1
The spring breeze carried a familiar icy chill as Emily Douglas sat at her mahogany desk, staring at the blank screen of her laptop. Her long, silk-pressed black hair fell over her shoulders, framing her caramel skin. She wore her favourite cream-coloured silk robe, the one that made her feel like a glamorous film star, even if she was just battling writer’s block.
Writing was turning out to be harder than she thought. Three half-finished manuscripts cluttered her desktop, mocking her with their incomplete sentences and plot holes. Unlike other writers who meticulously planned their storylines, Emily jumped in head first whenever inspiration struck. It was a strategy that clearly wasn’t working.
“Why did I think writing was a good hobby?” she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes. She was good at a lot of things—running multi-million dollar businesses, managing investments, even running a clandestine organization. But writing? Not so much.
Her family, bless their hearts, had decided they’d spend the weekend at her home. All six of them. She loved them dearly, but they were like an army of chaos. The kind of chaos she didn’t need right now. Well, she and her stepmother barely got along, which was why she rarely spent any time with her dad any more. But her stepbrothers were sweet, all three of them.
She glanced around her bedroom, appreciating the minimalist decor. The lavender walls, the abstract art, the king-sized bed with perfectly arranged pillows—all designed to create a serene retreat from her hectic life.
Emily sighed heavily and abandoned her computer for the closet. Her other property in the secluded mountains of Aldoria Heights wasn’t too far and aside Andre and her lieutenants, no one else knew about it. She could get out of here before her father and Tatiana showed up.
She opened her closet filled with a collection of tailored suits for business, chic comfortable outfits for downtime—she had it all. Emily pulled out her favourite monogrammed travel bag and started tossing clothes into it, each item landing with precision. She was nothing if not organized.
“I should really get an award for organisation,” she mused, smirking at her own efficiency.
Writing and lazing around a bit was what she’d planned to do with her Christmas holiday when she came back into the country three days ago. She had needed a holiday for the longest time, but her return to Braestein wasn’t entirely innocent. She had business to take care of, the kind that she had to be here for and her lieutenants arrived a few days before to put things in motion.
Her businesses were flourishing, and she had earned her place as a top businesswoman in Braestein. Lux Events, her event planning company, catered to the elite, throwing the most luxurious and exclusive events. Highland Holdings managed some of the most sought-after real estate in the country. Stone Law Group provided top-tier legal services, ensuring her public face was as spotless as possible.
But it was the clandestine side of her life that kept her on edge and made her life exciting. Fixing problems for the high and mighty, and maintaining connections in all the important agencies—justice, law enforcement, and the underworld. She was a master of her domain, and her lieutenants—Andre, Dawson, Carla, and Victor—ensured everything ran smoothly. She trusted them with her life, especially Andre who was more her partner than her number 2, but some tasks required her personal touch.
As she packed, she thought about how she became this- Mily Stone. Publicly, she was a successful businesswoman, respected and admired. In the shadows, she operated in the dark underbelly of Braestein’s elite society, ensuring that her underground operations remained hidden. It was a dangerous game, but one she played with finesse.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on her door. She turned to see Kate, her housekeeper, standing hesitantly in the doorway.
“Ma’am, Emma is here,” Kate informed her.
Emily sighed inwardly, she had thought she’d be able to get out of here before any of her siblings showed up. “Thank you, Kate. I’ll be down in a moment.”
Kate nodded and left, closing the door quietly behind her. Emily took a deep breath, trying to bite down her irritation. Emma knew her well enough to know she would try to do this, it was the only reason she’d show up three hours early. Their twin bond was unbreakable, even if their relationship was complicated.
She zipped up her travel bag and took one last look around her room. She could still make it out before her dad and the rest showed up, only now she’d have to settle for Emma tagging along. Emily squared her shoulders and headed downstairs, ready to handle whatever chaos her sister had brought into her meticulously ordered life.
Traci Jackson stood in the marble foyer of Victoria Frankie’s villa, feeling more like a prisoner than her soon-to-be husband. He ran a hand anxiously through his short, coarse black hair, his warm brown eyes fixed on the front door as he waited for Miguel to show up.
When Victoria entered the living room from the kitchen, he tried to ignore her intentionally loud footsteps behind him. She was stunning, with a beauty that could easily be mistaken for angelic if you didn’t know her. But to him and most, she was the devil in disguise. Not only did she use her family’s reputation and wealth to treat everyone else like filth, she also used it to get anything she wanted. He was proof of that.
