“What have I done?” I ask, my mind racing to recall any wrongdoing on my part. But nothing comes to mind, and I find myself at a loss to explain his reaction. “You gave Jeremy half of the newly acquired shares in our latest deal? What the hell possessed you to do that?” “Andrei, I'm at a loss for words. I have no idea how this could have happened, and I am just as shocked as you are, hearing this.” Andrei restless. He seems mad. Really mad. I try to reason with him, “I swear I don't have a clue how that happened.” “I Can't make sense of this, either. I mean, I entrusted you with this responsibility, and now you're telling me you don't know how this happened? You've been managing this project for a while now.” “You think I'd lie to you? No way.” “But it certainly it defies all logic and reason that you could be so oblivious to something like this happening under your watch. I mean, Jesus Christ, Brielle. Get your shit together.” Andrei's not buying a word of what I'm sayin
I bite down on my lips, thinking of the right words to come up with Mom's glaring at me, demanding answers, and I'm coming up with nothing. “Brielle, I never thought I'd have to say this, but I am beyond disappointed in you.” The words cut deep. “Why you would keep us in the dark like this? We were planning a surprise for you and Dad, Brielle. A family trip, just something to bring the whole family together. But now, I can't even comprehend what you're telling me.” I swallow hard, trying to gather my thoughts. “It just sort of happened. One minute I was living my life, the next I'm married. I know it sounds crazy, but it's the truth. I don't know how to explain it any better than that.” “How could you go ahead and marry someone like that? Money? Is that what it is? Did you marry some rich guy for his money?” “No, no. Not that.” I shake my head,“ There was a contract saying I had to be someone's wife, and I couldn't go back on it. I never meant to keep this from you, I ju
“Bait? What exactly do you mean by that, Brielle? You're not seriously considering putting me in harm's way just to catch a criminal, are you?” “Liam stole from our company while I was responsible for overseeing everything,” “Oh, hell no. There's got to be a smarter way to handle this, one that doesn't involve me being the scapegoat. Why not involve the cops? Let's come up with a plan that doesn't put my neck on the chopping block. I got my own stuff to deal with, like the fact that Liam ghosted me without explanation.” “It happened while I was supposed to be keeping an eye on things. Andrei made it clear that I had to make sure Liam didn't mess up, but somehow he managed to pull a fast one on me.” Ivy's curiosity is piqued, and she sets down her drink to listen. I explain to her that Liam and Andrei don't get along, and that's why he took the shares. I don't want to go into too much detail. Liam has said some pretty nasty things about me and Andrei in the past. He talke
His eyes meet mine, and it's like he's snapped out of a trance, and I'm doing everything possible to not look at Eva, who's has her arms wrapped around him. My heart's pounding. Hard. Andrei tries to call out my name, but before he can even finish the first syllable, I'm turning on my heel and heading back towards elevator. I'm trying to keep it together, but inside I'm a mess of emotions, and it's taking everything in me not to just break down. The elevator doors start to slide shut, and I see Andrei bolting towards me, but it's too late. The doors shut with a satisfying ding and I let out a long breath. Desperate to put some distance between me and the hot mess that is Andrei and Eva, my hands are shaking as I turn the key in the lock, sealing myself safely in my room. I plopped my ass down on the bed, take my shoes off, undo a couple of buttons on my shirt. My toes curl and my palms dig into the mattress, holding me up as I brace myself for the inevitable. His words are
“How's your life going as Mrs. Carter?” Ivy asks, her eyes meeting mine through the rearview mirror as she smooths on a rich, berry-wine lipstick.I laugh, but there’s a nervous edge to it. Even with all the bravado, I can’t shake the jitters I’m feeling about our little scheme “Mrs. Carter life's pretty crazy. Ivy it's chaos. One chaos after another." Ivy and I are twinning tonight, decked out in floor-length, black, glittery gowns that twinkle under the lights. Her own gown takes things up a notch with a daring, high slit that shows off her toned leg.“Here's the tea, Brielle,” she expertly seals the lipstick and tucks it away, “You and Andrei are like two different planets orbiting each other. Yeah, sometimes it's all rainbows and sunshine, but other times, it's like a freaking asteroid belt.”Her analogy is spot-on, and I nod, recognizing the truth in her words, as we drive through the city.“Three years,” Ivy says with a grave sincerity. “That's the timeline, Brielle. If things
Andrei's POV. 'Liam, you son of a gun.' “Must be using all my money to throw a party like this,” I think to myself, glancing around at the extravagance on display. I wave off the valet's offer to park my car, preferring to handle it myself. After all, I'm not officially on the guest list, but that hasn't stopped me from showing up. Liam's a master thief, and those shares are the key to sabotaging Carter Industries. I won't let that happen – the stakes are too high. With Brielle's unpredictable plans, I'm counting on her and Ivy to get it right. Our sole objective is securing the shares. Once that's done, we can put this ordeal behind us and head home. Upon entering the ballroom, I accept a flute of champagne, only to be met with a jaw-dropping spectacle. There’s Brielle, twirling around the dance floor with some random bloke. She's got her arms around him, laughing like she hasn't got a care in the world. I wonder if this is all part of the plan to retrieve my prop
Andrei's POV There's loads of work at the office, but I don't spend much time there today. I grab my keys, and I'm off, very quickly. As I exit my office and stride down the corridor, Sarah’s voice echoes behind me.“Sir, you have a meeting at one o’clock,” “Cancel it.” I don't break stride as I continue on my path to the elevator. “Sir?” I pause, my jaw tightening as I consider her. She's loyal, efficient, and good at her job. But she doesn't know what I'm dealing with right now. “Cancel the meeting, Sarah,” I repeat “We'll reschedule.” She nods, a slight dip of her head that conveys her acquiescence. I’m already moving again, my focus fixed on the exit. Just as I’m about to round the corner, a flurry of footsteps alerts me to the fact that Sarah is hot on my heels. What gives? Thought I made myself clear back there? As I pivot to face for the second time, she halts in her tracks, her expression urgent, "Mr. Adams was just here, Sir." "Mr. Adams?" I echo, m
