything between us.
Hawke is using me to run away from his own demons, and when I realize it’s not only matters of our bodies but hearts as well, I tell him sweet little lies to keep him away.
All I wanted was a good boy in my bed. The last thing I needed was a dangerous man carving his way into my heart, especially when he was the one to be feared the most.

A all-new Standalone in the Vengeful Lies series.

From USA Today and Amazon Top 25 Best Selling Author duo, a new Standalone Dark Romance in the same world as the Lethal Vows

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Ivy

“Ireckon they’re a handful,” the guy across from me says as he stares down at my tits. Raising a brow at him, I wonder if I should lean across the table and punch him. Because, let’s be honest, his face might look better after a reconfiguration. Or maybe I should let it go. “You have curves—beautiful ones—and I reckon they’re a handful,” he reiterates as if my delayed response has something to do with a lack of understanding. I try not to laugh as I tuck a piece of my short blonde hair behind my ear.

This is what happens when you decide to go on a spontaneous date with someone off a fucking dating app.

You end up with dickheads.

Some have been enough to entertain me and a few to take the edge off in the bedroom, but none of them are mind-blowing. I like sex. No, I love sex. But finding someone who can keep up with my appetite for it–with my demands and not be emasculated by them? Well, that’s difficult to find here in Manhattan.

Maybe I need to take another trip to Europe. I ponder the thought as he keeps talking about God knows what.

This guy seems the type to have a pole up his ass and a tiny dick. The moment I let him down, he’ll probably call me a slut or a whore because his little man ego can’t handle rejection. But in truth, he’s fucking punching anyway. Meaning I refuse to lower my standards for any man, and I understand my sex drive is frowned upon comparatively to that of men, but I don’t even know why they have such a high level of need when they’re predominantly shit at the act. It just always feels like it’s missing something.

Despite that, I like to fuck and be fucked.

So fuck them all and society’s opinions about a woman getting her fix.

“My place or yours?” he asks, and that brings me back into the conversation. Wow. He really likes the sound of his own voice. Usually, when it gets to this part of the night, I go back to theirs, praying I might at least learn a new trick. I don’t need flowery shit. I just need hard fucking.

Except tonight.

It’s not happening tonight. No, this one is giving me the ick. No matter how horny I might be right now, I’d much rather use my magical little toy that I know is going to be far more effective. It’s not worth letting this guy put his hands on my body, and that speaks volumes as to how much I can’t stand him since we’ve only been sitting here for thirty minutes in a less-than-cute bar, whose drinks are limited to any spirit mixed with soda.

I want to scream. If the date’s shit, at least give me a cute cocktail.

“Aww, look, she’s on a date,” someone interrupts over my shoulder. I recognize the voice, not even tempted to face him.

Sometimes, Manhattan really is too small. My date, who had no issues telling me how amazing he would be in bed or how much of a handful my tits are, goes quiet. And I know why.

I can feel his six-foot-two, built-like-a-truck, lethal presence looming behind me.

Hawke Ivanov.

“Hi,” my date, whose name I can’t seem to remember, says, licking his lips. His gaze slides from Hawke to me only for a second, as if the moment he breaks eye contact, Hawke might pummel his ass. Which, to be fair, might be accurate, depending on his mood. “Do you know him?”

“No, ignore him,” I say, bringing the drink to my lips because handling Hawke can, at times, be far more troublesome than this shit date.

Why is he even here? Trust this asshole to appear out of nowhere. Shouldn’t he be focusing on his own conquests?

“Come on now, lover, you ignoring me?” I bite the inside of my cheek, keeping my eyes glued to my date. And that’s when I feel Hawke getting closer, his breath tickling my ear as he leans down and says, “You look real good tonight. Good enough to eat. But I don’t know if your date has the appetite for a woman like you.”

This cocky, insufferable asshole.

Turning to face him is a mistake because he didn’t pull away. Instead, I find his lips hovering against mine. His dark, almost-black eyes take me in. His black hair is messy, and tattoos peek out from the casual shirt he’s paired with well-worn jeans.

