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 I attempt to deflect, my words tumbling out in a sarcastic rush. "Oh, great. Because what I really need right now is you stripping down in front of me. That's exactly what'll help me focus on finding Ivy." I force a dry tone, trying to conceal the flutter in my chest. I cross my arms, adopting a defensive stance, and meet his gaze with a challenge. "This isn't helping, Andrei. We need to focus." “Liam's got his issues, but harming Ivy isn't on his radar. Trust me, I've known him long enough. The police will track her down, they're working around the clock. And if it turns out Ivy's playing both sides with Liam, she's out. They'll both be singing to the cops.” I gasp. What? No way. Andrei can't be serious. He cocks his head to the side, a wicked smile spreading across his face. “Trust me, I've done this rodeo before. I protect my business at all costs.” Ivy's in trouble… again. And honestly, I'm not surprised. She's never exactly been the poster child for selfl
Brielle's POV The tub is a sight to behold, all sleek and designer, with dancing lights and a fancy rain shower head. Andrei leans over the tub, filling it up, and then he's adding some expensive looking bath oil. The bath fills, and the oil erupts into a fluffy, pink-hued foam, releasing the juicy scent of ripe strawberries and blueberries. I hover in the doorway, my arms wrapped around myself, wary eyes scanning the scene before stepping forward, my eyes lingering on Andrei's physique, admiring him. Oh no, I'm staring. Stop staring. Why can't I stop? He's just so… put together. Unlike me, a hot mess. I take Andrei's hand, our fingers intertwining, and he pulls me in. It's electrifying, the charge between us almost tangible. My senses are on high alert, my heart racing as his hands slide down to the tie of my robe. With a gentle tug, he undoes the knot. “Release that lip, Brielle. I want to be the one biting it.” I release my lip, but my tongue darts out, moistening
Brielle's POV. I leap from the bath tub, water sloshing all over the place. Seriously, how did my mom manage to find the Carter estate? That woman's got some crazy tracking skills. Panic sets in as I scan the bathroom, unsure what I'm searching for. I spot the towel rack and react on instinct, snatching a towel and hastily wrapping it around my dripping body. Andrei's just sitting there, in bathtub, looking at me with that “what the hell's going on” expression on his face. Well, that's not gonna cut it, is it? We're in deep trouble here, and all he can do is stare at me like I'm speaking gibberish or something. The voices, muffled but still clear, continue to seep through the bathroom door and I know, I just know, that Mom's in there, arguing with Paul. She's like a pit bull, that woman, stubborn and determined as hell. I pause trying to make sense of the words. “I apologize, ma'am, but you must leave.” Mom's voice is sharp and pointed, as she fires back at Paul. “I
Brielle's POV I stare at her, my mouth agape, unable to form the words to protest. Mom's eyes seem to read my doubts, and I falter. “What?” she asks. I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. “I don't know, Mom. This just feels sudden.” Mom's gaze doesn't waver. “We need to go, Brielle. Now.” “It's… It's you demanding that I leave. I mean,” “I'm not demanding, Brielle. I'm protecting you.” “Protecting me from what?” “From here. From him.” Paul's presence has disappeared. I'm thankful for the privacy he's afforded us. “Brielle, I'm tired. Tired of all the excuses, the lies, the evasiveness. I'm still trying to understand what's going on between you and Andrei, and why you're so unwilling to tell me the truth. Every time I ask, you give me the runaround, like there's something you're not telling me.,” “Mom, I swear I've never intentionally lied to you. I know I haven't been completely open with you, but that's because… I didn't know how to explain everything. It'
Brielle's POV “Hand it over. I want to see the contract. Every word. Every clause. And then I'm going to make sure it's destroyed. Nullified. Gone. You're not manipulating my daughter with some shady agreement.” What am I supposed to do? Mom's so mad, and I don't blame her, but Andrei's not the villain she thinks he is. Being her only daughter, she's naturally protective. I appreciate that. But sometimes, it's like she doesn't see me, doesn't see the woman I've become. “I'm not leaving this place, Andrei Carter, until that contract is shredded, and my daughter is free from your grasp. You're not controlling her life or manipulating her future. Not while I'm still breathing.” Andrei's eyes flicks to me for, a second. What's he thinking? Is he mad? Disappointed? Or is it something more? He's still not saying anything. Just standing there, all stoic. It's infuriating. Can't he see Mom's freaking out? A little reassurance would be nice. “Mom, can we step aside for a minute
