My name is Hillary Clarke. I’m twenty-four years old, newly engaged to my Prince Charming, Jake Brown—and I just landed a new job. Jake and I have been together for four years, ever since college, and nothing makes me happier than the fact that he proposed to me a month ago. I wear his ring with pride because I’m obsessed with him, and all I want is to build a family with Jake. We want to move quickly—get married, buy a house, and settle down in Boston within eight months, even though we’re still young. We’ve been working hard and tirelessly to make this happen but dreams don’t come cheap. Jake has a good job, but me? Not so much. Thanks to Jake, I just got a new job… working for his older brother, Bentley Brown. Bentley’s reputation precedes him. He’s arrogant, rude, and full of pride—all because of his devastatingly good looks and the company he started at twelve that made him a billionaire by twenty-seven. But he is hot, charming, intoxicating—and he has this dangerous pull that can drag you straight to your ruin. They call it the Bentley Effect. But would it work on me? I hate my new boss. He gets under my skin… and under my dress too. 2 brothers…1 girl…
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Optimistic—that’s the word that could sum up everything I feel right now. My life is pretty great. I got engaged a month ago, and I proudly wear my boyfriend—I mean, my fiancé’s—ring every day. I’m still not used to it. Jake and I have been dating for four years. The rude, bad boy I had a heated argument with on the very first day of class in my third year in college is now the same man I’m going to marry. It feels like a dream come true. Dragging my suitcases behind me, I step out of the airport and try to flag down a taxi that will take me “home.” Can I even call this place home? Boston feels like an entirely different world compared to Utah. Honestly, if someone showed me pictures of Boston and told me it was New York, I’d probably believe them. The tall buildings, the energy, the aesthetic views—it’s all so beautiful. No wonder Jake wanted us to settle here. Every time Jake and I talked about marriage, he’d mention how he wanted us to build a life in Boston. Now that we’re actually getting married, we’re making it happen. Literally working toward it. Jake has a great job with great pay. Me? Not so much. My last job was wack, and I endured it for two long years. But we want a big wedding, a beautiful house, and a future we can be proud of. Which means we can’t just rely on Jake’s income—I need a job too. I want one. Luckily for me, Jake really is an angel in my life. He got me a position working for his older brother, Bentley Brown. Jake and Bentley aren’t close—for a lot of reasons. In fact, I’ve never even met Bentley. But somehow, Jake reached out to his brother for me, because he loves me. And it’s not just any job—it comes with a free apartment and a great salary. Plus, Bentley is basically Boston’s arrogant billionaire, so this is a huge opportunity I’m grateful for. “Hi,” I wave at the taxi driver. He smiles modestly while I dig through my purse for my phone, pulling up the address I need. The driver glances at the screen, then raises his brows. “What?” I ask. “Nothing. You’re headed to one of the most beautiful penthouses in Massachusetts,” he says with a smile. Penthouse? Fuck. I’ve never even been in one. And now I’m going to live in one? He hands my phone back, then helps load my heavy suitcases into the trunk before I climb into the back seat. My flight had been canceled and rescheduled for reasons I still don’t understand, so now I’m arriving later than expected. I slouch into the car seat, releasing a heavy sigh. Excitement aside, I’m absolutely exhausted. I packed all night, didn’t sleep, and moved my entire life from Utah to Boston. My phone buzzes in my lap. I glance down at the screen. The caller ID flashes Georgia—my best friend. Guilt twists in my chest. I haven’t checked in with her, and worse—I’m still lying about the engagement. I know she’ll yell at me. I consider ignoring it, just like I’ve been ignoring her calls for weeks. But then the driver brakes abruptly, jerking me forward, and my phone slips from my hand. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he apologizes quickly. When I reach for the phone, I hear Georgia’s voice blaring through the speaker. “If you don’t speak right now, I swear I’ll fly all the way from Greece and slap you senseless,” she snaps. My heart pounds as I press the phone to my ear, forcing a chirpy tone. “Hey, Georgia.” “Really, Lary? Really? What is going on?” Her voice is sharp, angry—and she has every right to be. “I know I’ve been avoiding your calls, but I’m sorry. I got a new job, I moved to Boston, and it’s been hectic. I didn’t mean to deliberately ignore you,” I say, biting my nails nervously. “Yeah, of course you didn’t. Anything else you think I should know?” she asks, her tone razor-sharp. “Nothing,” I lie. “Do you know why you think it’s safer to lie to me about marrying that lying, cheating piece of shit? Because deep down, you know he’s an asshole and you deserve better, Lary.” I roll my eyes. Here we go again. Of course she found out. “He apologized, Gia. So many times. He showed me he was sorry. We had a fight—he thought we broke up, he got drunk at a party—” “And then he fucked that stupid girl he calls his best friend. How do we even know he wasn’t sleeping with her the whole time? Jake and Jackie are shady, and you know it. But you keep covering for him. You know why he proposed? Guilt. He wants to lock you down. He knew you’d forgive him and say yes. And guess what? You did.” Her words cut sharp, but she doesn’t stop. “We used to talk every day about our future—how much we wanted men who adored us. You always said you wanted someone like your dad. So why are you settling for cheating Jake Brown? Why—” The call cuts out. I drop my head into my palm, groaning. Georgia has always been like this. Even before Jake cheated, she was suspicious of him. But I know Jake. He