I don’t bother correcting him, just smile back at the woman, letting her read whatever she wants into the silence. She beams at me, her whole face lighting up with genuine warmth, before turning back to Javier and fixing him with a raised brow.“Lucas has a girlfriend?” she says. “When did that happen?”“Recently,” Javier replies, his eyes fixed on me with a look that suggests he’s more interested in studying my reaction than actually answering her question.I offer a polite nod to the woman before making my way over to a nearby table, where I place my laptop and settle into a chair, still within earshot of their conversation. As I power the laptop on, I hear the woman’s voice call over to me.“Would you like some chilaquiles for breakfast, Julie?” she asks. “I just finished making them. Javier didn’t tell me we had company, but thank God Lucas didn’t eat his. He was in a hurry when he came down. You can have his. Paula will make you fat and healthy.”I blink, taken aback. “Oh, right.
I guess I’m the only Julie O’Brien in this house, because Paula and Javier are staring at me, waiting for a response.“Did they say who it was?” I ask.Paula frowns. "They said he’s a process server, here to serve a document to someone named Julie O’Brien. Said the address led them here, but security doesn’t seem to know of a Julie O’Brien on the premises, so they called for confirmation."Process server? Here? For me?There’s something about the way Paula said the last sentence that has me thinking she’s hinting at something mischievous. Telling me I can deny being here. It’s tempting. Really tempting. A process server showing up for me could only mean one thing: bad news. My mind races. How did they find me here? What’s in that envelope? As much as I want to take Paula’s advice and hide, I’m curious."The gate, you say?" I ask, already standing up.Paula nods.I walk, slipping past the table, feeling Javier’s gaze track me the whole way. I open the door, stepping out into the hallwa
I blink, feeling the weight of Maya’s words settle on me. “What? Why would I have to move out?”She doesn’t look up, busy packing her notes, her movements brisk and businesslike. “It’s for your own good,” she says. “If we’re playing by Ryan’s rules, we need to look spotless—inside and out. Living with another man in the middle of divorce proceedings? It’s not a good look, Julie. Not for the judge, not for the court, not for anyone who’s watching.”I sink back in my chair, letting out a sigh that feels like it’s been building all day. “An hour ago, I thought we were just going to have a civil conversation about this. And now we’re here, strategizing like it’s a battlefield.”Maya glances at me, a hint of sympathy in her eyes. “Civil?” She shakes her head. “Julie, this is divorce. Civility is an endangered species.”A bitter laugh escapes my lips, more acidic than I expected, and I realize it’s the first genuine reaction I’ve allowed myself all day. “I’ll…think about it, I guess.”“Thin
~~Luke~~I’m the happiest man alive. Not only has it been forever since I felt this way, this contented with my life choices, but I also feel like redoing it all over again. But this time, the good part would come sooner. This time, when I run into Julie at my bar, where we met, I’d just throw her over my shoulder and take her home.I kiss her lips, tender, taking my time. I want this moment to last forever. Her lips are soft and warm, yielding to my kiss. I can feel the heat radiating from her, the scent of her perfume and the gentle curve of her body beneath me. I trail kisses down her neck, nuzzling the sensitive skin there, feeling her shiver in response.As I continue my descent, my mouth finds its way to the swell of her breasts. I take one nipple, gently sucking and teasing it with my tongue. She arches her back, pushing them further into my mouth, urging me on. I oblige, lavishing attention on her chest, feeling her moans of pleasure vibrate against my lips.“Do you want me
Her gaze meets mine, and the intensity in them makes my heart race. “I thought…” she says. “I thought we could just enjoy this. But you’re right. It is more.”“More?”“Yeah, more. But I’m scared.”“Scared of what?” I ask, brushing my thumb over her cheekbone. “Of feeling too much? Of getting hurt?” “Of it all. I’ve been through so much.”I nod, absorbing her words. I can see the pain lurking just beneath the surface, a shadow that threatens to swallow her whole if she lets it. “Julie, I get that. But you’re not alone in this. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We can take it slow, figure it out together.”“You really mean that?”“Absolutely,” I promise, meaning every word. “But I need you to trust me.”Her breath hitches, and I can feel the weight of the moment hanging between us. “Okay,” she says. “I’ll try.”“Good.” I lean in, brushing my lips against her forehead. “That’s all I ask.”We settle into a comfortable silence. I feel her heartbeat steadying against my chest, and it c
The elevator doors open, and we step inside. I stand rigid, watching the numbers light up as we ascend. I can almost hear the ticking of my watch—the piece of art Julie got me. Each tick is a countdown to the inevitable clash that’s about to unfold. Maybe I’m thinking too much about it. But I know, deep down, that none of this will go down without a fight.Finally, the doors slide open, and there it is—Ryan’s lair, as sleek and manicured as the man himself. It’s filled with too much leather, too much crystal, too much everything. It’s so polished it looks like no one actually works here, like it’s a movie set for what the wealthy imagine an office should look like.Lucy opens the doors and gestures for me and Jerome to step inside. “Please, go right in. They’re expecting you.”I step forward, nodding a terse goodbye to her, but she doesn’t leave. She stands just outside, giving me one last smile before she lets the door close behind me.As Jerome and I step further into the room, I fe
