Brielle's POV
”Oh my goodness, she's absolutely stunning!” I opened my eyes, and the first thing that struck me was the enormous size of the room bathed in natural light. The Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a breathtaking view of the city. The walls seemed to stretch on forever, adorned with exquisite artwork and sleek mirrors. The bed beneath me was… impossibly soft. “Drey’s picked a beauty this time,” a voice drawled from a distance “He’s got good taste, that one. I just hope she’s not as trigger-happy as the last one.” “Shhh, Edna. We don’t want to wake her. Let her rest. She’ll need all her strength.” “It’s her wedding day, Helen. If she doesn’t wake up in time, she’ll keep Drey and the priest waiting. You know we can’t have that.” Wedding day? Drey? I felt as if I were in some twisted dream, nothing making sense. But the fear coursing through my veins told me that this was all too real. I blinked my eyes wide open, hoping to clear the haze that clouded my mind, and found myself staring into the eager, expectant faces of two middle-aged women at the foot of the bed. One woman was chocolate-brown, the other dark-haired, but both of them had an uncanny similarity. They could have been sisters. “Good morning,” the dark-haired woman said with a beaming smile, looking more like the older of the two women. “It’s your wedding day, my dear! How exciting!” I pushed myself up to a sitting position, my head still spinning. “Who…who am I getting married to? I… I don’t understand.” The women exchanged a look, both of them still smiling, though their grins were beginning to seem a bit forced. “You’re getting married to Andrei, of course!” the dark-haired woman said, as if that should have been obvious “Andrei Carter is your husband-to-be,” the chocolate-brown woman chimed in. “He brought you home last night, intoxicated. We tried our best to look after you. Thank goodness you’re alright now!” She paused, her smile slipping a bit. “You don’t remember?” I shook my head. The women each took one of my hands, their grips firm and insistent. “Come on, honey,” they urged, pulling me out of the bed and towards a fate I’d never asked for. “It’s time to get you ready for your wedding!” I stumbled along, “I’m… I’m not sure I understand anything yet. How could this have happened?” The women exchanged another look, their smiles now strained and tight. “Drey will explain everything,” the dark-haired one said, guiding me towards the bathroom. “But first, you need to get ready.” The speed at which they moved left me feeling dazed and disoriented, but soon I found myself sitting in front of a mirror, staring at my reflection in an exquisite wedding gown. “Let’s get started on your makeup,” the dark-haired woman said, looking at me in the mirror. “Edna, pass me the powder brush, please.” “Right away," Edna replied, promptly handing over the requested item. I was seated in front of the vanity, watching the two women fuss over me. My nerves were fraying as I tried to make sense of the situation. “Who are you, both of you? If I may ask?” I managed, my voice quavering “I’m Edna,” the chocolate-brown woman replied, smiling gently at me in the mirror. I listened as the other woman, Helen, introduced herself. Her hair was dyed jet black, the strands glistening under the vanity lights as if she'd recently applied a glossing treatment to keep them shining. “And I'm Helen, my dear,” she said with a small smile. “We’re Drey’s aunties” they answered in unison, their smiles widening. Helen continued, “We’ve known the little boy since he was five. He was our sister’s son, sadly she passed away, ever since we loved him and raised him like our own.” Helen and Edna seemed genuinely caring, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t how weddings were supposed to happen. Edna leaned forward, “Please, just trust us, my dear. Everything will be explained to you in due time. There's no need to worry.” “Really?” I echoed back, unable to mask the skepticism in my tone. Flanked by Edna and Helen_ their presence doing little to ease my mounting anxiety, I made my way downstairs to the garden where the wedding was to be held. And there, in a wheelchair, sat a man I recognized as the same one who had rescued me from the bar last night. But this time, he wore a mask, a sleek, black, and silver half-face