The Striker (Gods of the Game, #1)

by Ana Huang

Moments like this meant I’d made it and proved my critics wrong—which I had, many times over. After all, I was Asher Fucking Donovan.

I didn’t know much about Scarlett DuBois, but given she was related to Vincent, I knew one thing: I wasn’t going to like her. At all.

“However, I have to commend you on achieving something that I thought was impossible.” “What’s that?” “Making me like someone with the last name DuBois.” I rolled my eyes even as I fought an exasperated laugh. “You are an incorrigible flirt.” “Flirt? Yes. Incorrigible? That’s a matter of opinion.”

“Before you say anything else, this…” I gestured between us. “Ends now.”

Amusement slid across his infuriatingly perfect face. “What’s this?” “The flirting. It’s unprofessional.” “I’m afraid flirting is part of my nature, darling.” Ugh. It should be illegal for any word to sound as delicious as darling did in Asher’s deep, silky voice. “Well, change it or suppress it.” “That’s not how nature works.”

“Like you’re flirting with me. That’s not allowed, remember? It’s one of the rules.” “Do you have many of those?” “What?” “Rules.” “I’m a ballerina. I live by rules.” “That’s too bad.” The light finally turned green, and I broke eye contact to focus on the road. “You’d have more fun without them.”

If her smile was a burglar, her laugh was a fucking thief because I was pretty sure she just stole a piece of my heart from right out under me.

“I think you’re capable of more than you give yourself credit for,” I said. “But at the end of the day, you have to ask yourself what you’d regret more—trying and failing, or not trying at all?”

Look at Eldorra’s royal couple. They overcame a centuries-old law to be together.