Brielle's POV Marcus's gaze meets mine as I step out of the vehicle, his head inclining slightly in a formal nod. “Ms. Monroe.” “Marcus,” I say, deadpan, and he nods solemnly. It's a ridiculous game we play, but I've grown fond of this little dance, this familiar back-and-forth that never gets old. A realization strikes me, a sudden epiphany that halts my journey to the front door. “Well, isn't this a pickle in a jam jar?” I mutter to myself. “This morning, I strode out of this house on a mission—to become a free woman by sundown. Instead, I’m returning, engaged.” The diamond ring on my finger sparkles. I glance at it, feeling a flutter in my chest. No, I won't take it off. It's a symbol of belonging – to someone who's stolen my heart. I spin around, and there's Marcus, waiting. I don't want to keep him hanging around, so I head inside, trying to be all graceful and stuff. Let's just say I'm feeling delightfully… rumpled. As I swing open the front door, a symphony of sizzles
Last Updated : 2025-01-29 Read more