“You smell even better,” he adds, and I open my mouth to unleash hell when his lips suddenly land on mine. His tongue twines with mine, provoking my most primal needs, and it’s an immediate dance as he devours me like we’re lovers who haven’t seen one another for several days. Tingles rush over my skin, and the moment my body wants to pull him in closer is when my senses snap back to reality, and I jerk away.

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Conflicted Lies (Vengeful Lies #4) Read Online T.L. Smith http://www.ilovenovels.com/conflicted-lies-vengeful-lies-4-read-online-t-l-smith Mon, 12 May 2025 18:28:32 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/conflicted-lies-vengeful-lies-4-read-online-t-l-smith Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Authors: T.L. Smith Series: Vengeful Lies Series by T.L. Smith
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >105

Detective Braxton Hero should keep his distance from me. Even though I can’t seem to stay away from him.

Letting him get too close is a mistake. One I can’t stop making.

He sees me. The woman I pretend to be, and the one behind the mask. And for the first time, I don’t know which version is real.

Even though I’ve spent my life in the shadows, I’ve never been conflicted about who I am…until he blurred the lines. The thought of him seeing my darkness does something to me.

He makes me want things. Things I can’t have.

A life that isn’t mine to take.

A love built on lies.

A all-new Standalone in the Vengeful Lies series.

From USA Today and Amazon Top 25 Best Selling Author duo, a new Standalone Dark Romance in the same world as the Lethal Vows

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Hope

I know it’s wrong. I shouldn’t be here. But I got sucked into it anyway. Charlotte runs off, laughing with a concoction of too much alcohol and adrenaline pumping through her veins. I try to catch up to her, but I’m tired, and there’s also way too much alcohol in my system.

I want to sleep.

“Hope, you better run, girl,” she yells from too far ahead of me.

I wave her off and decide fuck it I don’t care. It’s not that I’m unfit, but I don’t care for running even if we’re being chased. Charlotte looks back once but doesn’t stop as she runs through Central Park in the dark. I huff, defeated as I drop to the wet grass and lie back, soaking my jeans.

Trying to catch my breath, I don’t even hear their footsteps approach until they come to a stop and bark a command.

“On your feet, miss,” one of the two men says.

Oh, fuck me. Let me catch my breath first.

“Can’t a girl rest?” I whine, not even opening my eyes.

“Now,” the second voice says, far more lethal than the first.

I huff and open my eyes. Yep, definitely the same two police officers—the ones Charlotte stole from—are looming over me. While I lie here like a fool. Honestly, I didn’t realize what she was doing until she grabbed something and yelled for me to run.

“You can’t tell me what to do.” I scrunch my nose at them. The first officer, whose wallet Charlotte stole, is shaking his head, clearly pissed. The second one, who is tall and built like a military man, is wearing a hat that covers his eyes.

“Of course we can,” he says and then shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls out a badge, flashing it at me. I narrow my eyes at it. To be honest, it’s a little bit blurry, and I know it has nothing to do with my wet glasses and everything to do with the too many margaritas, which is not a problem, in my opinion.

“That’s fake,” I say, being ignorant.

“No, it’s not,” he argues.

“It totally is. “Would you believe me if I pulled one out right now? I doubt it.” I argue back.

“Fucking hell, woman, where is the wallet?” He huffs, putting his badge back in his pocket. I lie back down and look up at the dark sky, pushing my glasses up my nose so they don’t fall off.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, too tired for this. My legs are heavy, and I have a stitch in my side. Okay, maybe I’m not as fit as I thought.

“Cuff her,” he tells the second officer.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” I seethe, my eyes flying open.

The one with the cap has a slight smirk as he leans down to grab me. He pulls me up by my wrist, but I shove back, immediately landing back on my ass. Fuck, those margaritas went straight to my head.

“Jesus, how drunk are you?” the first cop scoffs.

I look away, indignant, despite my current messy state. “That’s none of your business. And if you don’t step back, I’ll scream.”