mask that covered the left side of his face, made of a material that resembled lightweight metal alloy, with a silver trim. Confusion and fear flooded through me. What was going on? Why was I marrying a man I didn’t know and why was he hiding his face? Suddenly, I remembered. This was Andrei Carter, the man from Carter Industries who had been involved in a terrible accident. The news had been all over the media. This was the same man who had rescued me last night. “Hello, wife,” he said, his voice resonating through the air as he gave me a crooked smile that didn’t match my anxious state_ "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.”Brielle's POV The wedding was simple—a few documents to sign, the priest to preside, and a lawyer as a witness. Andrey insisted on taking photos, his enthusiasm for capturing the moment clear. And the wedding was over. I was now married to a man I barely knew. Three years, Mr. Carter had said, and I could walk away. It was a strange arrangement, but I couldn’t help feeling a sense of empathy for this mysterious man. His mask, his accident, his desire to protect his image…it all tugged at my heartstrings, and I found myself wanting to help him, despite my own confusion and uncertainty. After the ceremony, Edna served me a plate of cookies, claiming they were “special,” though I didn’t quite understand what she meant. But the cookies were delicious, and I savored each bite, letting the sweetness calm my nerves. As the bedroom door swung open, my head snapped up. I wasn’t expecting anyone to enter, but there stood Andrei, still wearing the mask and still sitting in his wheelchair.
Brielle's POV “You need to take him to the hospital, Ivy. What the hell were you thinking? What if he’s hurt? You can’t just leave him like that!” “I know, I know. But I can’t go to the hospital. They’ll think I did this on purpose. He’s…he’s got connections, Brielle. What if he’s dead? Or seriously hurt? They’re going to want an explanation." I glanced over my shoulder and saw Andrei deep in conversation with another well-dressed man—his lawyer or right-hand man, perhaps. After a moment, the two of them left the room together. Taking a deep breath, I rushed to the wardrobe, searching for something to wear over my simple shirt and jeans. I found a coat and threw it on, quickly checking the room for my shoes. “Ivy, you need to check his heartbeat,” I said, my voice urgent as I spoke into the phone once again. “Is he still breathing?” “I’m so scared, Brielle… I… I can’t even go near him right now. I’m scared I might’ve killed him.” Frustration welled up inside me. “Pull yoursel
Brielle's POV “Now,” Andrei confirmed. “Why the rush to leave so quickly, my dear? We've just begun our journey as husband and wife. Shouldn't we savor this time together?" I swallowed hard, my throat constricting as my anxiety intensified. With a slight shake of my hand, I attempted to grasp the handle of Andrei's wheelchair, but before I could, he swiftly placed his hand over mine, gently guiding it away from the wheelchair. “I’ve got this, Brielle.” He then pressed the controls on the armrest of his wheelchair, and I adjusted my pace to match his. But my mind was still spinning from the chaos Brielle unleashed. Knocking someone out cold with a bottle? Sure, I knew my bestie can be a bit crazy sometimes. But to hit someone with a damn bottle? On top of everything else, we didn’t know if Liam had any ties to Andrei. No. Please, God. Drey is already neck-deep in problems. He's been through a great deal such that I feel empathy for him. And then, out of the blue, Ivy
Brielle's POV With a heady mixture of panic and disbelief coursing through me, I practically bolted from Ivy's bedroom, “For God’s sake! What in the world did you do? What happened here?!” “Stop sounding so hysterical, Brielle. You’re scaring the shit out of me." The absurdity of Ivy’s statement knocked me off-kilter. I whipped around to face her, “Are you fucking serious? We’ve got a guy lying here, dead or dying, with blood all over his face, and you’re telling me to not freak you out? Yeah, let’s just crack open the champagne and party,” I drawled sarcastically. “Because who cares that there might be a dead guy in your bedroom, right? We’re clearly the life of the party here.” All jokes aside, I faced Ivy with a steely gaze, demanding answers. “What the hell happened?' My patience wore thin with every passing second. Ivy was hesitant and right now, time was the one thing we didn’t have. “Spill it, Ivy, or I’m walking,” I warned, leveling a steely gaze in her direction
