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
Brielle “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.”***Three Months Earlier…I groaned, struggling to wake up as my mom called my name for the tenth time, shouting it like there was no end to her chorus of “Brielle! Brielle!”Christ, Mom. Gimme a break.And before I could even open my eyes, she'd already yanked the covers off my bed, leaving me shivering and cursing in the chilly air. I groaned again, rubbing my eyes to clear the sleep away. “Seriously, Mom? Can’t a girl get some rest on a Saturday morning?”With a resigned sigh, I forced myself out of bed, brushed my teeth, and took a shower. After that, I joined Mom and Dad downstairs for breakfast.As Mom slid a plate of fluffy omelette in front of me, and she pinned me with a maternal gaze. “Hunny, did you write down that list I
Brielle's POV Graduation day had come and gone. Mom, Dad and I had celebrated, done the whole 'picture with the diploma' bit, and now I was ready to party. Ivy and I had hit up the local bar, and were letting loose, celebrating our newfound freedom from school. Mom, bless her heart, was unaware of this particular part of the celebration, also the fact that her goody two shoes daughter was pounding down the drinks like there was no tomorrow. “Hey, bartender, what's that drink called again? You know, the one with the little umbrella?” I slurred my words, barely holding it together. The bartender, a patient-looking woman in her forties, smiled kindly at me. “You mean Mai Tai, hon?” “That’s the one,” I said, giving her a thumbs-up. “I'll have another one of those,” I was having the time of my life. Ariana Grande’s 'Thank U, Next' blasted through the speakers, my head swaying from side to side, nodding to the beat. For the first time in my life, I was in a bar, getting tipsy_
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 fou
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
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