“Good, scream,” he says as the officer in the cap attempts to cuff me again. When he reaches for my hands, I move quickly, trying to get back to my feet. Apparently, it was too quickly because my head spins, and I fall again.

Fuck me. Was it the margaritas or extra tequila shots we had? How many did I have?

They both start laughing, and that makes me even more mad. “Put your hands behind your back,” Mr. Authority with the hat says.

“Fuck off,” I snap back.

“I don’t remember you having this much attitude. You seemed far tamer back then,” cap cop notes.

What?

I’m suddenly lifted up, and before I can ask what he means, my hands are cuffed behind my back. I try to fight it, break them apart, but my shoulders scream. To say I’m not fit is an understatement, but this is sobering. If only I ran a little longer. Then again, looking at the heights and builds of the two men, and me only coming in at five foot three, they have the advantage.

“You don’t know me. I don’t associate with police,” I spit. He seems to find that hilarious, laughing as he half drags me through Central Park because my legs keep crossing over one another.

I try a few times to fall backward to avoid the inevitable. He grabs the cuffs and lifts me again. It hurts. “I can throw you over my shoulder and carry you instead if your legs are suddenly broken,” Mr. Authority taunts. His partner is walking slightly ahead of us now.

“Be my guest. But don’t bitch when I bite at your throat,” I growl as I stand on my feet again.

“I might like it, Shortcake, so be careful what threats you’re making.”

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Addicted Lies (Vengeful Lies #3) Read Online T.L. Smith http://www.ilovenovels.com/addicted-lies-vengeful-lies-3-read-online-t-l-smith Thu, 17 Apr 2025 13:14:59 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/addicted-lies-vengeful-lies-3-read-online-t-l-smith Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Forbidden, Mafia Authors: T.L. Smith Series: Vengeful Lies Series by T.L. Smith
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >104

He gets addicted to things too easily…and I’m no exception.

Ford Ivanov follows the rules.

I was born to break them.

A single scandalous moment turns into a year of lies, stolen kisses behind closed doors, and whispered promises in the night.

Sneaking around with my brother’s friend is forbidden. Because where I come from, love isn't just dangerous. It’s deadly. The lies are unraveling. And in a world where love is a weakness, we’re about to find out just how strong we really are.

A all-new Standalone in the Vengeful Lies series.

From USA Today and Amazon Top 25 Best Selling Author duo, a new Standalone Dark Romance in the same world as the Lethal Vows

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Billie

One year ago

He’s across from me, the one who always stares and rarely speaks but will happily take any of the candies I have on me—sometimes without so much as a “thank you.” I never know what he’s thinking, though the others around him are slightly easier to read—in an unhinged way—since I grew up with them.

I know all of these men as well as anyone who’s related or married to them. The one I’m closest with, who just so happens to be the bane and cause of my non-existent love life, is my brother, Dutton. He has issues with men being around me in any context. If a man talks to me, by the next day, he’s actively avoiding walking within my vicinity. If someone asks me on a date, they’re suddenly nursing a ghastly wound. If someone touches me… Well, there have been instances which they don’t reappear. At all.

He’s even advised the two men currently escorting me out of my cousin’s home that if they touch me, he’ll kill them. And they’re friends. So, yeah, I’m royally fucked. He treats me like a child, and my father seems to have no issues with it, going so far as to encourage the barbaric behavior. I’m glad for once he’s preoccupied in Italy for work while I’m home from college for a few weeks.

“Okay, little tornado, I think it’s time we send you back to your palace where you’re nice and snug and where no one can touch you,” Hawke jokes as he throws an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in. I glare at him because I know ordinarily he doesn’t make a habit of touching me, although he does it on purpose sometimes in order to antagonize my brother.

Hawke is the bulkier of the twins, spending way too much time hitting the gym and less on his intellect. The guy’s a moron, but maybe I’m biased. Ford’s body is leaner, but there’s something about him that just sucks me in, like a mysterious vortex. I’ve always been curious to see what I might find if I could peel back his layers. Both of them are heavily tattooed and give off a dangerous vibe, so much so that most people stay clear of them.

