WHITLOW CREEK

Name: WHITLOW CREEK
Availability: InStock
Author: OHARA DAWN COLLEEN

OHARA DAWN COLLEEN

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Second Chance Revenge Billionaire CEO Fall In Love At First Sight

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Introduction

Emma Harper’s life had always been predictable—a small-town rhythm of coffee at sunrise, teaching at the local art center, and visiting her late parents’ graves on Sundays. But everything changes the night she encounters Miller Henderson, the enigmatic CEO of Henderson Global Industries—a man whose charm is as lethal as his secrets. Miller appears in her quiet town claiming to be there on business, yet his sudden interest in Emma is anything but coincidence. Beneath his polished composure lies a man bound to a shadowy past—one that entwines fatefully with Emma’s own tragedy. Haunted by flashes of the accident that took her parents fifteen years ago, Emma begins to suspect that the explosion that killed them wasn’t random at all. When she discovers a strange insignia carved into a box her father left behind—a symbol identical to one engraved on a ring Miller wears—her carefully built world begins to unravel. Miller confesses that her parents once worked for his late father, a powerful industrial magnate who secretly funded illegal bioweapon research before his mysterious death. Now, remnants of that operation are resurfacing—and Emma, unknowingly, holds the last key to destroying it or unleashing it. As Emma’s curiosity pulls her deeper into Miller’s orbit, so does her attraction to him. Their chemistry is combustible, blurring the lines between trust and danger. But Miller is torn—he’s under surveillance from his company’s board and hunted by a criminal syndicate led by Damien Kruger, a ruthless crime boss who has spent years trying to reclaim stolen research data. Kruger believes Emma’s father betrayed him, and that Emma might be the one person alive who knows where the encrypted drive is hidden. When Emma’s apartment is ransacked and her closest friend, Maya Torres, is abducted, she realizes her family’s secrets are far more treacherous than she imagined. Forced to run, Emma and Miller flee across state lines, shadowed by Kruger’s men and by Miller’s own security chief, Marcus Vane—a man whose loyalty wavers between friendship and greed. As they uncover encrypted letters, offshore accounts, and covert lab files, a shocking revelation surfaces: Miller’s father ordered the hit on Emma’s parents to erase evidence of his crimes. Wracked with guilt and desperate to protect her, Miller vows to expose his father’s legacy and end the syndicate that still bears his name. But to do that, he’ll need Emma’s help to unlock her father’s final cipher—a sequence that could either destroy Kruger’s empire or ignite global chaos. Meanwhile, Emma’s ex-boyfriend, Detective Ryan Cole, reenters her life, determined to save her from Miller, whom he suspects of manipulating her. His investigation uncovers a hidden alliance between Kruger and a corrupt senator—Eleanor Chase—who plans to use the bioweapon technology to consolidate political power. Ryan’s pursuit of truth puts him on a collision course with Miller, while Emma finds herself caught between two men: one who represents the safety she once knew, and one who embodies the danger she can’t resist. As the net tightens, betrayals strike from every side. Maya escapes captivity only to reveal that she was working undercover for Interpol, tracking the syndicate all along. Marcus Vane turns traitor, selling Miller out to Kruger for a price, while Eleanor Chase stages a coup within Henderson Global, framing Miller for espionage. In a desperate move, Miller and Emma flee to the ruins of her family’s old vineyard—where her father once hid the final piece of data that could expose everyone. There, under flickering candlelight and storm-heavy skies, truths are bared: Miller admits his father was behind the crash that killed Emma’s parents, but he also reveals that her mother survived long enough to pass on the encryption key—a code embedded in Emma’s childhood sketches. Shocked, betrayed, yet fiercely determined, Emma deciphers the final pattern and discovers a vault containing her father’s recorded confession. But before she can release it, Kruger arrives, armed and merciless, revealing he intends to use the data to blackmail global leaders. In the ensuing chaos, loyalties shift again—Marcus sacrifices himself to save Emma, Ryan arrives with backup, and Miller takes a bullet meant for her. With Kruger cornered, Emma detonates the vault, destroying the data forever but ending his operation. The explosion exposes the truth about Henderson Global’s corruption, collapsing the empire Miller inherited. Months later, the world believes Miller Henderson is dead. But Emma, now living under a new identity, receives a coded message only he could have written—a sign that he survived. The message comes with a single line: “The truth never dies, Emma. Neither does love.” She knows then that their story isn’t over. Somewhere between guilt and redemption, passion and peril, two broken souls remain bound by a secret that changed everything—and by a love powerful enough to rewrite their fates

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Chapter 1

Perfecting the art of making coffee is one thing, but mastering the art of using the spaceship-like machines in front of me to create the perfect cup is a whole other challenge. While my colleague, Lily, effortlessly completes the task while multitasking, I've been struggling for days. Despite my best efforts, I can't seem to avoid making a mess with both the coffee and the area around the machine.

With a muttered curse, I manage to force the filter into place, only to have it slip and spill coffee grounds everywhere. Frustrated, I reach for the cloth in my apron pocket, which is now brown from the countless times I've used it to clean up my previous mistakes.

‘You want me to take over?’ Lily’s amused voice creeps over my shoulders and makes them sag. It’s no use. No matter how many times I try, I always end up in the same pickle. This spaceship and I are not friends.

I sigh dramatically and turn, handing Lily the big metal handle thingy. ‘I’m sorry. The machine hates me.’

Her bright-pink lips break out in a fond smile, and her black shiny bob swishes as she shakes her head. Her patience is commendable. ‘It’ll come. Why don’t you go and clear table seven?’