“Are you just going to stand there like a lost puppy?” Victoria’s voice was cold, her brown eyes devoid of warmth as she sneered at him.
“I’m waiting for my guest as every host does,” Traci replied, his tone equally icy. “He’ll be here any minute, and considering that I haven’t seen him in years, yes.”
Victoria scoffed, crossing her arms. “Of course, you need your friend to hold your hand. I don’t understand why you’ve insisted on this friend being a part of my wedding.”
Traci clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to snap back. Instead, he adjusted the cuffs of his well-fitted brown blazer, trying to maintain his coolness. “Your wedding, because we both know what this is. Let’s not pretend this is anything other than a unfortunate entanglement.”
Victoria’s eyes narrowed. “Remember your place, Traci. If I decide to call this wedding off, very bad things will happen to you! You need this more than I do.”
“Says the socialite who could only get a husband through blackmail,” he retorted.
“What did you just say to me?” Her arms unfolded and fell to her sides as she glared at him.
Before he could respond, the doorbell rang. Traci let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That must be him.”
He walked to the door, opening it to find Miguel standing there with his usual cocky attitude. “Hey man,” Miguel greeted, and they hugged briefly.
He truly could not overstate the relief at the familiar sight of his best friend. Miguel took any chance he got to fly out of the country, and it was quite hard getting him to come back to Braestein for anything.
Miguel paused, silently assessing him. Traci knew Miguel could see right through the facade. They had grown up together, despite their different backgrounds—Miguel with his politician parents and Traci from a not-so-well-to-do family. Their friendship had survived class differences, and Miguel knew him too well to be fooled by this charade.
The sound of footsteps drew their attention. Victoria was now in the foyer, smiling warmly. “I suppose she’s the one who trapped you here,” Miguel said, taking her outstretched hand. “It’s a pleasure, Victoria.”
“Nice meeting you, Miguel. I’ve heard only good things about you,” she replied. “I fixed dinner. Shall I serve it now?”
“No, we’ve got a lot to catch up on. We’ll have dinner when we get back,” Miguel said with one of his phony smiles as he sized Victoria up.
Much to Traci’s surprise, Victoria simply nodded, kissed him on the cheek, and returned to the kitchen. He almost chuckled because she hated being told what to do. She always had to be the one to decide. Yet, Miguel was the exact same way, worse even, especially with women.
“Come on,” Miguel said, and led Traci outside and into his car.
As they settled into the car, Miguel glanced at him sideways. “So, what’s really going on?”
Traci sighed, staring out the window as the car pulled away from the mansion. “It’s complicated, man. For the record, I’m not crazy about her, if that’s what you’re trying to figure out. This is a contract marriage I have no choice in.”
“That makes more sense. It was driving me crazy when you told me you were getting married in a few months to the witch of the west. But a contract marriage? I didn’t even consider that. The worse case scenario was that you knocked her up. This is way worse. Why are you going along with this?”
“Because it’s the only fix for the trouble I’m in,” Traci mused quietly. “A way to do right by my family and keep the peace. I’m sure you know how her family is.”
Miguel clapped a hand on his shoulder. “The Frankies are goons with money, classless too if you ask me. I’m glad you forced my ass back here. You need someone to slap some sense back into you. You cannot do this, not with that bloke!”
“Yeah, well, I was about ready to jump off a bridge,” Traci said, half-joking. “Seriously, though, I appreciate you being here. I needed someone who isn’t afraid to tell me I’m being an idiot.”
Miguel smirked. “You know I live for that.”
They drove in silence for a while, the familiar streets of Silverstone Estate giving way to the more modest areas of the city.
“Recently, I have been wondering if there’s really another way out of this,” Traci mused quietly. “Mr Frankie doesn’t fail to remind me Vicky is his little girl. If anything goes wrong with this wedding, I’m as good as dead, and she makes things so much harder too.”
Miguel’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “There’s always a way out. We just have to find it. And until we do, just hang in there.”
Traci smiled. “I’m trying.”
Miguel nodded, his eyes focused on the road ahead. “Now, let’s get to the closest bar and clear our heads.”
“You will never change.” Traci laughed as he busied himself with the navigation.