“No, I want to go out,” I say, stomping my foot. I’ve already had a few drinks, and I’m not ready to go home yet.

Ford looks up from his phone for what seems like the first time since being here. His dark brown, almost black eyes seem to stare straight through me, and it’s unsettling. “We’re not taking you out. Are you trying to get us killed?”

Hawke laughs. “Come on, little tornado wants to have some fun before big bro comes and spoils it all.”

“I never invited you,” I say to Ford as he intently watches me fish a lollipop out of my handbag. I can sense the shift in his mood the moment I do. It’s almost like rewarding a dog. He’ll really do anything for sweets. “But say if I were to tag along with you two, I’m sure a few hours might be okay, right?”

He stares at the lollipop in my hand as I step closer to him with a knowing smile. The deadly atmosphere doesn’t change around him, but I already know he’s a goner. These two men are lethal, but not to me. They both work for my cousin, Eli, who is now the head of the Monti family, but I’ve never once feared them, especially when I’m offering candy.

“You think a lollipop can bribe me?” Ford asks.

“You’ve never turned down any of the sweets I’ve offered you,” I say as I pop a hand on my hip. “I’ve been super stressed at college. Please let me just have this one night while Dutton is out of town.”

Ford looks at me—really looks at me—as if it’s the first time he’s seeing me. I puff out my chest, trying to make myself look bigger next to his six-foot-two height. His large, callused hand wraps around the lollipop. “Do you have more of those in your bag?”

Little does he know I always carry a packet around with me. At first, they were my favorite snacks when I was studying, but I always carry a bag now when I’m hanging with the twins because I find it amusing that such a scary guy enjoys sucking on lollipops. “More than you can ever imagine,” I reply with a smile. “So, where are we going, boys?”

“Boxers.” Hawke laughs as he slings his arm over my shoulder again and leads me toward the car. I sit in the back seat as Ford drives silently, lollipop hanging out of his mouth. I really can’t believe it’s that easy to convince a guy like him to agree to my bidding.

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Promiscuous Lies (Vengeful Lies #2) Read Online T.L. Smith http://www.ilovenovels.com/promiscuous-lies-vengeful-lies-2-read-online-t-l-smith Mon, 10 Mar 2025 19:24:59 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/promiscuous-lies-vengeful-lies-2-read-online-t-l-smith Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Suspense Authors: T.L. Smith Series: Vengeful Lies Series by T.L. Smith
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >97

I use my body to make men fall to their knees. I just wasn’t expecting a man as powerful as my boss to fall for the act.

Dutton Taylor is a man who is not used to hearing no. Good thing denying dangerous men just so happens to be my specialty.

The past broke me and I refuse to be tempted by promiscuous lies. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my son and the new life I’ve built for us.

We should keep our distance. But my body doesn’t get the memo… and neither does he.

A all-new Standalone in the Vengeful Lies series.

From USA Today and Amazon Top 25 Best Selling Author duo, a new Standalone Dark Romance in the same world as the Lethal Vows

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Posie

Ididn’t plan to work here; it wasn’t exactly on my career path. I didn’t wake up one day and say, today is the day I will become a stripper.

But here I am, two months in, working as a fucking stripper. If my parents were alive, I’m sure they would be really fucking proud.

Not.

But that’s what happens when you have bills and a body you can use to pay those bills.

A fucking stripper.

Yep, that’s what I grumble in my head every night when I have to pay the babysitter to watch my son so I can shake my ass for men who are more than likely cheating on their wives.

Fuckfaces.

“Posie, you’re late,” Paula says. I roll my eyes because I’m always late. It’s the one constant about me. She should be used to it by now, but I make up for it when I bring in the money. I only work here twice a week, sometimes only once. And I make enough on those nights to pay my bills and put food on the table. At the moment, that’s what I’m happy with; it’s all I need. Once my son starts school, it will be a different scenario, but right now, I want to give him all of me like my own mother did for me when I was a kid. So I work one to two nights here instead of getting a full-time job because it pays the same.

