LOGINI
Atty. Garette stridden in wide steps until he was in front of the woman whose eyes were rolling to the sky in disbelief. She finds this arrogant man, insane. He saw her just gotten engaged and here he is again, who seemed to try to pester her again. She could not still forget, what he did to her last night. She looked at him with fiery eyes, lips sealed and arms crossed in her chest.
But the man was never bothered by how the way she looked at him. He advanced his step more toward her until he was just one step away in front of her.
"Why did you want to marry my father?" Atty. Garette grabbed the woman's chin and looked at her with his piercing fiery eyes. He could not fathom until now, why a young and beautiful woman like her would want to marry his father, who aside from being old, he is also tied already in his wheelchair, because of his recent high blood attack that made a stroke out of his body. If not for money, what else could be her reason?
"So, you are Garette, the only son of Raffy?" Her tone was cold just like her icy eyes. She drastically removed his hands from her chin and looked at him, unyielding.
"Yes, and you, who are you, and where the hell my father found you?" Garette's angst against the woman was evident. His eyes were fierce and if a look could kill, the woman might have been dead, seconds ago. He grabbed her chin again and held it tightly.
The woman made a mocking laugh. "It is none of your business Atty. Garette Le Brione. Whatever my motive is, it is my motive, not yours. Meaning Atty. Garette, I have all the right to keep it to myself," she sneered at him.
"Oh really, do you know the so-called beneficial interest of an heir under the law Miss, whoever you are?" Atty. Garette tightened more her hold on her chin and moved his face closer to her. Their lips were just an inch away.
"I don't give a damn about that Attorney. Just let me go." The woman wriggled trying to remove again the hand of Atty. Garette from her chin, but he did not even flinch an inch to give way.
"Was it about my father's wealth? I don't even think you love my father nor think that you married him for sex. You might not be satisfied at all because my father is already crippled. Oh, don't worry, I can be his substitute when you itch," Atty. Garette's every word was insulting that made his stepmom-to-be flared with anger.
The woman's right hand flew and landed on Atty. Garette's left face. For the second time, the woman slapped the mighty and unbeatable lawyer. Yet, the woman seemed unperturbed even when Atty. Garette’s eyes were already glaring with fire.
Atty. Garette's face reddened and his teeth gritted. He crushed her lips with his lips and kissed her in a punishing way while holding her back tight with his other hand. He pulled her closer and let her feel his bulging manhood and even rubbed it on her front.
The woman's eyes grew wide. For the second time, Atty. Garette Le Brione was able to kiss her in the way that no other man did.
IIAs the kiss ended the bride-to-be was completely in shock. She was not able to move and neither muttered a word. She was just there standing looking at Atty. Garette with her wide eyes.
Atty. Garette, drastically let go of her and turned his back. Immediately, he went out of the women's comfort room, leaving his soon-to-be stepmom still in utter disbelief.
"Hey, dude, where did you go?" Atty. Greg asked and then his eyes grew wide after giving Atty. Garette a glance. Thereafter, his shoulders were shaking due to his controlled laughter. He got his handkerchief inside his trousers pocket and handed it to his friend.
"What?" Atty. Garette asked, irritated.
"Wipe your lips, it has lipstick on it." Atty. Greg murmured, still laughing.
"What? Goddamit man, are you serious?" Atty. Garette sneered while grabbing the handkerchief of his friend and wiping his lips with it. He looked at the handkerchief thereafter and so he noticed the red mark on it. He murmured, cursing.
Atty. Greg nodded, giggling now. He has a hint from whom those red lipsticks came from. "I am darn sure you had lipsticks scattered on your lips buddy and your father was looking at you when you entered the reception area."
"Goddamit, stop laughing moron." Atty. Garette elbowed Atty. Greg, who just laughed more. Atty. Paolo and Atty. Hector simultaneously glanced at them with questioning looks on their faces.
Atty. Greg whispered something to their two other buddies and thereafter the trio started to control their laughter while looking at Atty. Garette with mocking eyes. Atty. Garette just gave them a wide eye and gritted his teeth. The three men looked away and tried to stop laughing.
After a while, the bride-to-be returned with a fresh look and glittering eyes. She walked proudly and regally going to her fiance. She even passed by the table where Atty. Garette and his friends were sitting but she did not even glance at them. She continued to walk with her usual self and even gave her groom-to-be a quick peck before she settled herself on the chair beside him, smiling.
"Dude, I wanted to fantasize about your soon-to-be step-mom. She is so hot." Atty. Greg whispered to him while giving the woman a lustful glare.
"Keep your lustful thoughts to your mind dude if you still want to return to Cambridge alive!" Atty. Garette retorted after giving his friend a squinting look. He even elbowed him on his side which made the man squeal.
Just a moment later, the reception host suddenly called on the name of Atty. Garette.
"And now to give his most precious message to the newly engaged couple, I am honored to call on the dashing, most after sought, an unbeatable lawyer in the country; the only son of the groom-to-be, Atty. Garette Le Brione!" the host announced, followed by the clapping of hands of the guests.
His three lawyer friends looked at Atty. Garette at the same time and said. "Dude stand up! Go, go!”
And then Atty. Greg whispered, "Announced to the world how hot you find your Dad's fiancee is."
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