Brielle's POV Desperation twisted Ivy’s face, her eyes pleading, “Liam’s life is hanging by a thread, Brielle. Every minute we argue is another minute we lose. If you’re scared of seeing Sanjay again because of some ancient history between you two, you need to get over it. Fast." Jeez. I thought I got over him. Why the hell am I so worked up at the thought of seeing Sanjay again? Sanjay's this adorable, Indian guy I used to have a major crush on. I mean, I tried everything—cards, letters—to get his attention. And nothing. I’m still kicking myself for being so stupid. I’d tried so damn hard to get over him, to put those feelings to bed once and for all. What if seeing Sanjay again stirs up those old feelings? What if I start liking him all over again? I’d already tied the knot with someone else, and the last thing I needed was any more complications. In a nervous tic, I began twisting the ring on my finger, a gesture that caught Ivy’s eye. She gave me a questioning look, an
Brielle's POV Entering the grand living room, of the Carter estate, I was greeted by a familiar sight: Andrei, seated in his wheelchair, a slight, almost knowing smile playing across his features, visible even in the soft, subdued lighting that cast a gentle glow across the room. “I'm glad you made it back safely. Ms. Monroe.” My smile was subtle. But then, a sweet, divine scent captured my attention: the roses in Andrei's grasp. Those flowers were a sight to behold—all delicate and fragrant. With a gentle, almost courtly gesture, he presented me with the bouquet. I gratefully accepted them. But a nagging thought gnawed at the back of my mind. It wasn't my birthday, and it was far too early for Valentine’s Day. Curiosity getting the better of me, I inquired, "What’s the occasion?” “Not everything needs to be tied to a specific occasion, When you share your life with someone special, every day is something to be cherished. And that, Ms. Monroe, is what I wanted to do
Brielle's POV It was as if I were being bombarded with all this contract talk from Andrei Carter. He was talking a mile a minute about what it entailed and all that, but I was lost. Still, he kept throwing out questions, asking if I agreed completely, if I was okay with it. How could I possibly say yes or no, when I didn't have a clue what I agreed to? I had made it abundantly clear that I hadn’t signed any marriage contract with him, yet he continued to push the issue. By the time dinner rolled around, I was completely drained. Two days as a married woman, and already I was up to my eyeballs in chaos. I needed sleep like a drowning man needs air. *** I awoke to find Andrei calmly seated in his wheelchair, his distinctive smile greeting me as it always did. As my vision adjusted to the light, I noticed a tray resting on his lap, carrying a warm cup of tea and several freshly baked cookies, whose tantalizing scent wafted through the air. “Edna was just outside with
“Brielle. It's quite a surprise what… What are you doing here?” Sanjay's question mirrors my own thoughts. “I'm interning at Centurion Medical Center under the supervision of Eva Adams. That, that explains why I'm here.” Right. He's working with Dr. Eva, the ice queen herself. That woman had some serious nerve, dismissing me like that. I understand she's a high-profile doctor and all, but a little common courtesy won't kill her. “What about you, Brielle? What brings you to Centurion Medical Center today?” “I, uh…” My eyes darted away. Sanjay's brow creased, concern flashing in his eyes as he looked at me. “Are you sick? Is that why you’re here?” “No, no. Sanjay, I'm not sick. Can we… can we talk outside?” I shot a quick glance at the partitioning curtain, the hushed voices of Eva and Andrei still echoing behind it. We exited the office and entered the hospital's sterile corridor. Sanjay stated, “I've been trying to reach you, Brielle, to inform you that Liam has been
