Ivette was at the bar again. It was the only place she found solace these days. The entire seemed farther away with each glass she took, and it was a small relief for her. A small escape from everything that bore down on her. She was getting married in three days. She laughed. It was a cold and brittle sound. How did she feel about all of it? Sick to the stomach. It brought a lot of things into perspective. Too many things she didn't even want to think about. So she drank, drowning herself, and the sound of the cheers coming from the audience as Aaron was being interviewed. Aaron Maxwell, the soon to be heir and CEO of Maxwell Industries and King Corp, they called him. Ivette laughed again, and the Italian bartender who had become a quick friend wiggled his full and dark eyebrows at her. "Bad day, Senorita?" Ivette blew out a breath and took the bottle of Martini from his right hand and flipped the cork. "You have no idea." "Perhaps, I do." "Are y

"Too heavy?" Ivette looked up from the oversized trophy in her grasp and Cian found himself staring into hollow empty eyes. Her hazel eyes lacked brightness and in its stead, there was only fatigue and resignation. She blinked once, eyes flipping over him swiftly and she raised a lean shoulder before dropping it. "I'm sure yours is heavier." Indeed, his trophy had been a large monstrous thing and he had had no small pleasure handing it over to Rosalind with the nastiest grin on his face. However, that hadn't mattered. He had been watching the lass all afternoon. Not that she had noticed. That was the problem. She hadn't noticed his gaze on her as she'd collected the trophy from the lady presenter. He couldn't tell what was wrong with her and it disturbed him more than he wanted it to. "Heading back so quickly?" He asked, tipping his head toward the door from which music flitted out from. She shrugged. "Dancing is exhausting." He was

“You banged Cian MAcGregor?!” Riley squealed and Ivette rolled on her back, holding the tablet up so her friends could see her well enough. “Annet! You knew about this and you didn’t tell me!” Ann only lifted a brow and withdrew the top of the ball pen she had been biting on from her mouth. “It’s not like you ever tell us about your activities with those Italian men. How’s Franchesca by the way?” Riley’s cheeks flamed. “It’s Francesco and we broke up months ago!” Ann rolled her eyes before staring into the camera with concern. “I assume the wedding date being pushed up stemmed from Aaron’s finding out.” Ivette sighed, nodding. Somehow, five days away from Seattle managed to feel like years. She missed her friends. She missed home. But she dreaded returning now. ”Yeah. He was mad and—I don’t—I can’t get married like this.” “Well, say no. Call it off!” Riley said, but she soon paused, grey eyes clouded with confusion. “But. . .You’ve waited for so long to ti

“You look absolutely stunning!” Riley squealed, playing around with the lacy veil in her hands. Ivette shied away from the brush stained with powder that attacked her cheeks in the most unpleasant manner. Not early as unpleasant as her mood. The makeup artist had enough wits about her to keep the false smile in place, even if Ivette was being irritable. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were off to a funeral,” Amelia said, gripping Ivette’s chin softly, forcing her to look into those hazel eyes that mirrored hers. Ivette dropped her gaze in time to see her mother’s blood red lips move as she whispered, “Smile, Ivy. This is just as important to you as it is your father. I know you’re mad about the merger, but you’ve never been one to think with your heart. So smile. It’ll be over soon. After the wedding, you can vent as much as you want.” Ivette swallowed and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. This was Amelia King. The woman who made sure everyt

Cian sat back in his black Ford, staring at nothing in particular. He had left the lass several minutes ago, but he had been unable to remove himself from her lawn.He wanted to see her one last time, even if it meant seeing her in that dress, getting shipped off to another man.Melancholy had a mighty claim over him in a way he couldn't understand. He couldn't function. He couldn't think. Though, the aircon blasted cool air through its vents, he was sweaty. His hands shook around the steering wheel and he gripped the leather tight enough that it squeaked under his hold. His phone rang somewhere around him and though he knew it was Rosalind calling him to remind him of his flight, he didn't care to take the call.He swallowed hard, willing his raging heart to freeze over, but he had no control over the burning organ anymore. The lass had taken it from him and she didn't even know that.So she probably wouldn't know to return it to him either, because he was losing his mind withou