Imagine being forced to marry a brooding billionaire to save your family's business. Now imagine he insists on marrying both you AND your sister. That's the reality Aria and Calia face when they say "I do" to Jace Sharpe, a tech titan with a mysterious past and an even more mysterious heart. Sparks fly as these fire and ice sisters navigate a world of high-stakes deals and hidden desires, and a whole load of fuckery. Get ready for a whirlwind romance where passion and betrayal dance on a razor's edge. And what would happen if the price of freedom might be higher than they ever imagined?
View MoreCaila and I followed Clinton down the long, echoing hallways of the huge mansion. The butler walked with a dignified air, pointing out important locations as we passed them."This," Clinton said, gesturing to a large wooden door, "is the library. Mr. Sharpe has an extensive collection should you ever need it."I looked in curiously as we passed, noticing the high shelves of books lining the walls. Down the hall further, Clinton stopped in front of another door. "The kitchen is in here. If you want refreshments at any other time than mealtimes, you can ask for them.Finally, Clinton halted at another corridor leading to a quieter wing of the house. "This wing has been prepared for your arrivals. These are your rooms." He gestured to two doors across from each other.We looked down the hall and I pointed to a third door at the end. "And who does that belong to?" I asked the question I was sure Caila had in mind.Clinton followed my gaze. "That would be Mr. Sharpe's room."My lips thinne
I knew well that if Solomon Sleighman's first daughter, Aria, was handed a knife, she would not show any hesitation before stabbing me with it.But I had my reasons for marrying both sisters. Unconventional, yes. Weird, definitely. But I held all the power here, and they all knew it.The reception was a very low-key affair. We remained, for appearances' sake, but it was plain that the tension was going to break soon. My trophy wife, Caila, stood quietly beside me, polite but her hands clasped nervously in front of her. I looked at her every now and then; I almost felt sorry for the girl. She was fragile, as if she would shatter under all this.I couldn't help but feel a bit insulted, though. The way both sisters seemed abhorrent at the idea of marrying me bruised his my. I was Jace Sharpe, for fuck's sake. Women lined up to be with me. And yet here were these two, acting like I was some repulsive creature.Still, we endured an hour of mingling before I decided enough was enough."We'r
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring up at the ceiling. Two weeks of wedding preparations, legal arrangements, and awkward silences had just blitzed by. The house was abuzz. Caila, Dad and I had all practically managed to ignore the absurdity of this whole situation.Dad had thrown himself into the planning of it all, proudly announcing each and every detail to anyone who would listen. "A grand affair," he kept calling it. "The perfect union for Soleil Vineyards' salvation."Caila, on the other hand, had been quiet. Too quiet.One night, I found my sister on the floor of her room, knees against her chest, head bent. "What's wrong?" I whispered, even though I knew the answer.Caila looked up; her eyes were red from crying. "I thought...I thought it was love, Aria, that a marriage was supposed to be about. Not this. I don't want this.”I knelt beside her, pulling her into a hug. "I know," I whispered. "I'm so sorry, Caila. If I could fix this-""We're stuck," Caila interrupted, her voic
Despite the grand feast before us, the dining room was heavy with tension. Glimmering silver candlesticks reflected warmly in the light of the chandelier, while the soft clinking of cutlery against plates sounded louder than it should have. Caila sat with her hands fidgeting in her lap, glancing at me for some kind of cue or assurance I just didn’t have to give.I sat without it fidgeting, outwardly composed. Years of practice made it easily possible to mask my emotions, but inside, my stomach churned. I didn’t let my awkwardness show, unlike poor Caila whose emotions were painted across her face. I wished she didn’t have to witness whatever shitshow was about to go down. The main courses consisted of pumpkin soup in its velvety feel, a crunchy salad, and finally roasted lamb. Dad swallowed hard, several times in an effort to be jovial and create light conversation."So, Jace," he began awkwardly. "How's life over at Sharpe Techs? I read about the expansion into Europe. Really great
I parked my sleek black sedan in the expansive garage of my family estate, the quiet hum of the engine dissipating as I stepped out. The late afternoon sun bathed the Sleighman property in warm, golden light, casting a nice, earthy scene that did little to lighten my mood. I'd spent hours at the office struggling with plenty challenges at Soliel Vineyards, and my frustration boiled inside me while I looked composed on the outside.Click-clack. The sharp rhythm of my red Louboutins echoed off the tiled floor as I entered through the massive oak front door, a load of paperwork tucked underneath my arm. An aroma of fresh lilies from a nearby vase wafted through the air, an R&B melody humming in the air, pulling my attention toward the parlour.Dad was a stout man, with streaks of silver in his dark hair, hunched over a pile of documents on the vintage mahogany coffee table. His brow was deeply furrowed, and he barely looked up when I entered.By the mini bar, my two-year-younger sister,
I parked my sleek black sedan in the expansive garage of my family estate, the quiet hum of the engine dissipating as I stepped out. The late afternoon sun bathed the Sleighman property in warm, golden light, casting a nice, earthy scene that did little to lighten my mood. I'd spent hours at the office struggling with plenty challenges at Soliel Vineyards, and my frustration boiled inside me while I looked composed on the outside.Click-clack. The sharp rhythm of my red Louboutins echoed off the tiled floor as I entered through the massive oak front door, a load of paperwork tucked underneath my arm. An aroma of fresh lilies from a nearby vase wafted through the air, an R&B melody humming in the air, pulling my attention toward the parlour.Dad was a stout man, with streaks of silver in his dark hair, hunched over a pile of documents on the vintage mahogany coffee table. His brow was deeply furrowed, and he barely looked up when I entered.By the mini bar, my two-year-younger sister, ...
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