All Chapters of The Wrong Bernardi: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

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 terrace overlooking the ocean, one hand in the pocket of his black trousers, a short glass in the other filled with something that was very clearly not champagne. He wore a white shirt with the top two buttons undone and a lightweight black jacket that looked like it had been thrown onto his body by an angel with terrible taste in dangerous men. His height made everyone around him look like trial versions. Broad shoulders. Thick black hair, a little messy in the front, as if he had combed it with his fingers and a series of bad financial decisions.His face…Sharp cheekbones. Clean jaw. A mouth that did not look friendly but made you wonder what it would feel like when he stopped talking

Late night, I’m at a beachside club with a glass of tequila in front of my face and a bartender looking at me like I’m an expensive potted plant that had suddenly started smoking.His name was probably Kai. Or Koa. Or something very Hawaiian and very undeserving of being dragged into the Bernadi family’s moral crisis.“Ma’am,” he said carefully, “are you okay?”I lifted my glass. “Fantastic.”He did not look convinced.“I might sleep here,” I said.His face tightened. “At the bar?”“Under the bar, if necessary. I’m flexible tonight.”“Ma’am…”I pointed at him with my glass. “Don’t use that tone. I’m just trying to have fun because my life is currently turning into air-conditioned hell.”He shut his mouth.The club music pulsed softly, not the kind that made people sweat on the dance floor, but enough to make rich couples feel young for three minutes. Low amber light fell across the wooden tables, over the bare shoulders of beautiful women, over the jaws of men with too much confidence

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 gentle kinds of silence. Peaceful kinds of silence. And then there was the silence after you slept with your ex-fiancé’s older brother the night before your wedding, which had been canceled because your ex-fiancé had been caught naked with your ex-fiancé’s older brother’s girlfriend.Complicated, assfuck.Fuck.I stared at the ceiling.Then I turned my head.Rhysand was still asleep beside me.Even asleep, he managed to be irritatingly good at it.His black hair was messy against the pillow, one arm stretched over the sheets, his shoulder bare, his breathing slow and deep. Asleep, his face looked younger. Calmer. Almost kind, if a person happened to be drunk on morning light and did not know t

At ten to eleven, I’m already seated in the Cruz Atelier conference room with my second coffee in hand, my hair neatly brushed, my lipstick resurrected, and the face of a creative director who could make a vendor change an entire floral concept without crying in public.Major progress, considering three hours earlier I had been negotiating with a four-year-old about T-Rex’s constitutional rights.Our conference room overlooked West Hollywood from the second floor, all glass, pale wood, linen samples, neutral-toned mood boards that made rich clients feel calm, and one large vase of white calla lilies I had chosen because they looked expensive and mildly judgmental. Nina sat beside me with an iPad, a black blazer, and the expression of a woman fully prepared to watch me eat someone alive if this meeting wasted my time.Across the table, Gracie Marie’s team sat in a small battle formation.There was a PR director with a sharp bob and a media-trained smile. A lawyer who opened a leather b