Even before walking into the O’Briens company, I knew our contract termination process wouldn't be smooth sailing. I’d prepared every scenario in my head, ready with a reply. What I’d say when they tried to bully me into staying. What I’d say when they mention Julie’s name, because, of course, Julie must be mentioned. She’s in my house. All the changes she’s gone through these past few weeks have been since she met me. So I knew there’s no way Ryan would let me leave this meeting without making that fact known at least once: that I stole his wife and am now punishing him by pulling the plug on our partnership deal.What I didn’t expect, however, is Adeline politely asking me to stay.When you’re so far along in a battle, any glint of peace takes you by surprise.“I beg your pardon?” I say.Adeline clears her throat. “I tried my best to raise my son to be a good and productive member of society. But sometimes, children don’t always turn out how you want them to. They don’t listen. The
“Good. Because Adeline doesn’t want you to stay. She wants to control you, and this whole thing is her attempt to wrap you around her little finger. The ‘peace offering,’ the adjusted contract… She knows exactly how to make it look like she’s giving you power while keeping you under her thumb.”I look away. He’s right; Adeline’s deal is nothing more than a leash disguised as a lifeline.Jerome lets out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms. “Listen, if you’re serious about walking away from these people, then that’s exactly what you need to do. Don’t let them manipulate you into staying. They want you here for their gain, not yours.”I nod. “But who says we can't have both?”“What do you mean?” he says.Jerome's eyes are narrowed. He's studying my face like he’s searching for cracks. I know he doesn’t trust Adeline, and he’s right not to. But this is bigger than Adeline, bigger than this boardroom, bigger than this deal.“Let me ask you something,” I say, my voice low.“What?”“Have you eve
~~Julie~~ The pain started several hours ago. At first, it was manageable—a dull ache radiating through my lower abdomen. It felt like my body was whispering its warnings. But now, hours later, it’s no whisper. It’s a full-blown scream. Sharp, relentless waves of pain grip me, tightening like a vice around my insides. I’ve been timing the contractions, because the last time this happened, Dr. Casey Patel had sent me home with enough instructions on how to detect real labor. If this isn’t labor, then God help me, because it feels like this baby is about to crawl up my spine and burst out of my chest. I clutch the bannister with one hand and my lower abdomen with the other, pausing halfway down the stairs to catch my breath. Every step feels like a test of endurance, like I’m descending a mountain instead of my own staircase. “Paula!” I shout, hoping the cook will come running. But it isn’t Paula who appears. Instead, Javier rolls into view at the bottom of the stairs, his expressio
~~Julie~~I have to say this: Luke’s family knows how to party. It’s like everyone’s high and energetic. Even the children aren’t left out. It’s one thing to practice a dance, and it’s another to actually use those moves. I’m stumbling, but I don’t care. Because I’m happy. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I can’t keep track of the number of people I’ve danced with. I’ve lost Luke for the hundredth time tonight. The last time I saw him, he was being dragged into a conga line by his mother, who seemed to have the stamina of a teenager. Somewhere between the flashing lights and the sea of bodies spinning and stomping, he’d disappeared again.I stumble slightly in my heels, though at this point they feel more like medieval torture devices. My silver dress—once sleek and elegant—is now sticking to me like a second skin, the fabric damp with sweat from almost an hour of dancing. I brush confetti out of my hair. It’s everywhere—on my shoulders, even stuck to the perspiration on my arms.A
It’s our first dance as a couple, and Julie’s arms are draped around my neck, her warmth melting into mine as we sway to the soft rhythm of the music. Her dress catches the golden glow of the chandeliers, shimmering like something out of a dream. But it’s not the dress or the lights that have me mesmerized—it’s her.Her cheeks are flushed, a shade of pink that makes my heart stutter, and her eyes, those deep, captivating pools, glisten with unshed tears. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but all I can manage is, “You’re beautiful.”Julie’s blush deepens, and she looks away for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “You’ve already said that. Twice.”“Because it’s true.”Around us, everyone is watching.Julie bites her lip, a nervous gesture that only makes her more endearing. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Feeling this… shy?”I chuckle. “Like teenagers on a first date.”“Exactly. The entire room is watching, and I don’t know where to look.”“You’re doing great so far,” I say. “Jus
