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. For so long, I've wanted to do this. I've fantasized about it, daydreamed about it. And now, finally, it's happening. One punch, that's all it's gonna take. One swift, sweet punch to wipe the smugness off Liam's face for good.He's got this air about him, this arrogance that's just begging to be shattered. And I'm the one who's gonna do it. I'm gonna knock him off that pedestal he's been sitting on for far too long. The policemen are clueless, and I seize the moment. I cock my fist back, and throw a hard one, fueled by months of bottled-up frustration, months of gritting my teeth and playing nice. Now, finally, I get to let it all out. And I'm far from done. I cock my arm back, ready to unleash another brutal blow, but the cops intervene just in time, pulling me off Liam. I'm prepared to face the music. A fine, a slap on the wrist — it's a small price to pay for taking care of Liam. I'd do it again in a second. They toss him into the back seat of the squad car, a
Brielle's POV The smell of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon wafts through the air as I enter the kitchen. Mom's setting out our favorite breakfast dishes, and I spot the special mug she only uses on holidays. “Good morning, sleepyhead… Honey, did you apply for that job at Cartridge Corp? Your dad mentioned they were looking for someone with your skills.” I drop into my chair, still shaking off the sleepies, and grab a glass of orange juice. As I take a sip, the tartness helps snap me out of my morning funk. As for the job at Cartridge Corp, I hesitate, unsure of how to respond. I had been putting off applying, unsure if I was ready to dive back into the workforce. But with Dad mentioning it, I know I'll have to face the question eventually. “I…I was thinking about it, Mom,” I say, attempting to sound more… decisive than I feel. “I just need to update my resume and cover letter, and then I'll submit my application.” “That's great, sweetie! I know you'll do fantastic. You
Brielle's POV. Those dazzling, pearly whites own me, every single time. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and I swear, it's like he has me under a spell. He's rocking that custom-made suit, every move screams confidence, And those legs? Lord have mercy, They're long, muscular, utterly captivating. And then there’s the way he touches his earpiece, so casual, so smooth. Like he’s orchestrating something big, something important. He tilts his head slightly, that familiar intensity in his eyes… 'Ms. Monroe.' The words echo, over and over, each one wrapped in that low, velvet tone I know so well. Andrei’s voice, It's like butter for my soul, melting me into a puddle of desire. 'Mr. Carter.' His name tumble out of my mouth, unbidden, but oh-so-welcome, like I’m part of this moment with him—like we’re connected in some strange, unspoken way. I don’t understand what’s happening, but I don’t want it to stop. I feel anchored and weightless all at once, But then the scene starts to unrav
Brielle's POV. A quick glance at my watch confirms my worst fears: 45 minutes late. Not exactly the impression I wanted to make. I leap out of the taxi, already behind schedule. My heels feel like they're slowing me down, but I pick up the pace, dashing through the revolving doors and into the lobby. The reception desk is manned by a gorgeous young woman with jet-black hair, who looks up at me with a sweet, welcoming smile. I feel a sudden pang of self-consciousness as I approach her. “Ms. Monroe, welcome.” she says, her gray eyes sparkling. I nod, wondering how she knew my name. Then I remember — my ID, which I used to apply for the job. “Thank you,” I reply, a faint blush rising to my cheeks. “We've been expecting you, and you arrived right on time… almost,” she teases, “Welcome to Cartridge Industries. We're glad to have you on board, and you're running a bit behind. The boss is expecting you in three minutes. Can it have your ID, please.? “Of course, I'm so sorry,” I apol
Brielle's POV “Don’t worry, I won’t bite… hard, Ms Monroe. Help yourself to a drink and take a deep breath,” he says, and I can almost picture the smirk on his face. “Not nervous, just caffeinated,” I quip, trying to mask my nerves with humor. “Thanks for having, me Sir. This office is… incredible." “Let's get down to business, shall we? Unless you'd like a few more minutes…" I take another breath, trying to steady my nerves, and respond, “No, I'm ready when you are, sir.” A quick seat-adjustment later, I'm ready to face… well, whatever this meeting throws my way. Although I'm starting to feel like a lab rat in some kind of bizarre experiment. The CEO is watching me from who-knows-where, his face hidden behind a veil of secrecy. It's seriously freaking me out. And then there's his voice. It's like a sonic boom, shaking every molecule in the room. I can feel the vibrations humming through my fingertips, making my skin crawl. “Before we proceed, Ms. Monroe I'd, of course, lik
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