Sweet Karma

by Amara Kent

  Copyright © 2019 by Amara Kent

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editing by Marla Esposito of Proof Style.

  Cover Design by Lucy Smoke of Smoking Hot Covers

  Created with Vellum

  To my awesome readers. You guys are the bees knees!

  They say Karma is a bitch... They have no idea.

  Taylor:

  Rule Number One: NEVER fall for the mark.

  This had never been a problem until my new job.

  He is tall, dark and handsome.

  He is arrogant, rude and powerful.

  This was supposed to be a simple revenge job, like all the others. It turned out anything but.

  Dean Lukas is making my steel heart melt, and I'm not ready.

  Dean:

  Rule: Never fall for the people you work for.

  Ever since my last relationship failed disastrously, I vowed to never get involved with anybody I worked with. That is... Until my new PA.

  In the beginning she's nothing to me. Yeah, she's attractive but definitely not worth the hassle.

  And then something happens and she's managed to hook her nails into me.

  She makes me want to throw away my very own rule, and I'm not ready for it.

  Contents

  1. Chapter One

  2. Chapter Two

  3. Chapter Three

  4. Chapter Four

  5. Chapter Five

  6. Chapter Six

  7. Chapter Seven

  8. Chapter Eight

  9. Chapter Nine

  10. Chapter Ten

  11. Chapter Eleven

  12. Chapter Twelve

  13. Chapter Thirteen

  14. Chapter Fourteen

  15. Chapter Fifteen

  16. Chapter Sixteen

  17. Chapter Seventeen

  18. Chapter Eighteen

  19. Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Playlist

  Also by Amara Kent

  “Please, Skylah, sit.” I gesture to the seat across from me. She gives me a wry smile and takes the chair across me.

  Loose-fitting pants, baggy white shirt, and a black bra underneath—an absolute no-no in fashion—and her hair is in a messy bun and not the kind that looks stylish. The one that you see mothers sporting, with the look of tiredness and despair. To put it not so nicely, she looks like absolute shit. Her hands ball together in anxiousness as her eyes flit around the room, looking everywhere but at me. Nerves, it’s the telltale sign of a woman who isn’t quite sure if she wants to proceed with enlisting my services. See, I have a very private, very secret business that caters to women who have been scorned. Women who have been fucked over by a ruthless man that only had one thing on their mind. Sex. The men fuck the women until they’ve had enough and move onto the next. Men are not monogamists by nature, and I don’t give a shit how many of them profess how much they are, they aren’t. They’re all the same: soulless, heartless, closed-minded cowards.

  And I know you’re thinking, you’re too harsh, too generalizing, not all men are like that. To that, I say, you poor, naïve little soul. All men are like that. They may not show you now, in a few months, or even in the next decade, but they do show you their true colors eventually, and then you’ll sit there wishing you had known sooner and dumped their ass.

  I used to be like all of you, thinking that men were wonderful and giving them a chance even though I had been screwed over—and not in the good way—time and time again. The last time was the final straw, and I realized that no matter how many chances I gave them, they always made it their mission to make me suffer. I saw the proverbial light when someone offered me the same thing I’m offering women now, a chance to make men see just how it feels to have your heart ripped out from behind your rib cage with a cruel taunting show-and-tell before they kicked it across the field, never to be seen again. chapter

  And because of that turning point in my life, my very exclusive services, which can only be sourced via word of mouth, was created. I make sure that you get the revenge you want in a semi-legal way. You’d be surprised at how many women seek me out. Twenty and counting to be exact, and that may seem like a low number to you, however, my job, my expertise takes time, and a perfectly executed plan can never be rushed.

  I place my hand on Skylah’s clasped ones. “Would you like a drink?” I ask.

  “Y-Y-Yes, please,” she stammers.

  I stand up and walk over to the water cooler and pour us both a glass, walking back over and placing hers in front of her. She snatches it up off the table immediately and pretty much inhales it.

  “So, Skylah. Tell me your story. Why are you here?”

  “Well.” She returns to her nervous quirk, looking at everything but me. “I don’t know about this. I just… A friend of mine told me about what you do and suggested I come and see you, said that you could help me.”

  “It’s okay. Why don’t we do this? You tell me what happened, and I’ll let you know what I can do for you. You can then decide from there.” I try to comfort her.

  She nods. “Right. So have you heard of Dean Lukas?” Skylah asks. I shake my head. The name doesn’t sound familiar to me at all. “He’s the owner of Lukas Marketing and PR.” Ah, marketing and PR, that’s why I haven’t heard of him. Not really the circles I run in. “Well, I used to work for him. You never think you’re going to ever meet Dean. He practically lives on the top floor in his office, and the only people he associates with are the team leaders. Well, I happened to bump into him out one night at a club. I didn’t think he even knew who the hell I was, but he came up to me and started to talk to me. We hit it off instantly and slept together. In hindsight, that was the first warning sign, and probably the moment I should have run away. We started seeing each other, and it didn’t take long for us to officially become a couple. It was amazing, and he was amazing at first, but then he changed. His attitude was not the same, but I loved him at that point, so I didn’t care. I loved and wanted to be with him. Plus, he’s the hottest guy that has ever taken an interest in me.

