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NINETY-EIGHT
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2026-08-29 08:20:11
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THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE NINETY-EIGHT
Aria’s POV Dmitri spread a printed layout of the old greenhouse across the study table, corners weighted down with whatever was closest, a coffee mug, a stapler, the small brass key still sitting in its evidence bag beside the map like something none of us wanted to touch again so soon. “It hasn’t been used in years,” Dmitri said. “Structurally, that works against us. Half the glass panels are gone. Sightlines are bad in almost every direction.” “Which means anyone could be watching from outside without us knowing,” Romanov said. “Or already inside,” Dmitri said. “We don’t know how early she’ll get there.” I leaned over the map, tracing the single narrow path leading up to the entrance. “There’s only one way in.” “One way in that we know of,” Romanov said. “Helena helped design half the security around this property. If there’s another way through those hedges, she’d know it before we ever found it ourselves.” That settled over the room heavier than I expected. Every advantage
THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE NINETY-SEVEN
Aria’s POV Dmitri called for a proper search within the hour. Not the quick sweep we’d already done, but a real one, drawers pulled all the way out, mattress lifted, floorboards checked for anything loose. “If she planned this,” he said, “she didn’t plan it perfectly. Nobody does.” Romanov stood near the door for a long moment before finally stepping inside to help. I understood why he hesitated. Every drawer we opened felt like another small betrayal of the woman who used to iron his shirts before school. I started with the writing desk tucked into the corner, its surface bare except for a lamp and a folded newspaper nobody had read in days. The top drawer held nothing but pens and old receipts. The second drawer stuck slightly, and when I finally worked it open, a false bottom shifted beneath my fingers. “Dmitri,” I said. He was beside me in seconds. Under the false panel sat a stack of letters, bound with a plain rubber band, along with a small ledger written in careful, cra
THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE NINETY-SIX
Aria’s POV Neither of us spoke on the drive back to the estate. Romanov kept one hand on the wheel and the other on my knee, like he needed to touch something solid after everything Vivian had just told us. “Someone close,” I said finally. “That’s what she said. Not a stranger.” “I heard her,” Romanov said. “Then who?” He didn’t answer. His jaw worked once, and I understood he was already running through faces in his head, the way I was. Faces that had poured our coffee, driven us places, stood quietly in the corners of rooms while we talked about things we thought were private. Dmitri was waiting in the study when we walked in, three monitors glowing in front of him instead of the usual one. He didn’t look up right away. “I started before you got back,” he said. “Staff records. Security logs. Everyone who’s had access to this house for more than five years.” “How many people is that?” I asked. “Eleven,” Dmitri said. “But only one of them has been here longer than the rest o
THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE NINETY-FIVE
Aria’s POV The address led us to a small apartment building on the quieter edge of the city, unremarkable in every way that mattered, the kind of place designed specifically not to draw attention. Romanov parked across the street, Dmitri positioned discreetly nearby, though I’d insisted on going up alone this time. I stood on the sidewalk a moment longer than necessary, staring up at the third-floor window, trying to reconcile the woman who used to bring shortbread of her own to my mother’s table with whatever version of her waited behind that particular door now. “I’ll wait as long as it takes,” Romanov said. “But Dmitri’s watching the street. If anything feels wrong, he’ll know before either of us does.” “Agreed,” I said, though my hands were shaking as I climbed the narrow stairwell to the third floor. I knocked twice before the door finally opened, and there she stood, older than I remembered, gray threading fully through hair that had once been dark, though her eyes were ex
THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE NINETY-FOUR
Aria’s POV Marguerite’s cottage sat exactly as I remembered it from Ashgrove, small and unassuming, tucked at the edge of town behind a garden gone slightly wild with late-summer growth. Dmitri parked a short distance away, giving us room to approach without announcing our arrival too loudly. The drive here had passed mostly in silence, none of us quite sure what to say after everything Cedar Hollow had already given us. I kept the folded letters pressed carefully against my chest the entire way, as though holding them close might somehow keep my mother’s voice from fading before I understood what it had actually been trying to tell me. “Let me do this alone first,” I said, my hand already on the door handle. “Absolutely not,” Romanov said. “She trusted my mother,” I said. “She might actually talk to me, without an audience making her feel cornered.” Romanov studied me for a long moment, some internal argument working behind his tired eyes before he finally exhaled. “Dmitri sta
THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE NINETY-THREE
Aria’s POV The drive to Cedar Hollow took just under two hours, the pale gray light of dawn breaking slowly over unfamiliar countryside as the paved roads gave way to narrower, quieter ones. Dmitri drove ahead in the lead vehicle, Romeo and Elena following behind us, everyone armed with whatever caution we could manage on top of the urgency driving us forward. I watched the landscape shift outside the window, farmland and scattered trees replacing the estate’s familiar grounds, every mile carrying us further from anything I recognized as safe. My mother had driven this same road, alone, more than once. I couldn’t stop imagining what that must have felt like for her. “There,” Dmitri’s voice crackled over comms as the small house finally came into view, exactly as unremarkable as the photograph had suggested, tucked back from the road behind a stand of overgrown cedar trees. The porch light was still on, though the house itself sat dark and quiet, with no sign of the recent activit
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