would never intentionally hurt me. That night I caught him with Jackie, I thought my whole world ended. But he explained—they were drunk, and we’d had a huge fight days earlier. I didn’t think we were broken up, but he did. And he’s sorry. Georgia doesn’t get it. I can’t just dump Jake for one mistake. I love him. And he loves me. She’s on her honeymoon with her rich, arranged husband. She should understand that I love Jake Brown with every fiber of my being. “We’re here, ma’am,” the driver says, pulling me from my thoughts. I swallow hard, pushing Georgia’s words out of my head as I step out of the car. “Woah.” I freeze at the sight of the magnificent, towering building before me. I get to live here? Wow. I pull my things from the car and stand in front of the building, heart pounding. In a few minutes, I’ll meet Bentley Brown—Boston’s most arrogant, proud, self-absorbed billionaire. And honestly? It scares me a little. But I’ve promised myself I won’t take offense to whatever he throws at me. I’ll deal with my crackhead boss no matter what.HillaryThe willpower it takes me to shut off my alarm and roll out of bed today could lift this entire penthouse. Jake must know how much I love him—and how badly I want to marry him—to put up with all of this.I’ve never had a problem waking up early. In fact, one of the best parts of my mornings back in college and in Utah was running at dawn and grabbing my favorite cup of coffee.But not today. I barely slept four hours. I was up all night working after Ben yelled at me for ruining some documents, and my ankle hurts three times worse than it did on Monday. A deep purple bruise is spreading, but I don’t even care.I drag myself into the bathroom, brush my teeth quickly. Today is Friday—Rhiannon’s last day of coaching me, covering for me, and my first full week completed without crashing out.My self-respect is bruised, but my bank account is glowing.Rhia has been avoiding me ever since I caught her humping her boss a few weeks before her wedding, but honestly, I don’t care. She’s
HillaryThe first time I met Rhiannon was at my interview for this job. Luckily, she was in Utah for business, and we scheduled the meeting. She described Bentley Brown in three words: arrogant, rude, insufferable. She warned me that if I wanted to work with him, I had to absorb his excesses without taking offense.So, for him, I learned three things.Grace under fire—staying calm and professional even when treated poorly.Professional detachment—keeping emotions out of it and focusing on the work.Selective tolerance—knowing someone’s flaws but choosing to overlook them.Even though he was worse than I expected, I kept my head up. Nothing dragged me down. Not even the ankle I almost broke that morning, which still hurt like hell.I was in the passenger seat of my dad’s car when I was thirteen and we crashed. I saw him dying in that seat. That was why being a passenger now gave me so much PTSD.“Are you doing okay?” Rhia asks, walking up to my table.I nod with a smile. “Ben is tough,
Bentley I step out from under the shower, grab a towel, and dry myself off before wrapping it low around my waist. Then I step out of the bathroom into my room—just as my new PA, who also happens to be my brother’s fiancée, steps out of my closet with my outfit dangling from her hand. She freezes. Her eyes widen. Then she gawks at my half-naked state like a creep. “Do you want me to get you a camera so you can take a picture, frame it, and hang it in your room?” I quirk an eyebrow. “I’m sorry,” she blurts quickly, walking over to the bed to drop the suit. “Emm… would you like me to make you coffee? Or tea? Or toast for breakfast? Or would you want me to—” My sigh cuts her off. I already don’t like her. Truth is, I had decided that long before meeting her, and meeting her only validated it. She’s all the things I hate—chatty, clumsy, loud, and full of pointless questions. “Coffee is self-destructive, and breakfast is for people without goals.” She stares at me like I’ve just
Hillary “Hi—um, I’m here for Bentley Brown. I have… this.” I reach into my bag for the envelope I’ve been told to present and hand it to the doorman.The lobby is quiet. Only one person walks out as I come in.The uniformed doorman unfolds the paper and reads it carefully.“Oh… Director Brown mentioned you,” he says, looking up with a smile.I nod, maybe a little too excited for this.“I’m Adam,” he introduces himself, extending his hand.I let go of my suitcase and shake it. “Hillary.”“Okay, Hillary. Take the elevator up to the 30th floor. Someone will be waiting to take you to Director Brown,” Adam says.“Thank you, Adam.” I smile and turn, dragging my suitcase into the elevator.He waves kindly as the doors close.Awww. Such a nice soul.I press the button for the 30th floor and wait nervously. The elevator glides smoothly upward, fast and silent. All of this must cost a fortune.When the doors open, I step into a fluorescent-white hallway. A young man stands by a massive door, a
Hillary Optimistic—that’s the word that could sum up everything I feel right now. My life is pretty great. I got engaged a month ago, and I proudly wear my boyfriend—I mean, my fiancé’s—ring every day. I’m still not used to it. Jake and I have been dating for four years. The rude, bad boy I had a heated argument with on the very first day of class in my third year in college is now the same man I’m going to marry. It feels like a dream come true. Dragging my suitcases behind me, I step out of the airport and try to flag down a taxi that will take me “home.” Can I even call this place home? Boston feels like an entirely different world compared to Utah. Honestly, if someone showed me pictures of Boston and told me it was New York, I’d probably believe them. The tall buildings, the energy, the aesthetic views—it’s all so beautiful. No wonder Jake wanted us to settle here. Every time Jake and I talked about marriage, he’d mention how he wanted us to build a life in Boston. Now th
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