Andrei's POV. I'm heading towards my car at a rapid pace, my mind consumed by thoughts of what could be happening. But when I try to call Paul, I'm met with an annoying busy signal. I hear Helen's frantic voice behind me, but I don't have time to reassure her. I rip open the driver's door and dive into the seat. My key jams into the ignition, and I crank the engine to life. Taking a moment to collect myself, I turn to Helen… “Keep Alexis indoors, lock every door, every window. Don't open them for anyone. Not a neighbor, not a delivery guy, not even a cop. No one. You're the only one I trust to keep him safe. I'll be back as soon as I can." Helen's subtle nod is enough. I floor it, racing away from the Carter estate. It's Jeremy. I'm certain of it. He's the only one twisted enough to pull a stunt like this. I slam the pedal to the floor, racing towards Brielle's apartment with a gut full of rage. What's his twisted motive for snatching her because I know it's him – the sick
Andrei's POV “I need you to wrap things up, Paul. Adjourn the meeting until tomorrow evening. I'm slammed right now. Get out of the office and go pick up Brielle — it's almost 7 pm,” I tell him over the phone, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. This guy can be a bit of a space cadet sometimes. I swear, I told him to leave the office early and pick Brielle up on time. What's going through that head of his? He's still rambling on, saying something about how he thought I was going to pick up Brielle myself. But honestly, I don't have time for this conversation. I'm not in the mood to argue, and even on a normal day, I wouldn't hesitate to debate him until I proved my point. I suck in a deep breath, feeling the cool night air fill my lungs. The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers is nice and all, but I'm not exactly here to stop and smell the roses. My mind's preoccupied with one person: Brielle. The woman who's been on my mind 24/7, and who I'm about to put
Brielle's POV I take a deep breath, my heart still racing, but he looks more concerned than angry. He calmly rolls up his sleeves, slip off his shoes and pads silently over to the window. He pushes it open, and a rush of cool air sweeps in, carrying the scent of the night with it. I breathe deeply, feeling the freshness fill my lungs, and suddenly, I'm alive again. Returning, he takes my hand gently, his fingers locking into place with a tender yet thrilling pressure. My heart begins to flutter, and a wave of excitement washes over me as he escorts me to the bathroom. He towers over me, his eyes locked on mine, and carefully begins to unbutton my T-shirt. He slips the shirt off my body, his fingers grazing my skin, and tosses it aside, Warmth spread through my core, settling in the sensitive area between my legs. My heartbeat quickens, and my veins thrum with anticipation, He selects a plush towel from the heated rail, dips it in warm water, and gently wrings it out. The sof
Brielle's POV Just as I'm about to toss back another shot, he swoops in and snatches the glass right out of my hand. I'm caught off guard, and my eyes widen in surprise. I'm left standing there, feeling a little silly and a lot relieved… “I believe we've concluded our meeting. Now, how about I make sure you get home safely?” I wave my hand dramatically, nearly losing my balance. “Oh no, no, no! The meeting's just getting to the good part.” I declare, my words slurring slightly. I point a wobbly finger at him. He's still gazing at me with an infuriatingly calm expression. Meanwhile, I'm over here, dying from embarrassment and struggling to stay upright as the room spins like a crazy top., I'm pretty sure I'm going to need a map to find my dignity tomorrow morning… I push myself up from the bar stool, but my legs have other plans. I stumble, and my face heats up with embarrassment. Note to self: being bold and fearless is way easier in theory. Right now, my main priority is no
