Brielle's POV The Aston Martin Vantage is parked curbside That glossy blue paint job is pure perfection. And thereโs Andrei, his lean frame propped against the car like heโs auditioning for a part in โThe Fast and the Furious: Therapy Drift.โ His effortless charm is on full display as he lounges against the carโฆ Why, do I feel like a gas station hotdog next to his caviar-and-dom-perignon charm? Thatโs right, Iโm feeling like a greasy, no-frills piece of road trip sustenance compared to his gourmet level of sophistication and style. Heโs the Maserati, and Iโm the beat-up Honda Civic from the 90s. โTook you longer than I expected.โ With I calming breath I query, โNo heads-up, huh? Why's that?โ โSeriously, Brielle? You're asking me why?โ โDidn't you send me a text asking about my therapist choice?โ The passenger door swings open, and he steps back, his eyes never leaving the horizon. He's not even bothering to look at me, just stands there, holding the door. I'm thinkin
Brielle's POV โWhat's going to happen?โ I ask. A simple query, yet one that stirs my heart to frantic rhythms. A faint sneer ghosts Andrei's lips as opens the car and steps out into the night air. I follow suit, Why? Because I'm dying to know what's gonna happen. The glint in his beautiful brown eyes is unmistakable, as mischievous as a raccoon raiding a trashcan, โA war is coming, Brielle. A category 15 hurricane that's gonna rip our families apart. We're talking Corleones vs. Tattaglias, but instead of just guns and money, it's gonna be secrets and lies that kill us. You know how Tony Soprano's crew thought they were above the law? Yeah, our families are about to take that to a whole new level. You ready for that?โ I respond in kind, my tone tart with annoyance, while fighting the impulse to shake some sense into him." Are we reenacting The Godfather or something? Is someone gonna wake up with a severed horse head in their bed?โ My eyes narrow, daring him to feed me anot
Andrei's POV Canโt bear to see Brielle cry. It tears me up inside when sheโs hurting, and I donโt know what to call that feeling. It's something profound. Something so much stronger than just basic empathy or sympathy. I'd take a beating any day over seeing her hurt. โIf you're willing to spend the rest of your life behind bars, Andrei, then you'd better have a plan for how I'm supposed to move on without you. How do I live without you by my side? You'd better have an answer because otherwise, I won't let you take that step.โ โJail for life? You're jumping to conclusions.โ She shoots me an incredulous look. โAre you seriously gaslighting me again?โ I laugh, the sound a little rough around the edges. "I'm talking forever with you, Brielle โ but not the kind that involves parole officers or therapists' couches." Her head cants to one side, Her gaze skewers me, a sharp, pointed thing that demands an answer. โAndrei, do you honestly believe that talking to someone about our
Brielle's POV. Andreiโs sweatpants could have fit two of meโand the kitchen sink. Heโs a big guy, but these pants were made for a grizzly bear on a beer bender. If I didnโt cinch the drawstrings tight enough, Iโd be wading in a sea of fabric, wearing a tent masquerading as sweatpants. Iโm 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 Iโm parched, and partly to cover up the fit of giggles thatโs about to erupt from my lungs โYou okay, chef?โ I ask, trying to keep a straight face as I watch him fumble with the spatula. โYeah, sure Brielle.โ He scratches his forehead, and I can practically see the sweat beading up. Poor baby's never looked so stressed. โSure you've totally got this, Andrei?โ 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
Brielle's POV. Drying soap bubbles speckle Andrei's hands as he meets my eyes, โWhat's so fascinating?โ โIt's your charm, Mr. Carter, that's got me in a stare.โ His mouth curves into a sly, upward tilt, โYou're not so bad yourself. Maybe we can stare at each other for a while and see who cracks first.โ 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. โWhy no shoes, Mr. Carter?โ โWalking barefoot is like a yoga practice. Builds up the balance, strengthens the soles, and gets you in touch with Mother Earth.โ 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 My heart stutters, โWhat?โ 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, โshe's been tapping her foot impatiently. Shall we give the poor thing some attention?โ Nodding, I swallow my regret. Why didn't I just say something? โI'm intrigued, Brielle. This demure side of you isโฆ unexpected.โ 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 โ super luxurious. I stand back, curious about what Andrei's searching for. My nerves are still on edge, which isโฆ ridiculous. โGuess, I'll coax them out of you. Every last one.โ My curiosity spikes, โHow?โ โAll in good time. Shall we get you into something a bit moreโฆ refined?โ The robe he hands me is a stunner โ bold red, V-neck, and flowing long sleeves, all accented perfectly with
Brielle's POV He gives my earlobe a sneaky little nibble. Damn, if that doesn't stir up something inside me, โWhy rush when the journey is half the fun, hmm? We've got lines to run, not lips to lock.โ So glad Andrei's here to suck the fun out ofโฆ 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. โWhat?โ he asks, that infuriatingly smug smirk still slapped across his face. I purse my lips, cross my arms, โYou're really asking 'what'? Like you don't know exactly what you're doing?โ Andrei whips out a sheaf of papers from his back pocket, "Shall we begin?โ I narrow my eyes, โYou expect me to jump right into this after all your little games?โ He chuckles, shrugging one shoulder in a charmingly nonchalant gesture. โIt's all part of the rehearsal.โ โPart of the rehearsal, huh?โ I retort, โSo that little earlobe nibbling number was in the script? I must have missed that memo.โ He laughs," I figure
