Andrei's POV. Whoever shot at wife better start praying to whatever god they believe in, 'cause they're gonna need all the divine intervention they can get once I get my hands on them. The estate's on high alert. I've reinforced the perimeter, stationed extra men around and sealed off all exits. Brielle's staying put, no arguments. I know she can be stubborn, but I won't budge. She'll remain safe at home while my team and I tackle this Ivy situation, no matter how deadly it gets.However, the latest update has my gut twisting. The location's been rigged with explosives. It's absolute chaos unlike anything I've ever witnessed. Events unfold at breakneck speed, but nothing could've prepared me for this. Paul and the explosives expert assured me they'd defuse the bomb, but now I'm gripped by doubt, “How long until extraction?” I ask, eyes fixed on the road ahead. Paul's voice crackles through the earpiece, “Three minutes, tops. We're still working on disabling the security feeds.
Andrei's POV I stand by the window of my office, gazing out at the city skyline. The bustling streets below seem to stretch on forever. My thoughts are lost in the urban landscape when Sarah's soft voice breaks the silence. “Sir, package just arrived.” I turn, and there's Sarah with this gorgeous bunch of roses. Thick, velvety petals in deep red and pink Sarah's cheeks flush as she places the flowers on my desk. “They're pretty. Meant for your wife, I presume? Who else deserves these three dozen beauties?” A smirk plays on my lips, my gaze drifting to the bouquet, “You think Brielle would love this?” “I think she'll love them. They're beautiful.” However, Someone else is getting lucky today, I hand Sarah the roses. “Stick these in the car, would you? I'm done for the day.'” *** I arrive at the hospital around 3 pm, just before visiting hours end. Standing in Jamie's doorway, I take in the serene scene. She sits upright, clutching a teddy bear to her chest, eyes fixed on the
Brielle's POV I glance towards the entrance, and my heart skips a beat as Andrei stands there, his presence a welcome relief. Finally, he's home. But my attention quickly shifts to the unsettling scene unfolding before me. Helen's behavior is erratic, and I'm lost. She's been ranting about bad omens and curses, things that need to be “cleansed.” I exchange a bewildered glance with Andrei, his expression mirroring my confusion. I thought I knew Helen, but this superstitious side of her is unfamiliar. And who is this elderly man she's brought along? His presence only adds to the chaos. Andrei's face darkens, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene. He looks like he's about to explode. “Oh, Andrei, thank goodness you're here! We need your help to chase away the evil spirits…" Helen motions for him to follow. He keeps his eyes trained on me, gritting his teeth… Well, don't stare at me like that... “The Oracle's here,” she announces. “He traveled 120 miles just to get here.
Brielle's POV Ivy's gaze pierces mine, and I feel my cheeks flush. “You, of all people, handling company finances? You can't even manage your own expenses.” I cringe inwardly. Why do I always bring my emotional luggage – and a side of financial chaos – to her perfectly organized life? “Marketing, Brielle. That's your expertise. Not accounting. What possessed you to take on that role?” I squirm under her scrutiny, shame washing over me. Andrei's offer had seemed like a vote of confidence, a sign that he trusted me. But now, I realize my ignorance. “Andrei suggested it,” I admit. Ivy's expression turns stern. “And you didn't question it? Didn't think twice about taking on a responsibility that's so far out of your league?” I shake my head, feeling a mix of embarrassment and defensiveness. “You have to tell Andrei or if things go south, it's gonna be on you. Or have you told him?” I wince, the weight of responsibility crushing me. Ivy's right, I have to tell Andrei. But how do
Brielle's POV.Mom thinks she's saving me, but from what? Love? Happiness? The Carter's imperfect chaos?Her words are stuck in my head, and I'm freaking out, doubts eating away at my trust in Andrei. Fear's got me in a chokehold.I'm torn between loving him and listening to her warnings. What if she's right? What if the Carters are hiding something?Why did she have to say that? Why now? Just when I thought I'd found my happiness.The Carters may have their skeletons, but they've got heart. Helen and Edna are the ultimate package deal — love, laughs, and culinary mastery.I recall their frantic prep for my wedding: 'Don't trip!' 'Smile!' Now, they're my quirky family. They've been sweet and reassuring since day one. What's not to love?I reminisce about my whirlwind wedding to Andrei. One night, rescue; next day, 'I do.' But those two lovely ladies made me feel like I'd known them forever.And that initial nervousness was forgotten. Marrying a stranger, coping with his wheelchair-b
Brielle's POV.The muscles in his jaw flex as he grinds his teeth, his deep brown eyes flashing with anger. Yet, in their depths, a spark of vulnerability flickers, hinting at a pain that goes beyond mere fury.“You're really going to cut and run? Just wake up one morning and decide you're done? No discussion, no compromise. Just… gone. You always do this, Brielle, don't you? You do whatever you want, whenever you want, and to hell with everyone else.”I shake my head firmly, my voice trembling with conviction. “That's not true, Andrei. I'm just doing what needs to be done.”“What needs to be done? Yeah. Leaving me, walking out on our agreement, that's what needs to be done_”He runs his fingers through his hair, pacing back and forth as he struggles to contain his emotions. “How… why would you even consider leaving me like this? I don't understand. Have I wronged you in some way?”My heart shatters further, the words barely a whisper, “You haven't wronged me, Andrei. Not really. Exce
Brielle's POV. Just as my tears are about to spill, I catch a flicker of something in Andrei's eyes- a struggle. His voice is low, strained, like he's forcing the words out, “My apologies if my words caused you any distress. If leaving is what you truly desire, then by all means, please feel free to walk away." Andrei's "apology" is nothing short of infuriating. He speaks as if he's doing me a favor, offering me the gracious opportunity to leave. It's like he's treating this breakup like a casual conversation, not the unraveling of a relationship that I thought was solid. And I'm trying so hard to mask my pain, but His words really cut deep — the idea that he thinks I only care about his money is just really difficult to deal with. I'm literally dying inside right now. How could they all think that? I never cared about the money. It wasn't even on my radar. But Mom thinks I'm some kind of money-grubbing opportunist, and now even Andrei… Maybe they're right. Maybe I'm just a cha
Brielle's POV The autumn wind howls outside, but it's nothing compared to the ache within me… “Honey, here's a blanket,” Mom whispers, as she wraps the soft material around my shoulders. I accept it gratefully and pull it blanket tight around me, tucking my hands into its folds to stave off the chill. “You're not getting off the hook that easy, Brielle, If you don't eat, I won't either. We're in this together, you and me. You're not gonna starve yourself while I sit here eating a sandwich.” The food on the table stares back at me, “I'm not hungry, Mom,” I insist, my voice brittle. "I couldn't eat even if I tried." Mom's face crumples a little, her eyes speaking the words her lips won't. “Bri, I know this is hard. How long are you gonna keep crying over this? It's been two days since you got back home, and you haven't stopped,” her hands are gentle as she wipes the tears from my cheeks. "Did Andrei break your heart, or did he stomp on it?" I shake my head, "It's not lik
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