LOGINNatasha’s POV. Just as I was getting ready for my appointment, Lena’s response came in. I reached for my phone on the dresser. —Skip Spain. Smith said to go full Italian luxury. I told him to add some extra fees… just in case. —Also, I want to move into the penthouse before the winter holidays. Would that be possible?My mind immediately started racing. Would that be possible?They were adding extra fees. Now there was a deadline. Furniture. Home appliances. Logistics. Employees. —Yes. I’d sent the text before I had time to think about what the fuck I’d just done.Her response came in almost immediately. —Alright. Send over the contract and payment details so we can get started. Hold on a minute… I had an actual client. An actual project. Deadline to meet. Decisions I was responsible for. This was truly happening. Tristan stepped into the closet, drying his hair. “I have a job to deliver, Tristan.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “Lena just approved the budget. She sa
Natasha’s POVSo much for not wanting the ultrasound appointment clashing with the project. I’d sent the final plan to Lena and she loved it. We were going to have a video meeting to discuss the budget.How Tristan had handled the HOA situation still amazed me. It took at least thirty to sixty days for approval. He got it done in a day. Not that I was complaining. It made things easier for me. In his words, “Normally, the boards are picky about aesthetics and materials. Yours stood out to them.”With my next appointment tomorrow, I spent the whole of yesterday checking Italian and Spanish furniture websites, just to get an idea of what to tell Lena. I’d fixed my hair for the fifth time in ten minutes, muttering to myself. “Uhm, hi, Lena. Custom items require fifty percent or a hundred percent upfront before they even start cutting the wood.” “Would you just calm down?” Tristan chuckled. “You’ve done the hardest part, which is getting the—”“No,” I cut him off. “Do you know how ex
Natasha’s POVThe past few days had been dedicated to the penthouse project. Since the last time Tristan told me about it, I’d been working through the 3D renderings, adjusting furniture placement, materials, lighting. He showed the penthouse to me. I had two concepts planned. Somehow, I added one more. I couldn’t finish it. I’d been stressing over every detail, trying to make it perfect. I’d also told Rani about the project. We spent most of our time talking about it. Occasionally discussing how it’d elevate my portfolio for future clients.It was overwhelming. But I wanted it. Surprisingly, Tristan didn’t hover around like the overly obsessed husband that he was.With my next ultrasound appointment a few days away, I didn’t want the project clashing with it. Also, Patricia dragged me into Tristan’s birthday preparations every now and then. The birthday was barely a week and some days away. Richard’s team had brought in the wine from Santa Barbara. Everything was moving. Today w
Natasha’s POVIt was in the late afternoon. Mom and I were having a random conversation when Adelina asked for me. Linda led me downstairs and into Adelina’s room. She asked Linda to wait outside. The minute Linda was out of the room, Adelina tried to straighten up. I moved to help her adjust the pillows behind her back, her breathing hitching as she shifted.“Thank you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “How’s the baby treating you so far?”A faint smile crossed my face as I sat on the chair beside her. “It’s still very little, Adelina.”“I know that, child,” she said, chuckling. “I’m just mentioning it because it comes with a lot. The body changes—which is obvious. And the emotions that come with it.”“Oh, that,” I murmured, glancing down at my stomach. “It’s been… great, I guess.”We said nothing for a long moment. “I want to thank you, Natasha,” she finally said. “First of all, for accepting the marriage. I don’t think I’ve thanked you for that. Second of all, for making T
Tristan’s POVRichard and Mariana were still around. Since Linda moved in, Patricia didn’t feel the need to constantly hover around Abuela. Although Natasha still wasn’t okay with the idea of a bodyguard. He’d resumed yesterday. I mean not like either of us had a choice since the Carlos situation. With her appointment a little over a week, I needed her to be safe. And Abuela… A long breath left me. Waiting for a client, I stood in the center of a penthouse on Brickell Avenue, overlooking Biscayne Bay. Floor-to-ceiling glass showed the bay stretching out under a harsh afternoon sun. The unit was empty except for staging furniture—white couches, long dining table. The owner of the penthouse wanted it gone. Every other firm he hired couldn’t close the deal. I needed to shut this myself.The elevator dinged, opening directly into the private foyer. I turned toward it. A man in his early fifties appeared with a young woman not older than twenty-eight… whatever. “Mr. Castillo.” He grin
Natasha’s POV“I never slept with Lucas.” She finally spoke. “I mean I almost did.”“And I’m supposed to believe that?” I asked. “You said it yourself at the gala.”She rubbed her thumb against her palm. “I know what I said.”“It isn’t just about what you said,” I countered. “There were things he shouldn’t have known, but he did. Things you shouldn’t know but you did. For instance, my favorite spot with him.”“About the favorite spot… in my defense, you and Ananya were always loud whenever you two were together,” she said. “But I saw you at the cafe, Victoria,” I said. “Even Lucas said you told him things.”Victoria let out a sigh. “At the gala, I said those things because I knew how much you loved Lucas or whatever his name is.”I blinked. “What?”Victoria shrugged. “Apparently, that’s not his name.”I waited. “Tristan was finally helping with the company,” she went on. “Your marriage to him was the reason why it was happening. And knowing how much you loved Lucas, I didn’t want yo
Natasha’s POV “Hell fucking no! You can’t be serious,” I said. “You really expect me to marry Tristan Castillo? The same Tristan who was rumored to have killed his own parents?” I laughed after I said that, because the whole thing sounded like a bad joke. My father didn’t react immediately. H
Natasha’s POV I woke up to a throbbing headache. My head felt heavy against the pillow. The dull pain reminded me of the whiskey I had insisted on drinking last night. Sunlight pierced through the half-closed blinds of my bedroom. I groaned softly, pressing my palm against my forehead as fragm
Natasha’s POV The music was too loud. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. The pounding bass pulsing through the nightclub drowned my thoughts. On the other hand, the flashing lights and the bodies pressed against each other on the dance floor made everything unbearable. I
Tristan’s POV By the time I stepped into the house, the urgency from the call had already faded. My sister, Patricia, was waiting at the foyer. “She’s been asking for you,” she said. “Her blood pressure spiked earlier, and we tried to calm her down, but she just wouldn’t budge.” I didn’t resp