  “Things started getting better, and I believed that we were all good. Then I became pregnant, and I thought that because we were in a good place, he would be excited. Well, he wasn’t.” Her head falls, and I don’t need to see her face to know the expression it holds. The sadness of a memory full of pain. “He dumped me. Told me that he wanted nothing to do with me. I was mortified and upset!”

  I offer her a tissue, and she takes it, blowing her nose and discarding it into the strategically placed trash can next to her. It’s a common thing that a lot of women do. They cry, the memories are usually quite upsetting, so reliving them can dredge up some raw emotions.

  “He left you a single mother,” I state.

  She lifts her head with watery eyes, and I know in an instant what happened. I stop myself from picking something up and throwing it against the wall. It would be uncouth and incredibly unprofessional. It’s not my job to become the emotional wreck; it’s my job to help these women move on with their lives.

  “I’m truly sorry for your loss,” I console her.

  “Thank you. It’s been a hard road, and even now, it’s still a sensitive topic.”

  “A loss like that is not something you’ll ever get over. It stays with you forever.”

  “You talk from experience.” She sniffles.

  I don’t respond, because again, this isn’t about me, it’s about her. She doesn’t need to know that the last asshole I was
with dumped me as soon as I had miscarried. She doesn’t need to know how I was left alone to grieve. I had my sister and best friend, Kerri, but there is only so much people who have no idea the situation you are going through can do to help. I also wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind to see my sister, Violet, happy with her husband and baby son, Toby. The death of a child paints a scar on your heart. It’s forever present, even if you’ve moved on, and been able to live with it. It’s always there. The scar left after the death of a baby you gave birth to. Well, that kind of shit burns you.

  It took ages for me to be able to get myself out of the hole he had dug for me, and once I was able to crawl out, I was out for vengeance. There’s a reason the saying “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” exists. And if the biggest and most important lesson I can give a man is to never fuck with a woman, then I know I’m doing something worthwhile.

  “So, what are you going to do?” she asks.

  “It depends on exactly what it is that you’re looking for.”

  “I just want him to know the hurt he caused me. I want his heart ripped from his chest, just like mine was.”

  “In that case, I can do just that. Make him fall for me, and then as soon as he’s hooked, make my move and make him wish that he was never born.” I smile a little too eagerly at the thought of it all. I get a real kick out of emotionally torturing the crap out of men for my own sick pleasure.

  “You are one sick and twisted bitch, you know that?” Kerri once said to me.

  “Maybe, but no woman out there wakes up one day wanting to be a raging bitch. Twisted bitches are created, not born.”

  “So what do you need from me?” she asks.

  I open my desk drawer and remove the standard contract I have stored and hand it over to Skylah. “This is a standard form that outlines my services, the importance of anonymity. My general process, payment, and an NDS—”

  “NDS?” she asks.

  “Nondisclosure statement. I need to ensure your secrecy while I complete my job. In no way will you discuss what I provide for you to anybody. You can refer me to friends and family who you believe need help, but that’s it. If they ask what I did for you, you will simply advise them to come speak to me. My highest priority is ensuring that I’m safe.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “If people found out what I do for a living, then I would have a lot of pissed off people wanting my head. I can’t risk that happening. I will not have my business jeopardized because of a client. This contract needs to be built on trust.” She gives me a quizzical look. “Contrary to the kind of business I run, I’m not out there to fuck over innocent men. I’m a cruel bitch, but I’m not the devil. If I feel as if you are deceiving me in any way, I’m tearing up the contract, and we will never see each other again. Understood?” I ask a little too forcefully. There’s an audible gulp. Her head moves up and down rapidly. I smile to put her at ease. I stand up. “I’ll give you some time to read over everything. I’ll just be outside. Come get me when you’re done.”

  I stand up and walk out, closing the door to my office quietly and sit down next to Kerri.

  “Got a juicy one?” she asks.

  Kerri and I have been friends since we were in high school. We know everything there is to know about each other, and then some. We’re kind of like kindred spirits. She’s the only person in my life that knows about what I do. My sister thinks I own an interior design business, which is what I was going to go into before my entire life was obliterated. Kerri too, has gone through her own suffering. She was actually the one that urged me to start up this business. Two women who had been brought down by various men in their lives. The male gender really had no idea what they were thinking when they messed with us.

  “Cameron.” It was all I needed to say for her to understand.

  “Are you going to be okay?” she asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Emotionally. I can take on the job if you want.”

  “No, that’s okay. I can handle it. In fact, this is going to be cathartic for me. The job before was nowhere near as satisfying.”

  Her eyes grow wide. “What do you mean? You drove the guy to bankruptcy. What could be more satisfying than that?” she asks on a laugh.

