MasukI
Thursday afternoon at around five o'clock, the four lawyer hunks were all ready for the engagement party of Atty. Garette's father. Atty. Greg offered to use their family's private jet. So, they traveled by jet going to Texas, the place where Atty. Garette’s father had stayed more rather than in Cambridge. They landed at the heliport inside the wide dairy farm and cattle ranch of Atty. Garette's father. Attorneys Greg, Paolo, and Hector were amazed upon seeing the wide and marvelous dairy farm and cattle ranch of Atty. Garette's father.
"Wow, this is absolutely amazing Brod. We can even have a car race here!" Atty. Greg exclaimed as he surveyed with his rounding eyes the whole wideness of the premises.
Atty. Garette just laughed. "Wait until you see my father's mini-mountain farm full of fruit-bearing trees and vegetables," he said with pride.
"Wowow, I can't wait to see them brod!" Atty. Paolo, who loves mountaineering aside from racing, became suddenly interested when he heard about the mini-mountain farm.
Atty. Garette's father once lived in Cambridge but when he visited Texas, especially his wife's city, the Fort Worth, he decided to stay although still maintaining all his properties in Cambridge. He found his wife's place a very good place for his cattle ranch and dairy farm business.
A Toyota Granvia was already waiting for them when they landed at the cattle ranch's heliport.
"Dude, I guess, I will enjoy it here. Maybe we can stay until Sunday?" Paolo seemed to feel ecstatic about the place.
"Yeah, I will suggest that too actually, I would even suggest a longer period, if not for me and Garette's client meeting on Monday afternoon. Ow, maybe we can return to Cambridge by Monday morning?" Atty. Greg was serious in his suggestion and his three lawyer friends looked at each other. Thereafter, laughter filled the inside of the Toyota Granvia.
"What's funny? Isn't it plausible?" furrowing, Atty. Greg sneered.
"No one will argue. We will return on Monday morning if that's what you want." Atty. Garette was the one who replied while the two in the back seat simply nodded and said simultaneously.
"Agree!"
Atty. Greg grinned widely. "Good. Let us enjoy it for a while here."
As they alighted from the van, they saw a good-looking man in his late sixties, sitting in a wheelchair, waving his hand to them.
It was Atty. Garette's Father, who is called Don Raffy by his staff and/or workers on the farm, has been eagerly waiting for them already at the gate of the Le Brione's mansion.
IIAfter having their sumptuous dinner of mostly seafood dishes, they had coffee on the terrace on the third floor of Le Brione's mansion. The terrace's place is very strategic as standing in its middle would give you a view of the mountainous ranges while on the left side, you will be overwhelmed by the wide array of the cattle ranch.Standing on the right side edge of the terrace, Atty. Garette, spew an air with excitement. He could see their man-made waterfalls like a swimming pool. It is dimly lit but he could see the glittering of falling water and those gazebos with dim lights of different colors. This is one of the attractions also inside their ranch, which he loves to spend time with every time he is on vacation here.
His three friends were busy having their coffee while playing cards. They were playing a lucky 9-card game, which he has no interest in.
"Hey, Garette, come on join us here," Atty. Greg called him but he just waved his hand and shook his head.
Atty. Greg suddenly stood up and approached him.
"Wow, awesome view brod. How about having a night swim there in your waterfalls?" Atty. Greg asked when he saw the view on that side.
"Come on Greg, let us do it tomorrow night. I want to lay my back on the bed now." Atty. Paolo refused as he slowly stood up. He was followed by Atty. Hector.
"Killjoy!" Atty. Greg sneered but followed his friends anyway.
"Garette, how about you?" it was Greg, who asked.
"Just go, I just want to feel more fresh air here," Garette said shooing his friend away.
Left alone on the terrace, Atty. Garette stood still in the same area for a couple of minutes. He just loves watching the cascading water.
After a moment, Atty. Garette furrowed. He saw a figure slowly walking, going to the waterfalls. He could not actually recognize the woman who seemed to be oblivious to her surroundings. She is even wearing a flowing white nightgown.
Furrowing more, Atty. Garette, decided to go down and check who the intruder was. His sister who is staying now in Las Vegas has not arrived yet or most probably will never come because she was against their father's new marriage; so basically, no other woman should be here wandering around, unless that woman was a nymph, a fairy, or a white lady.
He made brisk strides going to the waterfalls with a heaving heartbeat. He did not believe in fairies or white ladies, although according to some stories, their places have such mythical creatures. He blew some air from his lungs, dismissing fear from his mind.
Walking nearby the waterfalls, he saw the silhouette of the mysterious woman standing in a nearby gazebo. Her long, wavy golden hair was being swayed by the cool dancing wind together with the hem of her flowing nightgown.
Slowly without creating any sound, Atty. Garette, stood at the back of the mysterious woman and without any warming embraced her belly with his right arm while putting his left hand on her mouth.
"Who are you?" he whispered in his usual interrogating tone.
The woman wriggled from his grip, and he gave way. She faced her immediately and tried to slap him but Atty. Garette was quick enough to hold her hand.
"You are real?" he asked, amazed while intensely looking at the goddess beauty in front of him. She was like a virgin fairy in her white flowing nightdress and her face, although the place is dimly lit, he could ascertain the mesmerizing yet innocent beauty therein.
"Who are you, woman?" once again he asked as he grabbed her wrist when she tried to run away.
She then intended to slap him again but Atty. Garette did not let her, instead, he pulled her nearer to him, cupped her face, and kissed her punishingly.
When the kiss was finished the woman was able to break free. She slapped Atty. Garette that hard and then ran away.
Atty. Garette was left nearby the gazebo shocked while holding his face slapped by the woman.