Brielle's POV โI'd taken his crap before, no problem. He'd kick my ass, I'd take it. But watch him hurt a three-year-old?โ 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 whateverโs 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, โWhat happened next?โ โI 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 poppingโฆ Killing Archibald wasn't the plan. Just wanted to put the fear of God into himโฆ In a wild twist, he managed to grab a blade andโฆ Carved himself a nasty gash.โ Andrei scrapes his thumb along the side of his neck, โThis is where he sliced himself. Fucker cried assault. Tried to put me away for attempted murder.โ โAnd Helen?โ โWas locked up a
Brielle's POV Final chapter. โFine,โ 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. โI'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, Andreiโฆ you're too little, too late. The police are already en route, and they're coming for you, not me.โ I take a deep breath, my eyes burning with determination. โNo way, Jeremy. I won't let you pin Jamie's murder on Andrei. He's innocent." He narrows his gaze at me, โYou know, for a hostage, you're awfully opinionated.โ 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 โJust trying to appreciate the finer things in life, Andrei. Like that fine-ass butt.โ I admit feeling my face heat up. He chuckles, clearly enjoying my unabashed admiration, โthat'sโฆ Probably the most creative compliment I ever heard and the way yours fills out that robe is criminal, Brielle.โ I suppress the urge to turn around. This mutual butt appreciation is getting ridiculous โ 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 โ literally. Just when the silence is about to get deafening, Andrei breaks it with a casual suggestion, โyou should shower first.โ My mind whirs. Iโm thinking, Geez, how do I break this news to him without making it super awkward?โ The last thing I want is to be standing there, naked, with no clothes to put on, while he just stares at me like Iโve 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, โOkay, up you go.โ They say โthereโs a first time for everythingโ, and today Iโm getting my inaugural piggyback rideโ. 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. โComfortable?โ He asks. โMhm, perfect.โ Our journey begins with a trio of solid thuds, Andreiโs feet hitting the floorboards of the pavilion as he descends. The night air is refreshingly still and quietโฆ 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, โHow many white lies have you told?โ โOne.โ He pulls back, โThink again.โ 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. โTwo lies, babyโ he purrs. โThe first, when you said you never fucked yourself.โ His words ignite a thrill that courses through my body, culminating in a sweet ache between my legs. โAnd the second when you denied ever having fantasies. Now, are you ready to confess them to meโฆ and be rewarded?โ His grip on my hand slackens, freeing my fingers to roam. Heโs 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 โI'd taken his crap before, no problem. He'd kick my ass, I'd take it. But watch him hurt a three-year-old?โ 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 whateverโs 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, โWhat happened next?โ โI 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 poppingโฆ Killing Archibald wasn't the plan. Just wanted to put the fear of God into himโฆ In a wild twist, he managed to grab a blade andโฆ Carved himself a nasty gash.โ Andrei scrapes his thumb along the side of his neck, โThis is where he sliced himself. Fucker cried assault. Tried to put me away for attempted murder.โ โAnd Helen?โ โWas locked up a
Brielle's POV He gives my earlobe a sneaky little nibble. Damn, if that doesn't stir up something inside me, โWhy rush when the journey is half the fun, hmm? We've got lines to run, not lips to lock.โ So glad Andrei's here to suck the fun out ofโฆ 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. โWhat?โ he asks, that infuriatingly smug smirk still slapped across his face. I purse my lips, cross my arms, โYou're really asking 'what'? Like you don't know exactly what you're doing?โ Andrei whips out a sheaf of papers from his back pocket, "Shall we begin?โ I narrow my eyes, โYou expect me to jump right into this after all your little games?โ He chuckles, shrugging one shoulder in a charmingly nonchalant gesture. โIt's all part of the rehearsal.โ โPart of the rehearsal, huh?โ I retort, โSo that little earlobe nibbling number was in the script? I must have missed that memo.โ He laughs," I figure
Brielle's POV My heart stutters, โWhat?โ 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, โshe's been tapping her foot impatiently. Shall we give the poor thing some attention?โ Nodding, I swallow my regret. Why didn't I just say something? โI'm intrigued, Brielle. This demure side of you isโฆ unexpected.โ 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 โ super luxurious. I stand back, curious about what Andrei's searching for. My nerves are still on edge, which isโฆ ridiculous. โGuess, I'll coax them out of you. Every last one.โ My curiosity spikes, โHow?โ โAll in good time. Shall we get you into something a bit moreโฆ refined?โ The robe he hands me is a stunner โ 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, โWhat's so fascinating?โ โIt's your charm, Mr. Carter, that's got me in a stare.โ His mouth curves into a sly, upward tilt, โYou're not so bad yourself. Maybe we can stare at each other for a while and see who cracks first.โ 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. โWhy no shoes, Mr. Carter?โ โWalking barefoot is like a yoga practice. Builds up the balance, strengthens the soles, and gets you in touch with Mother Earth.โ 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. Andreiโs sweatpants could have fit two of meโand the kitchen sink. Heโs a big guy, but these pants were made for a grizzly bear on a beer bender. If I didnโt cinch the drawstrings tight enough, Iโd be wading in a sea of fabric, wearing a tent masquerading as sweatpants. Iโm 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 Iโm parched, and partly to cover up the fit of giggles thatโs about to erupt from my lungs โYou okay, chef?โ I ask, trying to keep a straight face as I watch him fumble with the spatula. โYeah, sure Brielle.โ He scratches his forehead, and I can practically see the sweat beading up. Poor baby's never looked so stressed. โSure you've totally got this, Andrei?โ 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