~~Luke~~I don’t know if it’s appropriate for the groom to cry on his wedding day, but right now, it’s taking my entire self-control not to sob. My throat feels tight, my chest is heavy, and every muscle in my face is fighting. Screw it—who made that rule anyway?Julie is walking toward me. Julie. My Julie. And it feels like the first time all over again—the day I saw her sitting on that barstool, drowning her sorrows in a glass of whiskey. I hadn’t planned to approach her. I was headed toward the fire exit, escaping someone whose face I can’t remember now. But then I saw her, and something in me shifted.Now, here she is, making her way down the aisle, radiant in a dress that looks like it was sewn from clouds and moonlight. My breath catches in my throat, and I wonder if it’s possible to actually combust from sheer awe.Her maid of honor walks beside her, clutching her arm with a steadying hand, but Julie doesn’t need it. She’s poised, her eyes locked on mine.“You’re far gone, man,
~~Julie~~People say all brides are late to their weddings. It’s practically a tradition, isn’t it? But me? I was not going to be one of those brides. I had a plan. I gave myself a generous window—ten, maybe fifteen minutes tops—because, really, what could possibly make me late?The answer, apparently, is everything. Here I am, forty minutes behind schedule, crammed in the backseat of a car with Marissa, my maid of honor, wrestling with my veil like it’s some kind of unruly octopus.“Hold still,” Marissa says, her fingers tangled in the fabric. “You keep moving, and this thing’s going to look like a bird nested in your hair.”“I wouldn’t be moving if we weren’t speeding down the road like we’re in a car chase,” I shoot back, my head jerking as the driver swerves to avoid another car.The blame? It falls squarely on last night’s rehearsal dinner. It felt like the entire world showed up. Luke’s family alone must have taken up half the venue, and their energy? Boundless. How do they eve
~~Ryan O’Brien~~ It’s fifteen minutes before the pre-trial, and Ryan’s car pulls into the courthouse. As Justin, his chauffeur and bodyguard, cuts the ignition, Ryan stares through the tinted window at the swarm of reporters and onlookers gathered outside like vultures, cameras poised for the kill. He can practically hear the click of shutters, the incessant questions ready to pounce, though he hasn’t even stepped out yet. Adeline is beside him, looking as bored as ever. Adeline taps her manicured nails against the leather armrest. She looks as though she’d rather be anywhere else, though Ryan knows better. His mother thrives on drama, especially when she’s not the one under fire. “How long is this circus going to take?” she says. “You didn’t have to come.” Ryan loosens his tie, the knot around his neck nothing compared to the one in his chest. Adeline shrugs. “I had nothing better to do. Besides, someone has to ensure you don’t embarrass the family name more than you already hav
I and Marissa, the vice president of marketing, have formed a new habit of meeting for lunch. It started as casual, a convenience thing—we both needed a break from the relentless grind at Illusionaire. Now, it’s become a ritual. I’m still unsure if this qualifies as friendship, mainly because I don’t know what friendship actually looks like. But Marissa talks a lot, and I love to listen. Her stories have this wild, messy charm, like someone spilling glitter across a chaotic art project.We’re at a cozy little café a few blocks from work, the kind of place that tries too hard to be trendy with its mismatched furniture and aggressively minimalist menu. Marissa is mid-rant about her current boyfriend and her dog, gesturing with a fork that’s dangerously close to flinging her salad across the room.“I swear, Nathan only comes over to spend time with Chubbs.”I choke on my sip of iced tea. “Chubbs?”She nods. “My French bulldog. He’s—how do I put this—larger than life. And I mean larger. T
~~Julie~~We’re at a bridal boutique, and Carolina’s excitement could power a small city. Baby Valeria is strapped to her chest, a tiny, sleeping bundle of calm amidst the chaos her mother is stirring up. Carolina jumps from one gown to the next. Her enthusiasm is contagious, even though I’m already sweating from the sheer force of it.“Isn’t Valeria heavy?” I ask, watching as the baby shifts against her chest. “Are you sure you don’t need a break?”She waves me off. “No. You get used to it. It’s like she isn’t there.”“Oh.”Before I can say anything else, Carolina turns to me. She places a hand on my stomach.“You’re already showing!” she exclaims. “Know the sex yet?”I smile. “No, I was thinking we could work a surprise reveal into the wedding.”“Ohhhh!” she squeals. Her face lights up. “That’s magnificent. The family’s going to go ballistic.”“Careful so you don’t wake her,” I say, nodding toward Valeria, who stirs at the sound of her mother’s excitement.“Don’t worry. When she’s
~~Ryan O’Brien~~The cold splash of water shocks Ryan awake. His head is throbbing, each pulse like a mallet pounding against his skull. He groans, squinting against the morning light. Everywhere is bright. Too bright. It’s like a thousand needles piercing his eyes. His mouth feels dry and cottony. He tries to swallow, but his throat is parched. As he tries to sit up, the room spins. You’d think after two months, he’d get used to this feeling. But it hurts every single time."Aww," he says, clutching his head. "What the hell—""Don’t get up too fast."The voice is sharp, familiar, and unapologetic. He blinks away the fog until his mother’s silhouette sharpens before him. She’s standing tall and imposing, dressed in a cream suit that somehow looks both effortless and intimidating. In one hand, she holds a half-emptied glass of water, the one she’d poured on his face. In the other, two white pills."Don’t tell me you’ve finally decided to kill me," Ryan says."What?”"Poison me."She sn