Nearby, in one of the nearby gazebos, there was a man's silhouette, sitting in his wheelchair, who witnessed everything that happened.
The night became slow-moving for Atty. Garette. Sleep seemed to have deserted him. He could still imagine the anger that crossed the woman's beautiful face when she slapped him that hard. But what he could not forget more was the soft lips of hers that melted his frozen heart. This is the first night that a woman overwhelmed his mind, making his senses fully alive!
The peace of the manor was shattered not by the gentle rustle of the Texas wind, but by the rhythmic, heavy thrum of a helicopter approaching from the north. The sound was a physical weight, vibrating through the floorboards and rattling the fine crystal in the dining room. It didn't land at the local airfield; it dropped right onto the manor’s manicured lawn with a territorial arrogance, the fierce downdraft scattering Vivienne’s latest silk sketches across the terrace like colorful confetti.Emblazoned on the side of the sleek, midnight-blue aircraft was the silver anchor logo of Miller Global.Sette Miller, the patriarch of the world’s largest shipping empire, stepped off the craft before the blades had even finished their dying spin. He was a man carved out of granite and old-world ruthlessness, a titan who viewed the globe as a series of ports to be conquered. He was followed by a phalanx of security in charcoal suits that made Garette’s detail look like a neighborhood welcoming
The return to the Thorne-Le Brione Manor was unlike any other homecoming the estate had witnessed in its storied, often cold history. This wasn't a victory march or a gala-bound procession; it was a tactical retreat. Following the doctor’s strict orders for absolute bed rest, the sprawling mansion had been converted into a high-end medical sanctuary. The scent of expensive floor wax and old books was now mingled with the crisp, clean aroma of eucalyptus and clinical precision.But Garette wasn't the only one who moved in. To ensure Dianthe had twenty-four-hour care and to make sure the Le Brione business empire didn't skip a single beat, the entire inner circle established a "temporary" headquarters at the manor. The sharks had moved into the lagoon, and they were bringing their laptops, their blueprints, and their egos with them.Life at the manor took on a rhythmic, domestic chaos that would have horrified Garette’s ancestors. Greg remained the vital link to the outside world, coord
The laughter in the library had only just begun to feel like a permanent fixture of the manor when the air suddenly changed. It happened during a particularly spirited debate between Paolo and Amber over a maritime shipping contract. Paolo was in the middle of a dramatic, sweeping gesture, mocking a clause Amber had defended, when Dianthe had been laughing at his theatrics. Then, the sound simply died.Dianthe went pale, the color draining from her face so rapidly it looked as though a ghost had walked through her. Her hand shot out, gripping the edge of the heavy mahogany table until her knuckles turned a stark, waxy white."Dianthe?" Garette was at her side in a heartbeat. The sound of his voice carried a sharp, instinctual fear—a raw, jagged edge that he had never once displayed in a courtroom or a boardroom."I... I think something is wrong, Garette," she whispered. Her breath hitched, coming in shallow, panicked bursts. A sharp, localized pain flared in her abdomen, a hot iron po
The dust from the gala hadn't even settled before Vivienne made her next move, and she wasn't exactly known for doing anything halfway. She wasn't just in Texas for a social call; she was relocating her entire base of operations. But Vivienne Thorne didn’t do solo acts. When she moved, the earth shook, and she usually brought along someone to help record the seismic activity.The next morning, a sleek black SUV purred up the drive of the Thorne-Le Brione Manor. When the door opened, the woman who stepped out didn't just walk—she radiated a frequency of power that made the birds in the oaks stop chirping. Amber Miller was the sole heiress to the Miller Global shipping empire, but she didn’t look like she spent her time on yachts. Dressed in a sharp, minimalist jumpsuit that cost more than a mid-sized sedan, she carried a digital tablet like a tactical weapon. Like Vivienne, Amber had spent years systematically scrubbing her father’s shadow from her professional life, carving out a repu
The air in the grand ballroom was thick with the scent of expensive lilies and the even more expensive perfumes of women who made a hobby of social assassination. Dianthe, guided by Vivienne’s sharp wit and even sharper glares, navigated the remnants of Elena Vance’s socialite circle with a surprising, fluid ease. She moved not like a victim of their gossip, but like a scientist observing a particularly volatile chemical reaction.A drunken, heavily Botoxed matron who is one of Elena Vance’s allies, her silk wrap trailing on the marble floor. She paused, squinting at Dianthe through a haze of gin and entitlement. "Such a shame about that Thorne money," she slurred, her voice carrying just enough to turn heads in the immediate vicinity. "One would think a nurse wouldn’t know how to handle it. It’s like giving a Stradivarius to a street busker."The insult was calculated, designed to draw blood in front of the city’s elite. Before Dianthe could even formulate a polite but firm retort—he
The Crystal Ballroom in Dallas was less of a venue and more of a cathedral dedicated to the gods of light, oil money, and high-stakes excess. Beneath the towering weight of Austrian crystal chandeliers, the air tasted of expensive lilies and the sharp, metallic tang of over-pressed tuxedo shirts. Every name that carried weight in the South—from the old-guard cattle barons to the new-money tech titans—had gathered for the Annual Children’s Medical Foundation Gala. Yet, as the champagne flowed and the string quartet sawed through a polished Vivaldi, it was clear that the charity was merely a polite excuse for a grand display of social theatre.All eyes, whether hidden behind the rims of crystal flutes or the flutter of silk fans, were anchored to the head table. There sat the newly solidified Thorne-Le Brione power couple. They were no longer just two people; they were a sovereign entity, a merger of empires that felt more like a coronation than a marriage.Dianthe moved through the thr