“I’m here,” I reply, throwing my things on the counter and pulling out my makeup bag. “You know I can get ready quickly.” I slip off my dress, revealing hot-pink lingerie.

Paula is more adamant about my tardiness tonight as she stands behind me while I touch up my hair and makeup. “I told you I needed you to be on time tonight. The boss doesn’t usually come in, and you still haven’t met him.” She throws her hands up in the air. “You know he likes to meet everyone.”

So I’ve been told.

And I still don’t care.

I don’t work as much as the other girls do, and ass-kissing isn’t exactly my thing.

“Is he still here?” I ask, in between applying my soft-pink lipstick. I don’t care if he is, but I’m pretending to be at least a little bit interested.

“He’ll be leaving soon,” she says, side-eyeing me.

“Okay, next time, then.”

She sighs and walks away, shaking her head. Paula and I have an interesting relationship. She gave me a job when I desperately needed it, and I work my ass off to bring in good money and tips. She won’t admit it, but I know she likes me.

“You really piss her off,” Samantha, one of the other dancers, says next to me. I can’t help but smile, not even attempting to deny it.

“Posie, you better be ready because you’re up in ten,” Paula calls out. It irritates her that I’m always ready and presentable for my sets despite being late.

I throw a barely-there cover-up over my lingerie and smirk as Samantha waits for her turn to dance. “Have fun,” she calls out as I wave her off and open the door to wander the main floor. The lights are dimmed to focus everyone’s attention on the current girl dancing on the stage. Seats circle the stage, with private booths scattered throughout the main room. In the center is a bar, and one of the other girls stands there, waiting to take her customers’ drinks out.

I admire the woman on stage, but I know all eyes will be drawn to Samantha when she comes out. She earns the most tips. I’m second to her, and she fucking works her ass off for it. She’s an amazing dancer who is studying it as a profession, but like all of us here, she struggles to pay her bills, let alone pay for dance lessons. Working here fixes that.

I skirt along the edges of the room, eyeing the night’s patrons. I smile as men’s gazes roam what is usually off-limits, although, for the right price, they can touch. I rarely let that happen. Men are easy. They want what they can’t have. And they’re willing to pay for it.

When I overheard two women discussing what strippers could potentially earn, I looked into clubs in Manhattan. Two weeks later, I met Paula by chance at the hospital. My son was running a fever, and her husband was sick that night as well. Although I usually keep to myself, we were in the same room, and she mentioned her workplace. Pearl is an exclusive, invite-only gentlemen’s club, which means the clientele has plenty of money to spare.

Most importantly, this one has the best reputation for keeping the girls safe. And they do. I get walked to my car every night. And if I feel unsafe, I even have the option of having security drive me home. So if I have to dance my ass off for money, I want to do it somewhere extra safe.

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Vengeful Lies (Vengeful Lies #1) Read Online T.L. Smith http://www.ilovenovels.com/vengeful-lies-vengeful-lies-1-read-online-t-l-smith Wed, 12 Feb 2025 07:22:21 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/vengeful-lies-vengeful-lies-1-read-online-t-l-smith Genre: Action, Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Authors: T.L. Smith Series: Vengeful Lies Series by T.L. Smith
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Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >112

Dear Kitten,

Marry me and I’ll give you the world.

Refuse, and I’ll burn yours to the ground.

Sincerely,
Your soon-to-be husband

It started out as a hit. One bullet. One man.

My orders are clear—get close to the mafia heir, Eli Monti, play with his head, and wait for the signal to end it. End him.

I thought he would be my easiest mark yet. But somehow I’m the one being played.

Eli always gets what he wants and now, he wants me.
His vengeful proposal isn’t a request. It’s a demand.

When you play games with a man who's been mastering them all his life, you learn some new tricks.

Top of the list: Find the best way to kill my fake fiancé.

From USA Today and Amazon Top 25 Best Selling Author duo, a new Standalone Dark Romance in the same world as the Lethal Vows

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Eli

Another fucking note. What the actual fuck? A tic runs through my jaw as I press the buzzer, and the voice of one of my security team comes over the speaker.