I move fast, grabbing a tray and making my way over to the recently vacated area in the hope of redeeming myself. ‘He’ll sack me,’ I muse, loading the tray. I’ve only been working here for four days, but on hiring me, Gabi said it would only take me a few hours of training on my first day to get the hang of the machine that dominates the back counter of the bistro. That day was hideous, and I think Gabi shares my thoughts.

‘No he won’t.’ Lily fires the machine up, and the sound of steam rushing from the froth pipe fills the bistro. ‘He likes you!’ she calls louder, grabbing a mug, then a tray, then a spoon, a napkin and the chocolate sprinkles, all while rotating the metal jug of milk with ease.

I smile down at the table as I wipe it before collecting the tray and making my way back to the kitchen. Gabi’s only known me for a week, and he’s already said that I haven’t a bad bone in my body. My grandmother has said the very same thing but added that I’d better grow some soon because the world and the people in it are not always nice or gentle.

I dump the tray on the side and start loading up the dishwasher.

‘You okay, Emma?’

I turn toward the gruff voice of Paul, the cook. ‘Great. You?’

‘Top of the world.’ He continues cleaning out the pots, whistling as he does.

Resuming stacking plates in the dishwasher, I think to myself that I should be just fine as long as I’m not let loose on that machine. ‘Is there anything else you’d like me to do before I get off?’ I ask Lily as she pushes her way through the swing door of the kitchen. I envy the way she carries out all tasks with such ease and speed, from dealing with that damn machine to stacking mugs on top of each other without looking.

‘No.’ She turns and wipes her hands on the front of her apron. ‘You get off. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Thank you.’ I remove my apron and hang it up. ‘Bye, Paul.’

‘Have a good evening, Emma,’ he calls, waving a ladle above his head.

After weaving my way through the tables of the bistro, I push my way out the door and onto the narrow back street, getting immediately pelted by rain. ‘Wonderful,’ I smile, shielding my head with my denim Patet and making a run for it.

I hop between the puddles, my Converse doing nothing to keep my feet dry, squelching with each hurried stride as I make my way to the bus stop.

Taking the steps up to our house, I barge through the door and rest my back against it, catching my breath.

‘Emma?’ Nan’s husky voice instantly lightens my wet mood. ‘Emma, is that you?’

‘It’s me!’ I hang my soaked Patet on the coat hook and kick off my sodden Converse before making my way down the long hallway to the back kitchen. I find Nan stooped over the cooker, stirring a huge pot of something – soup, undoubtedly.

‘There you are!’ She drops the wooden spoon and wobbles towards me. At eighty-one, she is really quite remarkable and still so on the ball. ‘You’re drenched!’

‘I’m not so bad,’ I assure her, ruffling my hair as she assesses me from top to bottom, settling on my flat stomach as my T-shirt rides up.

‘You need fattening up.’

I roll my eyes but humour her. ‘I’m starving.’

The smile that graces her wrinkled face makes me smile, too, as she embraces me and rubs my back.

‘What have you done today, Nan?’ I ask.

She releases me and points to the dinner table. ‘Sit.’

I do as I’m told immediately, picking up the spoon she’s set down for me. ‘So?’

She turns a frown on me. ‘So what?’

‘Today. What did you do?’ I prompt.

‘Oh!’ She flaps a tea towel at me. ‘Nothing exciting. A bit of shopping, and I baked your favourite carrot cake.’ She points across to the other worktop, where a cake is sitting on a cooling rack. But it isn’t carrot cake.

‘You made me carrot cake?’ I ask, watching as she returns to serving up two bowls of soup.

‘Yes. Like I said, Emma. I made your favourite.’

‘But my favourite’s lemon cake, Nan. You know that.’

She doesn’t falter in her serving, bringing the two bowls to the table and setting them down. ‘Yes, I do. That is why I made you lemon cake.’

I flick a glance across the kitchen again, just to check I’m not mistaken. ‘Nan, that looks like pineapple upside-down cake.’

Her rump hits the chair, and she looks at me like I’m the one losing my mind. ‘That’s because it is pineapple upside-down cake.’ She plunges her spoon into the bowl and slurps off some coriander soup before reaching for some freshly baked bread. ‘I made your favourite.’

She’s confused, and so am I. After that last few seconds’ exchange, I have no clue what sort of cake she’s made, and I don’t care. I look across at my dear grandmother, studying her feeding herself. She seems okay and doesn’t look confused. Is this the beginning? I lean forward. ‘Nan, are you feeling okay?’ I’m worried.

She starts laughing. ‘I’m pulling your leg, Emma!’

‘Nan!’ I scorn her, feeling immediately better. ‘You shouldn’t do that.’

‘I’m not losing my marbles yet.’ She waves her spoon at my bowl. ‘Eat your supper and tell me how you got on today.’

My shoulders sag dramatically on a sigh as I stir my soup. ‘I can’t get on with that coffee machine, which is a problem when ninety per cent of customers order some kind of coffee.’

‘You’ll get to grips with it,’ she says confidently, like she’s an expert on the damn thing.

‘I’m not so sure. Gabi won’t keep me just for clearing tables.’

‘Well, apart from the coffee machine, are you enjoying it?’

I smile. ‘Yes, I really am.’

‘Good. You can’t look after me for ever. A young thing like you should be out enjoying herself, not tending to her grandmother.’ She eyes me cautiously. ‘And I don’t need tending to, anyway.’

‘I like looking after you,’ I argue quietly, bracing myself for the usual lecture. We could argue about this until we’re blue in the face and still be in disagreement. She’s fragile, not physically but mentally, no matter how much she insists she’s okay. She draws breath. I fear the worst. ‘Emma, I will not be leaving God’s green pastures until I see you pull things together, and that’s not going to happen if you spend all your time henpecking me. I’m running out of time, so get your skinny little arse in gear.’