"You’re my wife," he insisted, his words tinged with a sense of ownership that made me shudder. “You signed the contract, remember? It’s binding.” I tried to protest, but every denial was met with the same adamant response: “You’re my wife now." *** After a wild graduation party, Brielle's intoxicated state leads her into trouble and she is rescued by a mysterious man. In her inebriated state, the man confuses her by that she is his fiancée. The next morning, Brielle awakens to the shocking revelation that she is about to get married to the same man who rescued her, billionaire CEO, Andrei Carter, whose life has been tainted and scarred by a tragic past. Out of empathy for his situation, Brielle agrees to marry Andrei and soon discovers a love and devotion that she never imagined possible.
View MoreBrielle's POV Edna pads softly over to Andrei, her hands extended in a soothing gesture, ready to relieve him of Alexis's sleepy weight. With the little boy snug in her arms, she glides up the stairs, softly whispering promises of bedtime stories and cozy blankets. It's a nightly ritual, but one that never gets old. Andrei’s head snaps up, his eyes locking onto mine. The jolt that shoots through me is unexpected, like an electric current passing between us. But his gaze holds no warmth, no recognition. His lips part, the beginnings of a smile starting to play at the corners of his mouth. But then, his expression falters, as if he’s wrestling with something within himself. He glances at the clock, then back at me. “A little late for bed, isn't it?” “I was waiting,” I whisper, the words a promise, a vow. “Waiting for you, forever if I had to.” He frowns, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You're not even changed yet. You should get to bed.” I glance at him, the irony of the situa
Brielle's POV Why so bright? I squint, shielding my eyes from the golden glare spilling through the curtains. It's not just the light that catches my attention – I feel Andrei's strong arms wrapped snugly around me, holding me close. I turn to face him, and oh man, he's so peaceful. His mouth’s slightly open, and he’s making these adorable little snuffly noises. His dark eyelashes fan out against his cheeks, and his hair is mussed. A tiny crease furrows his brow, as if he's concentrating on something even in his sleep.I've got a goofy grin plastered on my face, and I just can't seem to shake it. But then, I hear him mutter the name 'Odessa' in his sleep.Suddenly my grin doesn't feel goofy anymore... I watch, transfixed, as Andrei's face contorts in distress. His eyebrows furrow, his lips curl downward, and his eyes twitch beneath his eyelids. I gently nudge him. His eyes flutter open.He's awake, but he's not really here. His eyes are distant, like he's staring into a void. The
Brielle's POV Trapped between a rock and a hard place, with “rock” being Andrei’s iron jaw and “hard place” being Jeremy’s furrowed brow, I’m contemplating if there’s an ejector seat in this room that I can launch myself through. “Andrei's still in the picture? I thought you'd moved on, Brielle." Jeremy asks. “She’s here because I brought her here,” Andrei answers. “And whatever we have going on is none of your business. Brielle. Here. Now." He doesn’t raise his voice, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes me feel like I have no choice but to comply. “That ring doesn't belong on you. Take it off." “You’re serious?” I ask, my voice barely whisper. Andrei’s expression is as serious as a funeral march. “Dead serious.” His words are clipped, razor sharp. “Take it off, Brielle.” His hand is outstretched, waiting. I hesitate for a moment before sliding the ring off my finger and placing it in his palm. Andrei grabs the ring and forces it onto Jeremy's h
Andrei's POV Paul's 'I tried my best' crap doesn't cut it. Best? Best isn't good enough. He should've done whatever it took to keep Ivy from leaving the country.I don’t bother hiding the annoyance in my voice as I bark orders at him. “You’re going to New York. You’re going to keep an eye on Ivy. Make sure she stays out of trouble." For now, it's time to shut down this operation. I won't risk Brielle's life. The danger I've already put her in makes me sick. My focus is solely on the monitors as I watch her every move. I'm holding my breath, waiting to see what happens next. But in a split second, everything goes dark. The screens flicker and die, and the equipment falls silent. No way. No freaking way. What just happened? I'm out of there in a flash, grabbing my coat and making a beeline for the door. It's when I see Odessa. She's just standing in the hallway, looking all calm and collected. She looks like she's waiting for someone, but her eyes lock onto mine, and I know she's
Ivy's POV “I'm telling you, I'm not some kind of international cat-napper,” I insist, my voice tight with frustration. “I'm just trying to get to New York.” “I'm afraid that's not my call to make, ma'am,” he replies, the coldness in his voice making the hairs on my arms stand on end. “You'll need to come with me to the security office for further questioning.” Further questioning? This is getting out of hand. Just shy of hysteria, I’m stopped dead in my tracks by a smooth, authoritative voice: “No more delays. She’s with me." My head whips around, my eyes wild with confusion and desperation, only to meet the steely gaze of a man who commands the air around him with nothing more than a well-tailored suit and the tone of his voice, “She's under my protection. That's all you need to know." The security officer looks dubious, the skepticism palpable in his furrowed brow. “Sir, I'm going to need a little more information than that.” But the man's expression doesn't so much as flick