“How can I assist you, Mr. Monti?”

“Who was in my apartment?” I demand, looking toward the bathroom, where the note is pinned to the door by a fucking knife.

I bounce between my apartment in New York City and my mansion just outside of it, staying in whichever suits my needs at the time. Both places have had security breaches recently.

“No one, sir. As instructed, no one is to enter unless they’re with you.”

Fucking hell. I hang up.

Who’s the crafty little motherfucker barking up the wrong tree? Someone who seems to want a very slow and painful death. I really didn’t want to install security cameras within my own home, but it turns out I might have to do exactly that.

I pull the knife from the door, letting the crumpled piece of paper fall to my hand. I unfurl the scrunched-up ball and read the note written in bright red pen.

Why is your underwear so neat and tidy, asshole?

I clench my jaw. I swear to God, if this is Hawke playing a prank, I’ll gut him for it. Then again, the kiss mark at the bottom of the note might indicate a woman. I know better than to underestimate a woman. However, I also know better than to underestimate my less-than-mentally-stable friends.

I fist the note as I walk into my bedroom to find everything in perfect order, as it should be. My left eye twitches at the one drawer wide open… my underwear drawer. I walk over to it and slice a quick glance down, and my teeth grind in irritation. “What the actual fuck?” I say out loud.

Whoever is fucking with me is good, I’ll give them that. They know how to break into my apartment without leaving a trace, find my fucking underwear, and leave a dead fucking rat in it.

Maybe it’s not Hawke. Maybe it’s his twin, Ford? He’s a little more silent, but I wouldn’t put it past him. They were, after all, adopted at fifteen by Anya Ivanov, head of the underground auctions. Even her husband, River, is known for his creative messages and executions, and I can say, at the very least, the twins are unpredictable. The only person who can keep them in line is their mother because they’re shit scared of her. Hell, I’m even a little scared of her.

But even as a prank, I can’t see why they’d be so tempted to piss me off, especially with the pressure I’m under from the head of the family—my father. And I adamantly refuse to let him or my mother catch wind of this. I deal with my own shit.

It’s infuriating that this has now happened twice, and I still haven’t uncovered the person’s identity. But I will.

Walking into the kitchen, I find a plastic bag and then head back to my bedroom, where I use the bag to pick the fucking rat from my underwear drawer. Now that I think about it, the whole drawer needs to go. And I need new fucking underwear.

It doesn’t take me long to throw out my entire drawer and make a few quick calls for everything to be replaced. I’m adjusting the cuffs of my suit as I step out of my apartment complex. I deal with all manners of filth and torture, but something about a dead rat is just undignified.

“Took your sweet-ass time!” Hawke complains, leaning against my car. His twin, Ford, is flicking through his phone as he waits next to him. Though the two are identical, Hawke has a bulkier build from his extreme love of lifting weights, whereas Ford has a slimmer build, which is better suited for stealth. Both have tattoos, and people actively give a wide berth as they step around them—the two ooze mischief, hell, and death. The jet-black hair and dark brown, almost black eyes do nothing to counter otherwise.

“You said you just had to change your shirt, so what took you so long?” Ford asks, looking up from the phone and pinning me with those dark-brown eyes. I may or may not have just tortured someone, leading me to need to change shirts. I certainly wasn’t expecting to find a dead fucking rat before my next meeting.

I ignore them both. They answer to me, not the other way around. Where my father has only one loyal second, I have two.

“Neither one of you happens to be into wearing lipstick these days, do you?” I ask dryly.

The two share a confused glance. “Only around my cock,” Hawke replies as he kicks off my car and comes toward me. As he does, a woman wearing black heels barges between us.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >112

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Misguided Vows – Lethal Vows Read Online T.L. Smith http://www.ilovenovels.com/misguided-vows-lethal-vows-read-online-t-l-smith Tue, 28 Jan 2025 08:14:50 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/misguided-vows-lethal-vows-read-online-t-l-smith Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Authors: T.L. Smith Advertisement

Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >93

We met because of a job.