Brielle's POV Final chapter. “Fine,” Jeremy voice cracks with restraint, the single word drawn out in a reluctant admission. I'm low-key freaking out, my heart racing with anticipation. He's just about confessing. “I'm the one who orchestrated the whole thing. I snatched Brielle's parents right from under their noses, ripping them from their picture-perfect lives. i'd kidnapped her, held her captive against her will, and drained your bank accounts. But here's the kicker, Andrei… you're too little, too late. The police are already en route, and they're coming for you, not me.” I take a deep breath, my eyes burning with determination. “No way, Jeremy. I won't let you pin Jamie's murder on Andrei. He's innocent." He narrows his gaze at me, “You know, for a hostage, you're awfully opinionated.” I sneak a peek at Andrei, and his 'I've got this' expression makes me feel like everything's gonna be okay. I mean, Jeremy's still being his usual, awful self, but with Andrei's ca
Brielle's POV “Just trying to appreciate the finer things in life, Andrei. Like that fine-ass butt.” I admit feeling my face heat up. He chuckles, clearly enjoying my unabashed admiration, “that's… Probably the most creative compliment I ever heard and the way yours fills out that robe is criminal, Brielle.” I suppress the urge to turn around. This mutual butt appreciation is getting ridiculous – or ridiculously entertaining. He scans the room, gathering his belongings. Meanwhile, I stand there, a robe-clad without any to change into or not to talk of clothings to put in a box and yesterday's clothes that are so last season — literally. Just when the silence is about to get deafening, Andrei breaks it with a casual suggestion, “you should shower first.” My mind whirs. I’m thinking, Geez, how do I break this news to him without making it super awkward?” The last thing I want is to be standing there, naked, with no clothes to put on, while he just stares at me like I’ve gon
Brielle's POV I'm deliciously spent, my senses sated. Andrei executes a brief, yet vital, wardrobe adjustment, then turns around, patting his back invitingly, “Okay, up you go.” They say “there’s a first time for everything”, and today I’m getting my inaugural piggyback ride—. Courtesy of Andrei. With the grace of a seal gliding onto an iceberg, I slide my bare rear off the table, leaving behind only a warm imprint of my departure. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on tight as he firmly grasps my thighs, lifting me up. With his support, I hop onto his back. “Comfortable?” He asks. “Mhm, perfect.” Our journey begins with a trio of solid thuds, Andrei’s feet hitting the floorboards of the pavilion as he descends. The night air is refreshingly still and quiet… except for the sound of my nervous laughter and Andrei's steady breathing as he navigates the stairs. His usually steady gait falters, his foot catching on some unseen obstacle, and my weight threatens to send him
Brielle's POV He leans in again, His mouth hovering over my breast, “How many white lies have you told?” “One.” He pulls back, “Think again.” I knit my brow trying to focus, to pull my scattered thoughts into some semblance of order. It's a futile effort. I'm still drowning in waves of pure ecstasy. Andrei's lips close around my nipple, and I moan at the sudden sensation. He releases all too soon, again. “Two lies, baby” he purrs. “The first, when you said you never fucked yourself.” His words ignite a thrill that courses through my body, culminating in a sweet ache between my legs. “And the second when you denied ever having fantasies. Now, are you ready to confess them to me… and be rewarded?” His grip on my hand slackens, freeing my fingers to roam. He’s upon me, his mouth latching onto my nipple. Sensation overwhelm my ability to think as His tongue swirls and dances, only to pull back again, letting my nipple pop out of his mouth with a wet plop. I writhe be
Brielle's POV “I'd taken his crap before, no problem. He'd kick my ass, I'd take it. But watch him hurt a three-year-old?” That chuckle, that creepy-ass chuckle, is making my hair stand on end. Andrei's got a lot to say, needs to stop drowning in that drink and talk it out with me. Perhaps if we can get to the root of whatever’s got him so twisted, we can cut it out, get him right again. I screw up my courage, trying to keep my voice from cracking as I ask, “What happened next?” “I lost it. Charged at him and slammed him to the ground. I had him in a tight chokehold, crushing the air out of him. His face turned purple, eyes popping… Killing Archibald wasn't the plan. Just wanted to put the fear of God into him… In a wild twist, he managed to grab a blade and… Carved himself a nasty gash.” Andrei scrapes his thumb along the side of his neck, “This is where he sliced himself. Fucker cried assault. Tried to put me away for attempted murder.” “And Helen?” “Was locked up a
