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i brought a laser to a knife fight

مؤلف: Abigail Dee
last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-07-04 16:07:51
The cellar was too narrow to serve as a main event space, but it could work for a limited tasting with a handful of VIP guests. I noted the safe capacity, ventilation, and a second staircase that appeared to lead into a service passage.

The guest wing had six large suites overlooking the ocean, two smaller rooms for personal staff, and a sitting room with a balcony beautiful enough to make bridesmaids forget they were quietly competing with one another.

Gracie immediately chose one of the suites
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  • The Wrong Bernardi   mean boss

    I opened the fridge and pulled out chicken, cilantro, limes, tomatoes, avocado, cheese, and the leftover arepa dough. Then baby potatoes, sweet corn, and the glass bowl of hogao I’d managed to save from Saba last night before he claimed it as an academic right.“DON’T TOUCH THE LAVA!” Aiden yelled outside.I sliced a tomato. “Don’t touch the lavender, pequeño tyrant,” I muttered.The knife moved quickly over the cutting board. Tomatoes, onions, cilantro. The kitchen slowly went from an arena for bad thoughts to a place I could control. Oil heated in a pan. Garlic went in. The smell rose, soft and sharp, soothing in the way only Colombian food and threats from Mama over the phone could be.I seasoned the chicken with salt, lime, garlic, a little cumin, then laid it in the pan until the hiss filled the kitchen. Through the window, I saw Rhysand holding one of the cones now.Aiden gave a tiny clap.I immediately looked back at the chicken.No.I was not going to stand in my kitchen weari

  • The Wrong Bernardi   i am only protecting the lavender

    We turned onto the street toward my house.A few seconds later, we heard it.BEEP.A tiny horn.I immediately sat up straighter.“No.”BEEP BEEP.Rhysand slowed the car.In front of my house, the driveway had turned into something between Formula One, an expensive daycare, and an unfinished coup.Aiden was in the middle of it all with his red Swiss car.My son had changed out of his preschool uniform into a little white T-shirt, gray shorts, sneakers, and blue sunglasses sitting crooked on his face because one of his ears had apparently decided not to cooperate with fashion. His black fringe fell over his forehead, his cheeks were round and red, and he was standing half inside the red car with one hand raised.Behind him was a small gang he had apparently managed to recruit in less than an hour.A neighbor girl sat on a pink scooter wearing a unicorn helmet, looking extremely serious for someone whose vehicle had glitter on it. A little boy on a balance bike was holding an orange cone

  • The Wrong Bernardi   fatherhood, pending approval

    And in the middle of all of it, there was one thing I couldn’t ignore no matter how many times I tried: the way Rhysand treated Aiden. Not with manufactured sweetness, not with the overdone effort adults usually made when they wanted a little kid to like them. But with something quieter. Steadier.Like yesterday, when Aiden proudly dragged him into a “race briefing” in the driveway, Rhysand actually crouched down and listened to the absurd rules about the “lava line” and the “gelato pit stop” like they were the most serious things in the world. He didn’t even laugh at Aiden to his face; he just nodded, asked one or two small questions, and somehow made Aiden feel like he was commanding the whole operation.That was what made me hesitate. Because I knew his history with women had never been simple, if anything it leaned toward complicated, full of distance, full of things I had no desire to dig into any deeper. But with Aiden... that distance wasn’t there.Just a patience that was stra

  • The Wrong Bernardi   absolutely not, apparently negotiable

    Shit.Because apparently today hadn’t already contained enough criminal gelato, wedding gowns, a kind fiancée, a dinosaur bandage, and an Italian man with enough sexual ability to make a veil catalog feel like a legally sanctioned weapon.“How flat?”He looked confused. “Completely.”“Interesting..”“We noticed what might be a small nail. We can call service.”“How long?”“Maybe forty-five minutes. Could be an hour.”I looked at my heels. Cream leather. Four inches. Made in Italy, ironically enough, because that country kept ruining my life across multiple industries.“I’ll order an Uber.”“You don’t have to.”I turned.Rhysand was already standing beside the Aston Martin with the key in his hand. “I’ll drive you.”“No.”“We live on the same street.”I narrowed my eyes.Rhysand handed the key back to the valet for a moment, walked around to the passenger side of the Aston Martin, then opened the door. “You can stand on the sidewalk until Beverly Hills becomes its own country,” he said

  • The Wrong Bernardi   wealthy civilians and emotional liabilities

    “Ms. Marie, the reception dress is ready for fitting.” One of the seamstresses stepped closer.Gracie turned from the mirror. “Already?”“We’re almost done here,” I said, taking the pin cushion off my wrist for a moment and handing it to the assistant. “The reception dress needs the hem and movement checked. After that, you’re free to go back to being a wealthy civilian.”Gracie stepped down from the platform with the help of two people. “Rhys, don’t leave.”“I just got here.”“Good.” She pointed at him like she had just given an order to a very expensive large dog, then walked toward the door on the other side of the fitting room, holding up the front of her gown. Before disappearing, she looked back at me. “Maya, five minutes?”“I’m here.”“Perfect.”The door closed behind Gracie and three salon staff members.Silence arrived so quickly I could almost hear the expensive fabrics on the racks regretting their career choices.I took the pin cushion back from the small table, fastened i

  • The Wrong Bernardi   the things he carries

    The fitting room door opened.I turned to look and... Rhysand Bernadi walked in wearing a black T-shirt and dark jeans.No suit. No tie. No business armor except his face, which was already enough to make a small bank hand over its vault codes. His hair was neat but not too neat, the front falling slightly over his forehead, just enough to make it look like he had run his fingers through it along with three old sins.The black T-shirt clung to his shoulders and chest in a way that should not have been approved by local law. His jeans were casual, expensive, and far too well-fitted for a man who was supposedly here for his fiancée’s final fitting, not to wreck the wedding planner’s respiratory system.Behind him, a salon staff member looked pale from failing to stop a man who had clearly never been stopped by an unmarked door.“Rhys,” Gracie said, her face immediately lighting up. “You came.”“Of course.” His voice was low and easy, as though his weekend hadn’t just left behind evidenc

  • The Wrong Bernardi   Dawn Found Me Guilty

    Morning arrived far too politely for something that should have come in carrying a fire extinguisher.I woke before the sun was fully up, with pale light slipping through the gap in Rhysand’s suite curtains and falling over my skin like an accusation.For a few seconds, I didn’t move.There were ge

  • The Wrong Bernardi   Bad Boy Kiss Better

    He picked up his whiskey and took a small sip. It’s too easy. Too controlled. I wanted to disturb him. I wanted to make him lose his flat fucking face. I wanted something tonight to be messy, unmanaged, not wrapped in family and money and shame.“I’m not a good man, Maya,” he said quietly.“I know.

  • The Wrong Bernardi   Bad Reputation, Better Smile

    Ricky took my hand and led me through the crowd. A few guests turned to look. Someone called my name. My aunt from Cartagena waved far too enthusiastically.I ignored her.Then I saw Rhysand Bernadi.And the most annoying thing was that Ricky had not been exaggerating.The man stood at the edge of

  • The Wrong Bernardi   Safe Choice

    HawaiiI knew something was going to go wrong the moment Mama started crying when she saw me coming down the stairs.Mama cried like she had just watched her baby being delivered to a royal sacrificial altar, when in reality her baby was wearing a white silk dress with a low-cut back, my great-gran

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