Andrei's POV Brielle's slumber is a fragile thing, her breathing steady but uncertain. And standing over her, his brow furrowed with concern, is Doctor Corey, a man whose appearance seems almost too stereotypical for the seriousness of the situation. “How's she doing?” I ask. He meets my gaze, his expression serious. “Her condition is troubling.” I take a step forward, “Troubling? What does that mean?” “The sedative should have worn off by now, but she's still showing signs of grogginess. Whatever she may have been drugged with was stronger than we initially thought.” “Stronger? What does that mean for her? Will she be okay?” “It's difficult to say with certainty. We'll need to monitor her closely and run some more tests. There's a chance that the sedative could have left some lasting effects, but it's too early to say for sure.” I take a deep breath, my gaze flitting to Brielle's sleeping form. “The blood work is underway, Mr. Carter. We should have results by tom
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
Andrei's POV Can’t bear to see Brielle cry. It tears me up inside when she’s hurting, and I don’t know what to call that feeling. It's something profound. Something so much stronger than just basic empathy or sympathy. I'd take a beating any day over seeing her hurt. “If you're willing to spend the rest of your life behind bars, Andrei, then you'd better have a plan for how I'm supposed to move on without you. How do I live without you by my side? You'd better have an answer because otherwise, I won't let you take that step.” “Jail for life? You're jumping to conclusions.” She shoots me an incredulous look. “Are you seriously gaslighting me again?” I laugh, the sound a little rough around the edges. "I'm talking forever with you, Brielle – but not the kind that involves parole officers or therapists' couches." Her head cants to one side, Her gaze skewers me, a sharp, pointed thing that demands an answer. “Andrei, do you honestly believe that talking to someone about our
Brielle's POV “What's going to happen?” I ask. A simple query, yet one that stirs my heart to frantic rhythms. A faint sneer ghosts Andrei's lips as opens the car and steps out into the night air. I follow suit, Why? Because I'm dying to know what's gonna happen. The glint in his beautiful brown eyes is unmistakable, as mischievous as a raccoon raiding a trashcan, “A war is coming, Brielle. A category 15 hurricane that's gonna rip our families apart. We're talking Corleones vs. Tattaglias, but instead of just guns and money, it's gonna be secrets and lies that kill us. You know how Tony Soprano's crew thought they were above the law? Yeah, our families are about to take that to a whole new level. You ready for that?” I respond in kind, my tone tart with annoyance, while fighting the impulse to shake some sense into him." Are we reenacting The Godfather or something? Is someone gonna wake up with a severed horse head in their bed?” My eyes narrow, daring him to feed me anot
Brielle's POV The Aston Martin Vantage is parked curbside That glossy blue paint job is pure perfection. And there’s Andrei, his lean frame propped against the car like he’s auditioning for a part in ‘The Fast and the Furious: Therapy Drift.’ His effortless charm is on full display as he lounges against the car… Why, do I feel like a gas station hotdog next to his caviar-and-dom-perignon charm? That’s right, I’m feeling like a greasy, no-frills piece of road trip sustenance compared to his gourmet level of sophistication and style. He’s the Maserati, and I’m the beat-up Honda Civic from the 90s. “Took you longer than I expected.” With I calming breath I query, “No heads-up, huh? Why's that?” “Seriously, Brielle? You're asking me why?” “Didn't you send me a text asking about my therapist choice?” The passenger door swings open, and he steps back, his eyes never leaving the horizon. He's not even bothering to look at me, just stands there, holding the door. I'm thinkin
Brielle's POV Coffee. My savior. I stumble to the kitchen, brew a cup, and chug it down. Now I'm human, sort of. I scroll through my phone, check my schedule, and see that I've got an appointment with Dr. Lane later. Ivy's been trying to reach me, but I've been conveniently unavailable. For a reason. I'm not investing in her therapist fan fiction. I've got a real-life storyline with Andrei, and that's where my focus stays. Pope Moonlight on the pole? Just a little satire, don't @ me. The Pope's got enough on his plate, saving souls and whatnot. And Dr. Lane? He's an island of calm, not a stormy sea of scandal. Ivy's just casting her own wild net of imagination over the poor guy who's nose-deep in his notes, trying to decipher whatever scribbles are in there. Dr. Lane’s focus shifts, back to me. “You and Andrei. I’d like to know how things are going between you two. Are you getting along, or is there friction?” “We're fine. Just…coexisting, I guess. Things have improved between u
Jeremy's POV. I light a cigarette, fighting the urge to grab Odessa by the throat. “You're in bed with that son of a bitch, aren't you? You're working with brother.” I watch as her eyes slightly go wide. She sucks in a breath so deep, I think she’s gonna pass out. Then, she shakes her head at me. “No. I’m pretty damn sure you’re playing for the other team, so let’s cut the crap. Which side are you on?” “My side has been yours… since day one.” I pull out my gun from the drawer. Patience isn't my strong suit. That's the fundamental difference between my brother and me: while Andrei's a saint, I'm the devil with a deadline. Odessa, on the other hand, looks unafraid, trying to tough it out. Typical witch, all bravado, and mystery. I'd caught her off guard back there; for a split second, her mask had slipped. Beneath all that witchy bluster, she's just a softie who's been caught… and isn't exactly thrilled about it. “Seems my brother worked his charm on you. I'm well aware of Andre