"Mmm. Aaah! Oh yes! Adam!"

…

"What's wrong? Why did you pull away?"

"I'm done. I have things to do. Once you get dressed, leave."

"Adam."

"Why do you treat me like this? I'm your girlfriend, not your whore."

"What's the difference? They both serve the same purpose."

"You're such a jerk."

"And yet you never leave, because you know exactly what's best for you."

"I'm going to take a shower. When I come out, you won't be here anymore."

"Idiot."

Adam's POV

My name was Adam Keller. I was thirty years old, and I owned half the buildings in this city. How did I get here? Through sacrifice, and by never letting myself fall in love with a skirt. Women were dangerous, and the man who fell in love always lost.

I was attractive. Very attractive. A full-blown Adonis. My ego matched my success. I had a girlfriend named Helena. Sexy, curvy, beautiful, and empty-headed. She was good for one thing only, satisfying my most basic needs. She thought we were going to get married someday, but she was delusional. I would never marry a woman with only five brain cells. One to eat, one for sex, one to use the bathroom, one to shop, and the last one to say stupid things.

I wasn't the kind of man who married a woman like that. It wasn't like getting married was my dream either. But these intense blue eyes, this perfectly trained body, every muscle sculpted, this smooth skin, these well-defined lips, and this impressive package would only ever belong to a woman of substance. And I didn't mean a gigantic fat woman. I meant a woman who was big in every sense of the word. Intelligent. Capable. Independent. Beautiful. Sexy. Educated. Classy. A woman who talked about things more interesting than fashion and makeup.

And she had to know how to cook. I hated women who didn't know how to cook. It wasn't sexism, but what the hell did they eat if they didn't cook? Did they survive on water alone? My mother said that was what chefs and household cooks were for. But I wanted a woman who cooked for me the same way I would cook for her. I wasn't asking for much. Just reciprocity.

After showering, I walked back into my bedroom and found the annoying Helena still in my bed. This woman only left when I handed her my card. I was getting tired of her.

"Love, I just got a message from your mother."

"My mother?"

"Yes."

"What does she want?"

"She's inviting me to dinner tonight with some business partners. She says you'll be there and wants me to go with you."

"My mom said that?"

"Yes."

"Partners? What partners? Why would they need you there?"

"I don't know. I guess she wants to officially introduce me as your girlfriend."

I laughed. "That's impossible. No offense, but my mother would rather announce that I was dating a pig than admit you and I were a couple. You shouldn't go. She might try to humiliate you in front of her partners."

"Absolutely not. I'm going. She'll see that I'm not just a beautiful woman, I'm worthy of standing by your side."

"If you say so. Just don't say I didn't warn you. I know my mother, and I can promise you I wouldn't lift a finger to help you at that dinner."

"Relax. I'll have everything under control."

"Fine. Now get out. I needed to get dressed and go to work."

"I can watch you while you get dressed."

"No. You'd try to have sex again, and in case you haven't noticed, it's already past ten. I have to work. Money doesn't make itself."

"Fine…"

After Helena finally left, I went to my company, which I had founded without any help from my parents. They had their own businesses. On the way, I called my mother. To my surprise, she confirmed not only the dinner invitation, but also her intention to present Helena as my official girlfriend, supposedly with no other agenda.

I didn't like this at all.

My mother was far too clever. She was definitely plotting something, and I needed to stay alert. I could accept almost anything from her, except being forced into an engagement with Helena. And I had a strong feeling that this invitation came dangerously close to exactly that.