ログインBrielle's POV I couldn't take it anymore.When dessert arrived—some elaborate chocolate thing with gold leaf—I pushed back from the table."Excuse me," I said to no one in particular. "I need some air."Mom's eyes narrowed. "Are you feeling alright, sweetheart?""Fine. Just warm."I walked away before she could show her fake concern, weaving through tables toward the back of the ballroom. A server pointed me toward doors that led outside when I asked. The balcony was empty. Thank God.Cold night air hit my face. I gripped the iron railing, breathing deep, trying to settle the chaos spinning through my chest.The city spread out below.I had maybe two minutes of peace.Then footsteps echoed behind me.I didn't need to turn around to know who it was."You followed me," I said, staring at the skyline."Yes."At least he was honest about it.I whirled around. "You orchestrated this whole thing, didn't you? The invitation. The seating arrangements. Another manipulation to corner me some
The music faded. Dante's hand lingered on my lower back for just a second too long before he released me. My skin still burned where he'd touched me, and I hated myself for it."Dinner's being served," he said quietly.I turned away without responding, trying to calm my racing pulse. The brief walk back through the crowd gave me time to rebuild the walls he'd systematically demolished on the dance floor. I focused on breathing, on schooling my expression back into something neutral.Then I reached the assigned table and my stomach dropped.Mom sat between Richard and an empty chair, laughing at something a silver-haired businessman across from her was saying. Her hand rested possessively on Richard's arm. The chair next to her was clearly meant for me.And directly across from it sat Dante.Perfect. Just perfect.I slid into my seat, avoiding eye contact with everyone. A server immediately appeared with champagne and water. I grabbed the water, throat suddenly dry."Brielle!" Mom's vo
Dante's POV The moment I saw her across the ballroom, every coherent thought left my head.Brielle stood near a marble column, champagne flute in hand, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else. The dress she wore was midnight blue, clinging to curves I'd spent weeks trying—and failing—not to think about. Her blonde hair was swept up, exposing the elegant line of her neck, and even from this distance I could see the nervous way she kept scanning the crowd.Looking for me. Or looking to avoid me.Either way, she was thinking about me. I just fucking knew it."Dante, what do you think?" Jerry, one of my father's business associates, gestured emphatically while discussing some construction deal I'd stopped paying attention to five minutes ago."Sounds solid," I said without looking at him. "Have your people send the contracts to my office."Jerry continued talking, oblivious to the fact that I'd checked out of the conversation completely. Francesco, standing to my left, shot me a knowi
Brielle's POV The dress Cassandra picked out was the most expensive thing I'd ever worn. Midnight blue silk that hugged every curve before flowing to the floor, with a neckline that dipped low enough to make me second-guess myself three times before leaving the apartment. She'd insisted, promising it would make me look like I belonged in rooms like these.Standing in the glittering ballroom now, surrounded by chandeliers and people wearing jewelry worth more than my entire net worth, I wasn't sure anything could make me belong here.The venue was ridiculous. All marble columns and gold accents, with floor-to-ceiling windows. A string quartet played something classical in the corner while waiters in crisp white jackets circulated with champagne flutes and hors d'oeuvres I couldn't pronounce.I accepted champagne from a passing waiter mostly to have something to do with my hands.Across the ballroom, I spotted my mom holding court with a cluster of important-looking people. She wore a
Brielle's POV I didn't go back to the table.Instead, I slipped out through the restaurant's side entrance, pulling my phone from my purse to text Mom some excuse about a work emergency. I couldn't sit there another second listening to her casual cruelty dressed up as maternal concern.The afternoon air hit my face. I took a cab back to my workplace, brain buzzing with too many thoughts that refused to arrange themselves into anything coherent.I tried as much as possible to calm down in the cab and the driver kept peeking at me. Did I look say now?"Get it together," I muttered to myself. My mind kept circling back to Mom's words, to the way she'd said them so matter-of-factly through out the drive. Like my inadequacy was simply an objective truth everyone understood.Had Marcus thought the same thing? Was that why he'd found his new woman so appealing—because she was polished and composed where I was messy and emotional?I pulled into the parking garage beneath my building, cuttin
Brielle's POV A text came through while I was in the middle of reviewing mockups for a restaurant rebrand.Mom: Grab lunch with me? 1pm at Marcello's. My treat.I stared at the message, stomach already twisting. Mom didn't do casual lunch invitations. Everything had an agenda, a purpose, a hidden objective I wouldn't see until it was too late.But saying no would only make things worse.Me: Sure. See you there.Her response came immediately.Mom: Wear something nice, darling. It's an upscale place.Of course it was. She was on something big now.Marcello's occupied prime real estate in the financial district, all marble floors and crystal chandeliers and waitstaff who moved like people accustomed to serving the obscenely wealthy.I arrived exactly on time, wearing a cream blouse and black slacks that hopefully met Mom's standards. The hostess greeted me by name before I could introduce myself, leading me through the dining room to a corner table where Mom already sat, looking effortl