We played because he made a bet.

We carried on because we couldn’t stop.

Now we’re in too deep, and the secrets of our pasts will catch up.

It’s supposed to only be a fling, but it’s started a fire.

One that we’re both in denial about.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Alina

“If you tell me one more time to move, I will move you.” I point my finger in the man’s face. Sure, he’s a bouncer thrice my size and blocking me from getting into the club, and I may or may not have drunk too much, but that’s precisely why I’m certain I can take him on.

But now I’m sobering up.

Because of this asshole.

“You go! Go and tell the owner who you’re not letting in,” I scream at him.

He crosses his arms over his puffed-out chest.

I want to kick him between the legs, hard.

But then the small voice of reason in the back of my mind reminds me that assaulting him might give me a night behind bars. I’m not really in agreement with that voice right now though.

But what else can I do? I stare at the badge clipped to his pants pocket that identifies him as security. It reads “Wilson.”

More like “Asshole.”

“Fucking hell,” I mutter as I reach into my bag and begin pushing shit around to find the invite. I swear I threw it in here, though I may have thrown it away.

I’ve been in England for almost a year—beautiful London. And while I don’t plan to stay permanently, I couldn’t pass up the opportunities that came with moving here, and I’ve come to love living here—except for moments like this with assholes like Wilson.

I shoot him the evil eye as I messily search through my belongings.

I design layouts for clubs and make them… more unique, like the club that this asshole is currently barring me from. I’m the designer. And tonight is the opening night. I didn’t plan to come, but the owner sent me an invite, and I had one too many glasses of wine after work and decided to actually show up. I tend to make it a thing to only visit the clubs I go to once or twice. I don’t know why; I think maybe it helps keep my creative juices flowing to seamlessly move from one project straight to the next. I see something and think I can make that better. What can I do differently here? How can I leave my mark?

Next time, however, perhaps I should suggest to the owner to not hire such assholes as security.

I hiccup as l finally feel what I hope is the invitation. When I go to pull it out, someone bumps into me from behind and my phone falls from my other hand.

Is it fuck over Alina night or what?

When I look up, a man is standing casually with his hands in his pockets. The first thing I notice are the bluest eyes I have ever seen as he looks me over. He kicks up an arrogant smile, forming a single dimple, as I blatantly stare at him. And I remind myself that even when drunk it’s not okay to so obviously drool over a man. They don’t need those kinds of confidence boosters.

“Come in, sir,” the bouncer welcomes him.

Are you fucking kidding me?

I see red. Mister blue eyes bends down, picks up my phone, and hands it to me while the arrogant smile never leaves his lips. I swipe it from him, seriously wanting to wipe that smug expression from his face.

“Most women would say thank you. But who am I to teach etiquette to a stranger?” he says with a thick British accent. My jaw drops and, for the first and probably only time in my life, I’m speechless. He casually shrugs as he goes to walk past the bouncer.

“You just let him in. What, does he, like, fuck the owner or something?” I’m fully aware I’m yelling now and everyone around us can hear me. But I’ll be fucked if I’m just going to be pushed around like this.

Mr. Blue Eyes scrunches his nose, as if torn as to whether he should keep walking or not, but he stops long enough to shoot me a patronizing glare. No, it’s not the stare that infuriates me, it’s that fucking smile. “I’m no bouncer, but I imagine even if you did have an invitation, there’s no way you’re getting in. You’re clearly intoxicated,” he says in his thick accent.

“And you’re clearly an asshole, but apparently they don’t discriminate for that,” I say as I flip him off.

It looks like he bites the inside of his cheek and steps out of the way as a woman comes through the front doors.

“Alina.” Maria, the owner of the club bounces out, shocked, as she eyes the bouncer. Mr. Blue Eyes seems to have vanished into the club. “What are you doing out here?” she asks, and waves for me to come in. I point to her bouncer with a perfectly manicured nail and narrow my gaze.

“I’ve been telling this man I was invited, and he has persisted that I should remain outside and freeze.”

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