...⇾ 𝖓𝖔 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖆𝖑𝖘. 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖞. ⇽...

Money makes the world go round. For Eris Moreau, it's more than just a saying. it's a religion. Born into a world that only ever took from her, she learned the hard way: nothing comes without a price. Every smile, every favor, every second wasted. it all adds up. And Eris refuses to be on the losing end.

So when she lands an internship at Gravelle Enterprises, a corporation that smells of wealth and power, she knows exactly what she wants. She's not here to play nice. She's here to climb, to conquer, to claim.

But there's one problem.

Darian Gravelle.

The man in the immaculate suit, the untouchable CEO with a reputation so pristine it could be framed. People whisper his name with respect, with awe. He moves like a king, speaks like a scholar, and watches like a predator.

Eris knows better than to trust a man like him. A man who never raises his voice yet silences rooms. A man whose hands are too clean for someone who holds this much power.

And when their paths cross, it isn't fate, it's collision.

A game of wits, of sharp smiles and sharper words. A dance where every step is a calculated risk, where the wrong move could mean losing more than just money.

Because the deeper Eris digs, the more she realizes-Gravelle Enterprises isn't just a company. And Darian Gravelle isn't just a businessman.

And some secrets?

Some secrets are worth killing for.

[The base cover is sourced from Pinterest, while the design and concept are entirely my own.]

They say curiosity is a beautiful sin. And if you're here, reading this, then maybe you're ready to taste it.

This is not a story about heroes and heroines. No perfect white knights. No damsels waiting to be saved. This is a story where money tastes sweeter than morals, and love might come wrapped in control, power, or something darker. Where trust is a currency, and loyalty can kill you.

You'll walk through pristine lobbies, marble floors, and glittering jewelry...

But behind every luxury lies a transaction. Behind every smile, an agenda.

The characters you'll meet are not always kind. They manipulate. They withhold. They crave things they shouldn't. Sometimes love will hurt. Sometimes ambition will bleed. Sometimes the lines between seduction and danger blur intentionally.

This story includes themes of emotional manipulation, toxic power dynamics, obsession, and morally grey behavior. It does not always follow what is right, but what feels real to those who've lived in the cracks of survival.

Nothing explicit will be thrown at you without care. But the undertones? They're thick with heat. With tension. With temptation.

So read this as a warning, or an invitation.

You may fall for them.

You may hate yourself for it.

But once you're in...

There's no easy way out.

Welcome to Kiss of Crime.

...✦ 𝔈𝔯𝔦𝔰 𝔐𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔲 ✦...

Eris Moreau knew two things for certain: one, people lie; two, money doesn't. That's why she trusted numbers more than promises-and wore her smile like a polished weapon.

She walked into Vanguard Corp like she already owned half the floor, heels clicking, amber-gold eyes scanning the room the way a predator measures distance before pouncing.

Everyone saw her charm. No one noticed her counting-steps, faces, opportunities. Because Eris wasn't there to dream. She was there to win.

Eris grew up in shadows cast by unpaid bills and slammed doors. Love was conditional, food never guaranteed, and silence was her only shield. She learned early that survival meant smiling while calculating escape routes. Her first currency wasn't cash—it was compliance. But once she got a taste of control, of luxury... she swore she'd never settle for crumbs again.

So now she smiles. Polished. Pretty. Deadly.

✧𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄✧

⟡ 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞: Eris Moreau

⟡ Age: 23

⟡ Occupation: Intern in Corporate Strategy

⟡ Vibe: sunshine smile, survival mode, calculated charm

⟡ Signature traits: warm caramel waves, honey-gold eyes, counting money in her head

⟡ Obsession level: 10/10

⟡ Quote: "If it's legal and pays well, I'll consider it.”

...☗ 𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔞𝔫 𝔊𝔯𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔢 ☗...

Darian Gravelle didn't enter rooms. He consumed them. Silent, suited, and terrifyingly composed, he could say more with one glance than most men could with a monologue.

People whispered his name like a rumor. But Eris? She looked him dead in the eyes and smiled. And that was the moment everything went off-script.

Because Darian Gravelle didn't believe in accidents. He believed in strategy. And she just became part of his next one.

Darian was born into wealth, but raised in war. Not the kind with bloodshed—at least, not always—but the silent kind. Corporate manipulation. Political favors. Assassins in suits. In the Gravelle household, love was performance, loyalty was currency, and power was the only inheritance worth claiming.

Darian, he never lost a game. He just rewrote the rules.

