Sweet Sabotage
212 Views · Ongoing · Nia Kas
Everyone calls Knox Riker a king, but I know the truth. He’s just a suit-wearing sociopath with a God complex and a revolving door of women.
For four years, we were at each other’s throats. We spent every waking second trying to bankrupt one another, sabotaging deals just for the sport of it. Then came the merger, the strategic marriage i had it but there was Billions on the line. I knew I would be living eighteen months of absolute, unadulterated hell. I thought the divorce papers would be my get-out-of-jail-free card. I was wrong.
Since the ink dried, we haven't stopped crashing into each other. He was alway around playing untouchable with some new blonde hanging off his arm, smirking at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking. It was infuriating, but let’s be honest: when we end up behind closed doors, the hate-fucking is the only thing that keeps me sane.
We’re a disaster. He wants to own me, and I want to see his empire crumble, but we’re both completely addicted to the friction. He’s obsessed even if he’d rather choke than admit it and I’m just as hooked. But neither of us is going to break. Neither of us is going to be the one to say “I want you” first.
He’s currently parading his latest trophy, acting like I didn't spend a year and a half being the only one who could handle his demons. He thinks he’s moved on? Please. He’s just looking for a new way to get a rise out of me.
He can keep his playboy act, and I’ll keep my pride. But one of us is going to snap, and God help us both when we finally stop playing games and admit we’re still burning for each other.
For four years, we were at each other’s throats. We spent every waking second trying to bankrupt one another, sabotaging deals just for the sport of it. Then came the merger, the strategic marriage i had it but there was Billions on the line. I knew I would be living eighteen months of absolute, unadulterated hell. I thought the divorce papers would be my get-out-of-jail-free card. I was wrong.
Since the ink dried, we haven't stopped crashing into each other. He was alway around playing untouchable with some new blonde hanging off his arm, smirking at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking. It was infuriating, but let’s be honest: when we end up behind closed doors, the hate-fucking is the only thing that keeps me sane.
We’re a disaster. He wants to own me, and I want to see his empire crumble, but we’re both completely addicted to the friction. He’s obsessed even if he’d rather choke than admit it and I’m just as hooked. But neither of us is going to break. Neither of us is going to be the one to say “I want you” first.
He’s currently parading his latest trophy, acting like I didn't spend a year and a half being the only one who could handle his demons. He thinks he’s moved on? Please. He’s just looking for a new way to get a rise out of me.
He can keep his playboy act, and I’ll keep my pride. But one of us is going to snap, and God help us both when we finally stop playing games and admit we’re still burning for each other.















