Brielle's POV He gives my earlobe a sneaky little nibble. Damn, if that doesn't stir up something inside me, “Why rush when the journey is half the fun, hmm? We've got lines to run, not lips to lock.” So glad Andrei's here to suck the fun out of… everything. What would I do without him? I'm two seconds away from giving him a good shove, just to knock him off his game. “What?” he asks, that infuriatingly smug smirk still slapped across his face. I purse my lips, cross my arms, “You're really asking 'what'? Like you don't know exactly what you're doing?” Andrei whips out a sheaf of papers from his back pocket, "Shall we begin?” I narrow my eyes, “You expect me to jump right into this after all your little games?” He chuckles, shrugging one shoulder in a charmingly nonchalant gesture. “It's all part of the rehearsal.” “Part of the rehearsal, huh?” I retort, “So that little earlobe nibbling number was in the script? I must have missed that memo.” He laughs," I figure
Brielle's POV My heart stutters, “What?” I try to speak. The words wouldn't come out. Not one single word is showing up to the party. Wearing a sidelong smirk, Andrei jerks his head towards the elevator, “she's been tapping her foot impatiently. Shall we give the poor thing some attention?” Nodding, I swallow my regret. Why didn't I just say something? “I'm intrigued, Brielle. This demure side of you is… unexpected.” He plunders the guest room closet, digging through piles of high-quality linens, designer clothes, and expensive accessories. it's basically a carbon copy of his own — super luxurious. I stand back, curious about what Andrei's searching for. My nerves are still on edge, which is… ridiculous. “Guess, I'll coax them out of you. Every last one.” My curiosity spikes, “How?” “All in good time. Shall we get you into something a bit more… refined?” The robe he hands me is a stunner — bold red, V-neck, and flowing long sleeves, all accented perfectly with
Brielle's POV. Drying soap bubbles speckle Andrei's hands as he meets my eyes, “What's so fascinating?” “It's your charm, Mr. Carter, that's got me in a stare.” His mouth curves into a sly, upward tilt, “You're not so bad yourself. Maybe we can stare at each other for a while and see who cracks first.” Deep down, I'm thinking, 'Seriously, Mr. Carter? Are you not seeing this ensemble?' Perhaps he's just trying to be kind? Yeah, that must be it. After completing the dishes, Andrei takes a moment to dry his hands before wandering over to where I'm sitting, his pace leisurely. I stare at his bare feet, my brain momentarily fixated on the sight. “Why no shoes, Mr. Carter?” “Walking barefoot is like a yoga practice. Builds up the balance, strengthens the soles, and gets you in touch with Mother Earth.” I raise an eyebrow, skeptical. How much of that is actually true, I wonder? He reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me gently into his orbit. And suddenly, my focus shifts from An
Brielle's POV. Andrei’s sweatpants could have fit two of me—and the kitchen sink. He’s a big guy, but these pants were made for a grizzly bear on a beer bender. If I didn’t cinch the drawstrings tight enough, I’d be wading in a sea of fabric, wearing a tent masquerading as sweatpants. I’m halfway through adjusting my shirt when I catch a glimpse of my him in the kitchen. Oh, dear lord. The man might as well be wearing oven mitts for hands. I reach for a bottle of water, partly because I’m parched, and partly to cover up the fit of giggles that’s about to erupt from my lungs “You okay, chef?” I ask, trying to keep a straight face as I watch him fumble with the spatula. “Yeah, sure Brielle.” He scratches his forehead, and I can practically see the sweat beading up. Poor baby's never looked so stressed. “Sure you've totally got this, Andrei?” I survey the chaos, raising an eyebrow at the egg-astrophe. The shells are scattered everywhere and there's a bowl of what appears to be e