✧𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄✧

⟡ 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞: Darian Gravelle

⟡ Age: 30

⟡ Occupation: CEO of Vanguard Corp

⟡ Vibe: cold control, silk suits, unreadable eyes

⟡ Signature traits: jet black hair, steel-grey gaze, never blinks first

⟡ Danger level: 9/10

⟡ Quote: "Everything has a price. Including you.”

...She was warmth with claws. He was winter in a silk tie. Together, they were gasoline and flame—...

...slow burn, fast ruin. So buckle up. This isn’t a love story. This is a heist—with hearts, bodies, and bank accounts on the line....

...⇾ 𝖓𝖔 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖆𝖑𝖘. 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖞. ⇽...

Neuron:

This story is purely fictional. All names, characters, and events are products of my imagination.

...But if a man like him ever shows up at my door in a tailored suit, calls me by my full name, and says "You belong to me now"

I'm not fighting it. I'm packing a bag.

This book is dark, messy, morally questionable, and probably says a lot about my taste in men. You've been warned. Now come meet the monsters.

...☠ 𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖊 | 𝖊𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 ☠...

...×...

...×...

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...─── ✕ ───...

...×...

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...×...

...⇾ 𝖓𝖔 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖆𝖑𝖘. 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖞. ⇽...

The first thing Eris noticed was the taste of blood on her tongue. Not hers.

Metallic, sharp—like biting down on consequences. It clung to her teeth like guilt, thick and hot and real.

The second was his hand. Wrapped around her throat—not tight enough to cut off air, no. That would be merciful. No, this was measured. Just enough pressure to remind her of what she’d forgotten in her arrogance: She wasn’t the one holding the reins.

Not here.

Not with him.

His fingers pressed into the side of her neck, thumb resting over her pulse like he could feel the chaos inside her—each erratic thud screaming you fucked up, you fucked up, you fucked up. And the worst part?

He wasn’t even angry.

His expression was unreadable. Calm. A calm that made her stomach twist. Darian didn’t need rage to destroy—he needed a decision. And he’d clearly made one.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

The words rolled out slow, a blade she couldn’t quite see coming. His voice was silk drenched in sin, every syllable chosen, sculpted. God, he sounded expensive. Dangerous. Unshakably sure.

Eris swallowed—or tried to. Her throat worked against the pressure of his hand, a pathetic little flutter he probably felt. Her body, traitorous thing, went hot and wired all at once.

He leaned in, just enough for his breath to ghost over her cheek. It was warm. Intimate. Terrifying.

“You should’ve known by now, Eris—” A pause. Not for drama. For control. He always took his time when cornering prey.

“—I don’t lose.”

And there it was. The soft-spoken execution. The line between power and possession blurred and smeared across her skin.

She should’ve been afraid.

Maybe she was.

Heart beating too fast, lungs tight, skin prickling like she’d stepped too close to the edge of something ancient and feral. But she didn’t back down. No. Her fingers—shaking, impulsive—curled into the front of his shirt. Expensive fabric. Of course it was. She clenched like she meant to push him away. She didn’t.

Her mouth opened. No words came out. Maybe she forgot how to speak. Or maybe language felt too small for what was happening in that sliver of silence between them.

The gun lay on the table. Cold metal, lifeless. Unlike him. The papers were signed. The deal, sealed.

She’d come in with a plan. A flawless, bold, stupid plan. She’d played her part with charm and ambition and just the right amount of leg. She knew her value—knew how to weaponize her worth. And it almost worked. Almost.

But this wasn’t poker.

This was him.

And Darian didn’t play games unless he already owned the board and the dealer and the goddamn building.

He tilted his head, studying her. Like she was a puzzle missing a piece he already had in his pocket. That unreadable gray stare dipped to her lips—brief, lethal.

“Nothing to say now?” he murmured.

She hated him. Hated the way he made her skin hum and her judgment fog. Hated the part of her that wasn’t sure she wanted to win anymore.

Because if losing felt like this—This heat, this pressure, this unraveling—Then maybe, just maybe, she didn’t mind breaking.

Her voice finally found its way back, raw and shaky and just a little bit defiant.

“Fuck you.”

His smile was slow, no teeth, just danger. Like a match being lit. “Oh, Eris,” he said softly, like her name was a sin. “You already did.”

...×...

...×...

...×...

...─── ✕ ───...

...×...

...×...

...×...

...☠ 𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖊 | 𝖊𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 ☠...