Brielle's POV. Aurum - where the rich and powerful come to eat like kings and queens while pretending to discuss business. I've heard the food is divine, the service impeccable, and the ambiance… well, let's just say it's the perfect place to make a statement. Or, in my case, to lure out a certain elusive CEO. The exterior is sleek and modern, all glass and steel, while the interior is warm and inviting, with rich wood accents and crisp white linens. My heart's racing, and I'm obsessively checking the clock. II've been flirting with a staff employee to get a rise out of my boss don't judge me, it was a desperate plan and now the moment of truth is finally here. Will my mystery boss step out of the shadows and reveal his face? And, more importantly, will he be the ridiculously handsome and infuriating Andrei Carter? I'm 99.9% sure it's him… Only Andrei could throw me under the bus like that, and I just can't fathom why he's been hiding. I'm bursting to see him, to fi
Brielle's POV I'm deep in thought, pondering the mystery that is Jeremy, when the speakers starts blaring and scares the daylights out of me, “Aren't you going to get down to work? Or are you just going to continue perfecting the art of doing nothing.” Okay, Mr. Carter, I think it's time to level up from 'Mysterious Voice' to 'Actual Human Being'. With renewed interest, I sit up straight. “Sir, I'd appreciate the opportunity to meet you face-to-face. Is that something we could arrange?” “A meeting in person is… not possible, Brielle. At least, not at this time. Let's just say that my… situation requires a certain level of discretion. But I assure you, our working relationship will continue to be… productive." “Of course, I can respect your desire for anonymity. But, if you don't mind me asking, what's the harm in a simple introduction? I'm curious to see if the rest of you lives up to the charm of your voice.” “Really?” he says, his tone as neutral, but with a hint of mischi
Brielle's POV Ivy rubs her fingers on her temple, “I swear, Brielle, you're going to give me gray hairs. What were you thinking, not telling me about… Not telling me about everything?!” I shoot her a frantic glance, willing her to keep quiet. But it's too late. Mom's already descending the staircase, a curious expression on her face. “What's going on? You two look like you're sharing a state secret,” Seriously, Mom? Now? “It's really nothing. Ivy and I were just talking about, you know, stuff.” I wave my hands dismissively, hoping Mom will drop it, but she's not buying it." “Stuff?” she echoes, arching an eyebrow skeptically, “Well, 'stuff' seems to have gotten you two pretty worked up. Care to share what's got you so whisper-happy? Wait a minute, Brielle,” Mom eyes narrow as she notices my outfit. “Aren't those the clothes you wore to work today? What have you two been up to that you haven't even had time to change?” I shift uncomfortably, trying to find a way to explain wi
Brielle's POV It's another Monday, and time seems to have gone into overdrive. It's as if someone hit the fast-forward button on my life, and I'm racing through days at breakneck speed. I step out of the car, my eyes adjusting to the bright morning light, when suddenly, I'm met with a sight so surreal that I rub my eyes, convinced I'm still dreaming. There, emblazoned across the glass walls of CCI, is a vivid, technicolor rendition of the portrait of me. It's me, frozen in time, my features heightened by the vivid pigments splashed across the canvas. My jaw drops in shock as I stare, mesmerized, at the larger-than-life image of myself. Stunned, I take a few hesitant steps towards the building, my heart thudding against my chest. It's like déjà vu all over again, except this time, the portrait is staring back at me with an intensity that makes me want to shrink back into the shadows. Once inside the lobby of the office building I find myself scrutinizing the faces of those
Brielle's POV The doorbell's shrill ring cuts through the silence of the house, and Mom pops her head out of the kitchen. “Brielle, can you get the door please?” I'm right in the middle of crushing this project. My fingers grip the mouse like it's a lifeline, but I know I'm beat. Mom's expectant gaze is practically burning a hole through the wall. With a dramatic sigh, I push my chair back, and trudge towards the door. Whoever is on the other side better be worth it. The doorbell rings again, and I'm already halfway to the door. “Brielle!” “Got it, Mom!” I holler back, trying to save her the trouble of wiping her flour-covered hands on her apron. She's been cooking up a storm in the kitchen all morning, and I've been busy with work. I swing open the door, and my eyes land on a gentle-looking man standing on our porch. He's dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans, and his warm smile puts me at ease. But what really catches my attention is the bouquet of sunflowers in hi