LOGINSarahThe blush creeps from my cheeks all the way down to my chest. I meet the eyes of my friends, unable to form words as I recount the simple sentence he’d written. How do only eight words have me wishing our party was already over and he was making good on his promise?“Is it romantic?” Winnie asks whimsically.My lips rub together coyly. “You could say that.”In one fluid movement, Emma leans forward and snatches the note from my hands. She quickly reads over the note, throwing it back into my lap with a loud groan. “I get hey you up texts and you get shit like this? Not fair,” she whines.Winnie grabs the note from my lap, doing it a lot gentler than our friend just did. Her cheeks get pink immediately as she hands it back, her eyes wide.“That wasn’t for either of you to read,” I murmur, pulling the present into my lap.“I’m glad I did. Next time a man sends me a dick pic as foreplay, I know what I’m missing out on.”I ignore the conversation between the two of them as I pull at
Sarah“Are you sure this looks bridal?” I spin in front of the mirror, catching the eyes of my best friends in the mirror. My hands run down the silk dress, marveling at the way it hugs my curves perfectly, but still leaves a little to the imagination.“You look hot as fuck,” Emma chirps from behind me. She picks up a pair of my red bottoms, raising her eyebrows as she inspects the heel.“I think you look stunning,” Winnie agrees.“Is it chic enough? Formal enough? I didn’t know when Marcus suggested an engagement party that it would be this…elaborate.”Emma hums. “Keep telling yourself that, Mar. You’re marrying into old money; every occasion is an excuse to throw a party.”I grab a pearl studded headband from the armoire in the far closet. I haven’t slept in my bed since the night Marcus and I returned from the business trip, but I’ve been insistent on keeping my closet up here instead of moving all my things in with Marcus. It’s nice to have a space that feels like my own, to have
Christian Gavin is quiet, his eyes closed tightly as he sits on the weathered park bench in Wrightwood Park. His hands are pressed flat together in front of his lips, almost as if he’s lost in deep, silent prayer.We’ve been going over this exact same puzzle for the last three hours. We started over a tense lunch, moved on to a few heavy beers, and now we’re just walking the winding paths of the park near his high-end condo in Lincoln Park. To get his help, I had to completely violate our sacred vow never to share real names—that ironclad wall we built years ago to keep our individual scams entirely separate from each other. Until this afternoon, he’d only ever known Genevieve as “Number Seven” and Julian as “Number Seven’s husband.”But running through all my options with this nightmare of a new development, it was just too damn hard to keep using clinical titles. Especially with a third player—Julian’s relentless ex-wife—crashing into the equation.So now, Gavin knows the whole tru
Sarah“It was good to see you again.” My words come out so quick they sound all jumbled as I stand up from my seat. I give them both an apologetic smile. I was really looking forward to catching up with them, but I’m seconds away from losing Beck’s retreating form in the crowd of diners.“We’ll speak with you later, darling,” Beck’s mom says, giving me a soft smile. I give them one last wave before I rush toward the exit. Beck disappeared in the few seconds it took me to say goodbye to his parents. When I fly out the front doors of the building, I’m disappointed when I don’t see Beck anywhere. My heart thumps in my chest as I look in every direction, trying to find where he went.Fighting past the panic of where he went, worried about how angry he was and him being alone, I pick a direction and search for his body through the throng of people. He’s nowhere in sight. I stop in front of a narrow alleyway, pulling my phone from my handbag in hopes I’ll be able to get ahold of him.I’m a
SarahMarcus’s Parents are seated at a secluded round table in the back corner of the restaurant, bathed in the soft, amber glow of a low-hanging chandelier. Even from a distance, the family resemblance is striking. Arthur Kane possesses the same sharp, aristocratic jawline as Marcus, though his hair is dusted with silver, and his posture carries the heavy, unyielding gravity of a man who has commanded boardrooms for forty years. Beside him sits Eleanor Kane, a woman who looks as though she were sculpted from fine porcelain. Her pearls are flawless, her tailored cream blazer immaculate, and her posture perfectly rigid.As we approach, Arthur looks up first. A sharp, knowing smile cuts across his face. Eleanor’s gaze follows, her eyes instantly dropping to our intertwined hands before sweeping up to take in my outfit, my hair, and my expression.My stomach does a nervous little flip. *Here we go.*“Marcus,” Arthur says, rising to his feet with a powerful presence that mirrors his son's
Sarah“Maybe this isn’t the best idea,” I say in a rush, my words coming out jumbled.Marcus stops in the middle of the sidewalk. His hand tightens around mine as he pulls me through the crowd of people walking, stopping us in a secure nook between two shops. His eyebrows knit together in a frown. “Why are you saying this?”I take a deep breath, wondering if the outfit I’d picked out was a good idea. I’d opted for a jumper I’d got from the shopping spree I’d had with Marcus. It’s a plaid pattern with black and emerald green details. Underneath, I wear a sheer black bodysuit with a high neckline, and I’ve paired it with a long camel colored trench coat to stay warm in the brisk night air. To cover my legs, I chose a pair of sheer black stockings and a pair of kitten heels. I adore everything about the outfit. It’s just now that I’m moments away from coming face to face with my ex’s parents only to tell them I’m now engaged to their other son, it seems weird. How the hell does one dress
GenevieveGenevieve continued the Google search she had started previously, her eyes narrowing as she filtered through potential investment advisers. She had narrowed the list down to four candidates, each one more unappealing than the last until she reached the final entry.First was a man named B
The Uggs on Sarah’s feet were sopping wet, squelching with every step she took through the doors of the small inn. She felt like a wet dog—miserable, shivering, and cold. Every inch of her clothing was saturated, sticking to her skin with a freezing grip that made her teeth chatter as they approach
Marcus“You’re sure the interstate is closed up ahead?” Marcus asked, his voice tight with the effort of keeping the SUV on the road.“Would you like to check yourself?” Sarah seethed.Marcus braved a look at her out of the corner of his eye. She was shaking her phone at him, some traffic app pulle
SarahThe walk to the café was short, barely a block from the main entrance of the office building. Julian stayed a half-step ahead, opening the heavy glass door and stepping aside to let Sarah pass. He didn't say much, just guided her toward a small table in the back corner, away from the midday r







