Andrei's POV. My fingers hover over the keyboard, ready to dish out another serving of banter, when a sixth sense alerts me to Paul’s presence. Instinctively, my face shifts from its usual mask of irreverent charm into a serious, professional veneer. Shutting my laptop, I gaze at Paul with interest, “New York… did you conquer the city, or did it conquer you?” Paul chuckles, “I think the city won this round. I got lost in Times Square for an hour, but, it… It was worth it.” “Don't worry. Getting lost in Times Square is just the city's way of saying, 'You're welcome to come back anytime'.” Paul's laughter trails off, and I swiftly shift gears, my expression transforming from amusement to intensity. “Brief me,” “It's not good, boss. Ms. McCarthy's has somehow managed to get on Valtor's radar, and now she's facing some very real and very serious threats.” “They're on her tail?” “More like they're closing in. We're running out of time.” What was she thinking? Getting mixed up wit
Brielle's POV The countdown to our family trip to paradise is on… Mom and Dad flit about the house like over-caffeinated hummingbirds, filling suitcases with swim trunks, sunscreen, and flip-flops. Me? I'm trapped in a vortex of second-guessing. With their anticipation bubbling over, this conversation's going to be a pit of lava. The truth is, it's not that I don't want to go—it's just…well, Ivy. She's like the world's most unexpected surprise party. You're not sure if you're going to love it or hate it. Mom’s descent down the stairs takes on a new intensity as she catches sight of me at the staircase’s midpoint, “Brielle, What’s the holdup? You should’ve been packing hours ago.” Dads glued to his watch like a limpet on a rock, his gaze fixed on the relentless march of time as he hustles after Mom. Meanwhile, I’m standing at the end of the stairs, frozen with indecision. My smile is more of a grimace, a thin line of discomfort stretching across my face as I scramble for an e
Brielle's POV Ivy shoots me a curious glance as we wait for the traffic light to turn green. “Where are you off to, all dressed up?” she asks, her voice competing with the sounds of the morning commute – car engines, chatter, and the wail of sirens in the distance. I chuckle and say, “Just a meeting.” Ivy gives me a skeptical look. Luckily, the traffic light changes, and I drop her off, cutting our conversation short. Today is a whirlwind of meetings. After dropping Ivy off, I kick things off with my accountant, who somehow makes finance fascinating, I know, I'm surprised too. Next, I meet with a business buddy to brainstorm, bounce ideas, and possibly create a few new ones. Post-meeting, I need a caffeine intervention, so I grab a coffee on my way to collect Ivy. We arrive home, and she's having a major stare-down with her reflection, analyzing every strand. Girl's checked herself out so many times, I'm starting to think she's trying to set a new record. Been there, done
Brielle's POV Marcus brings the car to a smooth halt, his courtesy never faltering even in the dark of night. With a gentle gesture, he opens the door, his eyes following my every step as I emerge from the car. The night air is cool and still, with only the stars and the moon to light my way. The darkness seems to swallow the surroundings, obscuring the path ahead. But I know this is an outdoor venue, a garden maybe Because it's like a perfume bomb went off — roses, jasmine, lavender… it's heavenly. My eyes are glued to this one spot in the distance, where a warm light is shining softly. There's something about it that's just so inviting… I feel myself being pulled towards it, Just as I'm transfixed, I sense someone behind me. I don't need to turn around to know it's him — Andrei. His cologne is unmistakable, it's just… him. It's familiar, comforting, exciting all at once. I'm anticipating a sweet, gentle gesture, but Andrei throws me a curveball. He wraps a blindfold arou
Jeremy's POV All nonsense put aside, I slam the map onto the table, “Eyes on me,” I bark, “I don’t have time for screw-ups. “ My hand jabs into the tabletop, each thrust an exclamation point to punctuate the severity of the situation. These morons can be as dumb as a box of rocks sometimes, and the effort it takes to get through to them has my temper running hotter than a desert sun. '“At 0200 hours, the target will land at the Kahului Airport, Maui. The airport is primarily a regional hub, with limited security, which should make our operation smoother than a freshly ironed aloha shirt." I inform my crew, their faces intent as they listen to my debriefing. “Our scouts will monitor the flight’s arrival, keeping a constant line of sight on the target as they exit the plane and enter their transportation. We’ll have an unmarked SUV parked nearby, with the windows blacked out to prevent recognition. The driver will be wear a chauffeur's uniform, his ID on display for anyone wh
Jeremy's POV Enter Jones. Don't let his age fool you – the man's a certified brainiac. He settles in, and We get down to brass tacks, discussing the details. “I'm cutting ties with Andrei for good and taking full control of the two companies I snatched from him. I'm consolidating my ownership with a vertical integration strategy, aiming for a 100% stake with zero ties to the Carter empire. I'm expecting Andrei to try rallying his allies or attempting a hostile takeover, but I'm ready. I've got my lawyer drafting a bulletproof shareholder agreement and setting up a poison pill strategy to block any takeover attempts.” The old man listens intently, demonstrating a clear grasp of the situation. He takes meticulous notes as I outline my plan. “I'll be darned, Jeremy. You're one of those 'new-fangled' thinkers, aren't ya? I swear, you're so smart, you make me feel like I just fell off the turnip truck.” A lopsided grin spreads across my face, oozing self-assurance. I've got all th
Brielle's POV Hawaii's supposed to be a relaxing vacation, for my parents, but for me, it's turning into a never-ending cycle of worry. Mom's phone keeps going straight to voicemail. No calls, no texts, no 'Aloha, darling!' selfies. It's like a full moon, a red sky at dawn, a black cat crossing your path—you just know something's up. I'm phone-stalking, waiting for her call to light up the screen… but it's just not happening. I force down the lump in my throat and head to the kitchen for a glass of water. My nerves are fried, and I'm getting the shakes. I glance at the clock, hoping to distract myself from the tremors in my hands. 3am. Still awake. Still anxious. 'Mom, Dad, just give me a sign of life. I'm starting to picture you being brainwashed by a group of coconut-wielding, hula-dancing fanatics_' My muttered curse is accompanied by a deep, frustrated breath. Andrei's voice cuts through my reverie, and I turn to see him standing in the doorway, a mixture of amusement an
Andrei's POV. I channel my inner bedtime butler, complete with a fancy tuck-and-pull motion. I give Brielle the works: extra-fluffy pillow, soothing pat on the head, and a blanket pulled up to her chin because clearly, I've been demoted to bedtime nanny. 3:59 am: the time it takes for her sleep-deprived brain to finally surrender to the sandman, leaving me to stand guard, listening to the symphony of her snores… She's out cold, a sleeping beauty with a face that's equal parts adorable and alluring. Those luscious lashes, the gentle curve of her lips, the soft tangle of her hair… The vibration in my pocket is a cold dose of reality, a reminder that the clock is ticking. I've been waiting for this call, but the unknown variables are what's got me on edge. I step into the hallway, phone glued to my ear. My eyes scan the shadows, my senses on overdrive, “I'm listening,” “Carter, you're going all-in. You're gonna transfer your assets to me. And I ain't talking pennies here. Yo
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