AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Liam Donovan is the most notorious playboy in New York, a man that goes through women so fast that even the tabloids fail when trying to play catch-up with him. Oddly enough, Misty is the first woman to come in here and ask me to take care of Liam. You’d think that some disgruntled ex-girlfriend of his would have already knocked at my door by now, but nope - Misty is the first one.
It was only a matter of time for this to happen, though, and I knew it. Lust Muscle and Liam Donovan embody opposite ideas, and these ideas have been on a collision course ever since the first Homo Assholius broke a woman’s heart.
“You’ll do it, won’t you?” Misty whispers, grabbing my hands and looking at me with tears brimming in her big eyes. “You can break his heart, right? You’re the best at this, aren’t you?”
“I am,” I tell her, feeling absolutely sure that this job is going to be a complete nightmare. Still, the bigger the nightmare, the bigger my payday is. “I’ll do it. I’ll bring Liam Donovan down.”
/>
“YES!” Misty squeals, jumping up to her feet. Her Yorkie whimpers as she moves, but she clutches him close her chest and he closes his eyes with a bored expression. “YES! FINALLY! He’s so done!” She continues, the sorrow in her face now replaced by exultant joy.
“Misty, I’m going to need some information on him and --”
“Oh, you’ll do fine, I’m sure of it,” she replies, waving me down as she picks up her purse from the chair and turns on her heels. “Oh, I can’t wait,” she whispers to herself, looking into my eyes with a wild grin, and then she starts walking out of the office. Her balance seems slightly off, and I realize that she probably didn’t go through half a bottle of champagne this morning - no, she went through the whole bottle.
“I’ll keep in touch,” she tells me, putting on her sunglasses, and then she just leaves, slamming the door behind her.
Oh, what have I gotten myself into?
Cara
“Crap,” I mutter to myself, taking off my reading glasses and rubbing my eyes. I’m sitting in my living room, trying to profile Liam, but it hasn’t been easy. I’ve been at this for God knows how many hours, and my eyes are killing me from staring at the laptop screen without taking a break.
Sighing heavily, I close the laptop lid and throw it to the side. I throw my feet up on the coffee table and I lean back against the couch, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.
Doing recon on Liam is proving to be harder than what I had anticipated. The internet hasn’t been much of an help - all I seem to be able to find is the same recycled bullshit that the tabloids thrive on. There’s nothing substantial in there, absolutely nothing that I can use.
Usually the women that hire my services give me something I can use as an in with the target, but Misty didn’t help with that. She just dumped her problem onto my lap, outsourcing her heartbreak to me. Not that I mind - I’m paid handsomely enough for my efforts. But, still, it’s frustrating as hell.
As notorious as Liam is, he’s a complete mystery. He’s living the high life and breaking hearts all over the city, but I don’t even know exactly what he does for a living. There are a lot of articles talking about how savvy he is with his financial investments, but what the hell does that even mean?
“Ah, screw this,” I sigh, getting up from the couch and picking up my phone from the coffee table. Unlocking the screen, I run my thumb over my contact list and then dial Renee’s number. If there’s someone that can help me with Liam, it’s got to be Renee.
“What’s up, Cara?” She says excitedly, picking up my call after just one tone.
“All good, girl,” I laugh, Renee’s good mood infecting me immediately. She’s the kind of girl that has one these contagious good vibes around her, and that’s probably one of the reasons we became such good friends back in college.
Daughter of a famous hedge fund manager, Renee was part of one of these ridiculous cliques of rich snobbish kids. They drove around campus as if they owned the whole thing, polo shirts draped over their shoulders as they showed off the sports car they bought with their parent’s money.
I’m not saying that all kids that come from wealthy families are assholes, but some of them are. And that was the kind of crowd that Renee was part of; despite that, she never really felt at home with them.
I think that I was actually the first person Renee met that wasn’t from a wealthy family, and I think that was also part of the reason we hit it off so quickly. Renee was hungry to know more about life, and she relished the opportunity of being friends with someone that only had one thing going for her: hard work.
“Listen, Renee, I need some help,” I tell her right away, getting down to business.
“Shoot! Who do you need dirt on, girl?” She laughs, her California accent coming through her words.
“Liam Donovan.”
“Liam Donovan? Is he your next target? Woah, that’s impressive,” she tells me, and I just wait for her to give me whatever information she has on him. You see, despite being friends with me, Renee is still part of the socialite - which means she, more often than not, has information on some of my wealthier targets. And when she doesn’t have that information, she digs it up for me. How she does it, I don’t even want to know. But the fact remains - Renee has been central to the way Lust Muscle has been able to operate successfully ever since I set up shop.
“Yeah, he’s going to be trouble, isn’t he?” I ask her, already anticipating her obvious answer.
“Oh, you betcha. He’s a handful, that’s for sure. Pretty good looking too, and rumours has it that he has a pretty big --”
“Okay, okay, I get it!” I laugh again, biting on my lip to stop my mind from diving straight into the gutter. “I’m going to need an in with him.”
“Yeah…” She replies, sighing into the phone, and I can tell that she’s thinking hard. “I don’t have a lot to give you on him right now, Cara. He’s a well known face, sure, but no one really knows much about Liam. He keeps to himself, you know?”