Ivy's POVOh, man, where to start? The airport is like the land of stressed out zombies, everyone just aimlessly shuffling along, trying not to look like they want to rip someone's head off. The fluorescent lights are burning my retinas, and the noise is just…ugh. It's like being inside a blender filled with car horns and crying babies.I've been waiting forever, it feels like an eternity since I arrived at the gate. I've been checking and double-checking my carry-on luggage, making sure it's perfect — like it's about to go on stage for a Broadway show or something. I glance down at my phone, which is blowing up with notifications. There are work emails, of course — a never-ending stream of messages. I silence them, one by one, trying to tune out the stress and anxiety that comes with them.Next, I tackle the spam texts — annoying messages from unknown numbers, trying to sell me everything from weight loss supplements to discount vacations.Finally, I make my way to Instagram, where
Andrei's POV. Striding through the marble-lined corridors of my headquarters, I navigate my way toward the Control Room, a high-tech nerve center situated on the upper floor of the Carter Estate. I'm on the phone with Helen, trying to talk some sense into her. She's being stubborn, as usual, and I'm having to work overtime to keep my cool. “No, you can't come over to the estate. Not yet,” I tell Helen firmly, trying to stall her. "Just… just give me a little more time We're on the precipice of something crucial here. I need more time to ensure everything is in place before your arrival. I'm handling things, just as I've always done. “Think of your son, Andrei. He needs you right now.” It's a painful truth I often overlook: being a father. My son needs me, but life's demands have taken over. The thought of not being there for him fills me with regret, anger, and a deep sadness that's suffocating me. “Alexis stays out of this, Helen,” I assert. “The situation is far too volatile
Brielle's POV. “Sweet mother of chaos, Ivy. You’re like a moth drawn to the flame, begging to get scorched. And I’m here, trying to wave you away like a lunatic waving a fan at a forest fire.” What the hell do I have to do? Sing a lullaby about how dangerous Valtor is? This is ridiculous. I shouldn't have to babysit Ivy like this. But I can’t just let her walk into this mess with Valtor. She’s gonna get herself killed. I'm stuck pacing my room, trying to make sense of Ivy's latest crisis. But then, I glance out the window- Andrei's car is parked in the driveway. Without thinking, I'm hurtling downstairs, my feet pounding out a staccato rhythm on the steps. The wooden banister glides beneath my hand as I round the landing. Fingers crossed Mom's snoring peacefully, completely clueless about Andrei's midnight rendezvous. And Jeremy? Let's just say I'm counting on his exceptional talent for being clueless. Or we’re pretty much screwed, aren’t we? One slip-up, one misstep, and it’s
Brielle's POV Andrei's taillights fade into the night, leaving me wondering what just happened. I take a deep breath, pushing open the front door to find Mom on the phone, gushing to Ivy about my homecoming. The music is playing, the champagne is flowing, and I'm stuck here, pretending to be happy about my engagement. Andrei's 'support' only adds to the farce. Jeremy's eyes burn with an inner fire as he asks for my hand. But instead of romance, I'm hit with a wave of dread. Those gray eyes are freakishly familiar — they're reminding me of the psycho who held me captive. For a second, I could swear it's my captor's eyes staring back at me. *** The party's over, and I'm left alone with my thoughts. Ivy's arrival is a welcome distraction, but my mind remains fixated on the ring and the unsettling sense of déjà vu that's been plaguing me since Jeremy proposed. “The prodigal daughter returns! I was starting to think you'd forgotten about everyone else, what with your busy s
Brielle “You’re my wife,” he insisted, his words tinged with a sense of ownership that made me shudder. “You signed the contract, remember? It’s binding.” I tried to protest, but every denial was met with the same adamant response: “You’re my wife now.”***Three Months Earlier…I groaned, struggling to wake up as my mom called my name for the tenth time, shouting it like there was no end to her chorus of “Brielle! Brielle!”Christ, Mom. Gimme a break.And before I could even open my eyes, she'd already yanked the covers off my bed, leaving me shivering and cursing in the chilly air. I groaned again, rubbing my eyes to clear the sleep away. “Seriously, Mom? Can’t a girl get some rest on a Saturday morning?”With a resigned sigh, I forced myself out of bed, brushed my teeth, and took a shower. After that, I joined Mom and Dad downstairs for breakfast.As Mom slid a plate of fluffy omelette in front of me, and she pinned me with a maternal gaze. “Hunny, did you write down that list I...
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