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Broken Dreams #1 / Slow Burn - Age Gap - Billionaire - BDSM

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A slow burn romance with an age gap between a billionaire Dominant and a young submissive. FIRST BOOK IN THE BRAVE TRILOGY. ATTENTION READERS! A VERY NICE GIRL CONTACTED ME AND ASKED ME TO LEAVE THE LARGER CHAPTERS. SHE EXPLAINED TO ME THAT AS YOU PROGRESS IN READING, THE CHAPTERS COST MORE AND MORE COINS. AND IT IS GETTING VERY EXPENSIVE! THEREFORE, I AM JOINING TWO CHAPTERS INTO ONE. INSTEAD OF HAVING TWO UPDATE CHAPTERS WITH MORE OR LESS 1500 WORDS EACH, YOU WILL HAVE A CHAPTER OF 3000 THOUSAND WORDS. WELL, I HOPE IN THIS WAY I WILL BE COLLABORATING TO PROGRESS IN YOUR READING. SORRY IF THIS MAYBE A LITTLE CONFUSION. ANY DOUBT ABOUT WHERE TO FIND THE CHAPTER WHERE YOU STOPPED READING, LEAVE A COMMENT AND I WILL ANSWER PROMPTLY. SEE YOU LATER. SYNOPSIS: Maya Valentine is a young university student full of dreams. Her plans are: graduate from college, become a great doctor and find the perfect man with whom to share her glories and defeats. But life lays out plans for her that are very different from those laid out on a sheet of paper. Amid so many ups and downs, tears and pain, Maya will have crucial choices to make not only for herself, but also for her family. Choices that many don't believe are right. At the feet of a mature man, she will encounter many challenges and will have to learn to live in a way she never imagined, submitting to the whims of an experienced Dominator in exchange for the help she needs.

Chapter 1


Life is not made of easy choices. Sometimes, there are moments when we reach crucial points where we have to decide between upholding our values imposed by a hypocritical society or taking risks for those we love.

The difficult part is when we discover that these will be the first to leave us behind, without making the slightest effort to understand why we made our choices.

To be judged and abandoned to your fate by those who swore to love and protect you from the beginning of your life is the worst pain and contempt someone can feel.

Something I learned from this, in a hard way, is that it doesn't matter how good you have been to these people. In the end, they will be the ones to throw stones at you.


At eighteen, I was accepted to the University of Houston, in Texas, through a full scholarship. Having a future doctor in the family was a great source of pride for everyone, especially my father, Teddy. He pinned my acceptance letter to the refrigerator door for months, showing it off to anyone who came to our house.

Every morning, when he entered the kitchen for breakfast, he would look at it and smile as if it were a signed check with many zeros on the right. I remember that on the day I received the long-awaited letter, he spent hours on the phone telling everyone he knew that his little girl was going to college.

He had always been a simple man, but with big dreams. The greatest of these was that his only daughter could be someone in life with a diploma in her hand. The second dream, he fulfilled six years ago when he finally took his project off the paper and opened his own antique car restoration shop.

But sometimes, joy has an expiration date. His business had not been doing well in recent months. Debts and more debts accumulated since we discovered that my mother, Meredith, was ill. She was the best mother, wife, daughter, and friend anyone could have the pleasure of knowing.

He split his time between work and the hospital, but it was complicated to do so with little help and with me being so far from home nine months out of the year. Even so, he said he didn’t get tired or mind making sacrifices for her; after all, they had vowed to love each other until death do them part, but I knew how hard it was for him.

As a child, I always admired the affection they had for each other. Despite the difficulties they faced together, their love was still unique and beautiful. I always thought that one day I would have with someone what they had as a couple and as a family, but that’s not how it started for me.

My love life began with Mark: my first boyfriend, passion, and first sexual experience. I thought virginity was something beautiful and delicate that should be given to someone who proved to love you, or at least to someone you believed loved you.

We met at the university’s welcome party during the first week of classes. He smiled at me with those perfect white teeth, and I smiled back, of course! Who wouldn’t respond to such a seductive smile?

An hour later, I was lying in an unknown bed beneath him. When things heated up, I had to tell him that I was a virgin and wasn’t ready to have s*x, especially not at a party and in a random person’s bed. He said he thought it was beautiful and promised he would earn it. I smiled foolishly, innocently, and almost in love.

Mark filled my ears with things any silly girl would love to hear: “This is amazing!”, “You’re wonderful!”, “You respect yourself!”, “Women like you are special,” and I believed him.

A month passed since that party, and I had a handsome boyfriend who prepared the perfect night for me to give him what we both wanted. My first night happened, and it was all romantic and perfect. Mark took us away for a weekend in a cabin in the mountains. We had a candlelit dinner, hot baths in the hot tub, and enjoyable s*x for three days, most of the time.

When we reached nine months of dating, we were happy and fulfilled; I thought I had found the right person for my life, with whom I would marry after graduation.

It was at the same party where I crossed paths with him that I met Penny: the girl who became my newest best friend and confidant. She approached me, complimenting my dress, and I complimented her shoes. We talked, drank some beers, and she introduced me to some people. Penny was the kind of friend who got into trouble for you and who, when she did something stupid, didn’t hesitate to tell me. She completed my happiness away from home.

But the magical pink bubble of happiness I lived in for nine months burst when my father left a three-minute message in the voicemail that changed my world. It was the sad news that my mother had breast cancer, stage two. That same day, I returned home a week earlier than planned, prepared to face the diagnosis with my parents.

I was by her side during her recovery from a total mastectomy and all the radiation and chemotherapy sessions that took place during my summer vacation. My father had a great health insurance plan that provided her with quick treatment and maximum comfort. I knew it wouldn’t be cheap and was beyond our means, but we couldn’t spare any effort for my mother.

Chapter 2


When the vacation ended, I returned to university at the beginning of September with the good news that she was finally on the path to recovery.

With my father in debt, he could no longer help me stay in college. I made some efforts and gave up some of my class schedules to work at night. It was hard to get used to the new routine, but everything was going well.

In the mornings, I attended classes. In the afternoon, I studied in the campus library with my study group; and at night, I worked as a waitress at Roger’s, a local bar near the university. The pay wasn’t bad, but the hours were tiring. However, the tips made up for it, especially on show nights.

Nine months later, before I even realized it, the holidays were approaching again. The tight routine only got worse. College classes became increasingly difficult and took up more of the time I didn’t have. At work, I started working even on holidays to avoid needing help from my parents as much a


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