  “Well, instead of somebody else getting the satisfaction, I can get it this time. This job will be my real closure. You’ll also love this one.”

  “How so?”

  “He’s a suit.” A grin forms devilishly on her lips.

  “Ooh, yeah, baby!”

  I giggle. “I knew you would like it.”

  “I hope she signs the contract; it would be so good to have both of us get closure.”

  “Um, Kathryn?” We both lift our heads at Skylah’s meek voice.

  Kathryn—not my real name. Fake name. Like I said, I have to keep my anonymity.

  “Yes, Skylah? Are you finished?”

  “Yes.”

  I get up and walk back into my office and sit down, taking the contract and looking through it to make sure that everything has been signed.

  “Excellent. Before we continue further, full payment is required.” I pull out my hand-held credit card machine and place it in front of her. Skylah reaches into her purse and takes out her card, swiping it and entering her pin. Once it passes, I print her a copy of her receipt.

  “Okay, excellent. Thank you for your trust in me and for your business, Skylah. There’s nothing more I’ll need from you. The next couple of days will involve me doing some research on Dean. What does he do, where does he go, really get into the type of person that he is so that I can become the type of woman that he likes. I will keep you regularly updated, so there will be full disclosure of my progress. If you ever have any questions, please feel free to call here—”

  “Not you?” she asks.

  “You don’t have my phone number, and I don’t carry around my work phone with me on jobs. It stays here, for my safety and the security of the job. Don’t worry, Kerri will know everything I do, so there will be no issue discussing anything with her.”

  “Oh, okay, then. Makes sense,” she agrees. She stands up. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  I shake her hand and lead her out to the elevator, turning around and facing Kerri. Clapping my hands together and rubbing them in delight.

  I enjoy every part of my job. It’s way too satisfying to be good for me, and I feel like I’m doing a service to the people of New York. My favorite part, though—and yes, this is going to make me sound like a geek—is the planning. I love going deep into the research and figuring out the kind of person I’m dealing with and the kind of woman I need to mold myself to become. Now, every job I take on is different. Some women simply want their ex to be dumped. Others want the real embarrassment factor. You know, the get them into bed, tie them up and then urge them to do shit they wouldn’t necessarily do or admit to doing, like being fucked by a dildo. Others have been screwed over by a man that already has a wife and a girlfriend and is looking to emasculate them. That’s when I waltz in, take them back to a hotel, tie them up and take multiple photos with a Polaroid and rob them of their dignity and clothes while I make my way to the unsuspecting wife and girlfriend and inform them of each other as well as the cheating bastard of a man they are with—justice for all.

  This job is going to be the best one yet, even though I know nothing about Dean Lukas and what he does, I know what he stands for as a human being. One thing I’ve discovered with suits is that they are arrogance personified. They’re the narcissistic sociopaths that run the world. They get off on throwing their wealth around in people’s faces. An act of power and virility. It’s rather disgusting and one I take pleasure in manipulating. To say that I’ve brought a few men to their knees in a weak pool of snot and tears is on another level, but this man is going to be the cherry on the cake. I’ve been waiting for that one man to give me the pleasure I’ve been searching for. The one that could give me what I’ve so longed for ever since
Cameron.

  I flop down into the chair next to Kerri and she fires up the Internet.

  “Okay, Douchebag Dean, what do you have for us.” Kerri rubs her hands together before typing his name into the search bar.

  I’m surprised I’ve never heard of this man before because it seems as if he owns the most prolific marketing and public relations company in the United States. His résumé is impressive. Coming from a poor home growing up, he received his degree at New York University while he worked and helped provide for his mother who was struggling. He struggled throughout his education, which seemed to end when he ran into a bit of luck. Right before he graduated, he was offered a coveted internship position at CK Marketing. He worked his way up before making it to Senior Social Media Marketer. He excelled at that position before he realized that he wanted to start his own business, and at the age of twenty-eight, he started Lukas Marketing & PR. The rest is history. All the articles pin him as the male Cinderella of the twenty-first century.

  Being incredibly business savvy, he has managed to build a highly successful company, becoming the youngest multi-billionaire at the age of thirty-seven, with two offices in the United States, one in Canada, London, and Sydney. He’s also known to be extremely private and highly unattainable. Known as a player, he has never settled down with anybody in his years as CEO. Countless photos of a man dripping with affluence holding the hands of various models, even some I recognize. I can see why he is the titleholder of New York’s Sexiest Bachelor five years running. With wavy hair that falls a little over his deep pools of blue equating to a clear summer day, chiseled features, and a body that would put every other guy on this planet to shame, I understand immediately how he could lure poor unsuspecting women into his web. There’s an arrogance in every smirk he expertly and ingeniously shoots at the cameras. Everything about his stance and expression is calculating. It’s a way to draw you in, creating a haze in your mind that you don’t even realize is there before it’s too late.