All Chapters of The Wrong Bernardi: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

128 Chapters

some crises clash with ivory

“He didn’t break,” I said quietly. “He just… went quiet.”Darren dragged a hand over his face. “Worse.”Kehlani gave a small nod. “Yeah.”I looked at them. “Don’t say yeah like you’re both in an indie film.”“We’re sitting on a beach finding out that our best friend’s son’s biological father, who also happens to be her former one-night disaster and her ex-fiancé’s older brother, is now her wedding client, her neighbor, and possibly her newest emotional sinkhole. This is at least A24.”“I hate you.”“Not right now. You need me.”I sat down in the sand because my body had suddenly grown tired of maintaining the aesthetic of standing. My pants were going to get dirty, but I didn’t care.Kehlani sat beside me without asking. Darren lowered himself onto my other side after making sure the sand wasn’t attacking any particularly expensive part of his pants.For a while, we just sat there.Three adults at the edge of the ocean, with a house behind us holding one chubby little boy asleep in hi

the weekend has been revoked

A few days later, Cruz Atelier received a small gift from hell in the form of a 7:13 a.m. email.The subject line was painfully polite.Additional Private Engagement Dinner Request.I stared at my laptop screen from the kitchen, coffee in one hand and a piece of toast in the other that I still hadn’t taken a bite of because apparently my body recognized administrative danger faster than hunger.Nina appeared on Zoom looking like a woman who had already read the email three times and was now seriously considering a new life as a lavender farmer somewhere without Wi-Fi.“Mrs. Marie wants to add one major event this weekend. Private engagement celebration. Formal dinner. At Casa Valdierra.” Her voice sounded exhausted.I lowered the toast. “This weekend when?”She didn’t answer right away.“Nina.”“Sunday.”I smiled without humor. “Sunday as in five-days-from-now Sunday?”“Four and a half if we’re counting from this exact hour.”“Lovely.”“Preliminary guest count is sixty.”“Preliminary

scope creep

I stopped long enough for my body to make a stupid decision before my brain smacked it with a clipboard.Rhysand turned. His eyes dropped briefly to the folder in my hand, then to my white blazer, before returning to my face. “Ms. de Cruz.”“Mr. Bernadi.” I walked farther into the room. “I see today’s site-meeting dress code is casual billionaire who pretends he doesn’t own three governments.”The corner of his mouth moved. “Only two.”“The third one still in negotiations?”“Pending approval.”I walked over to the large table already set up with the old floor plan, measuring tape, and several linen swatches. “Gracie’s late.”“Photoshoot. She sent three apologetic voice notes.”“Her mother sent three additional documents with no apology. Genetics aren’t always fair.”Rhysand picked up one of the documents from the table and handed it to me. Our fingers didn’t touch.Technically.Almost touching still counted according to my body, which had apparently taken a second job auditing minor s

i like that you never pretend

I wanted to throw the stylus.I restrained myself because my white blazer wasn’t made for petty violence. It was made for legal violence.When I opened the folder of linen samples, something small slipped out from between my notebook and cable pouch.It skidded across the floor with a soft click and stopped near Rhysand’s shoe.A tiny dark blue car.Rhysand looked down, then bent to pick it up.His large hand closed around the little thing with a carefulness that made something in my chest shift before I could tell it to behave.“This,” he said quietly, “is not part of the mood board.”I held out my hand. “Give it to me.”He didn’t.His eyes were still on the tiny car. His thumb brushed over the front wheel and spun it slightly. The wheel made a faint little sound.“Emergency backup?” he asked.“I live with a little boy. Every object in my house has a reasonable chance of ending up in my bag without permission.”“Does he always carry vehicles everywhere?”“Not always.”Rhysand raised

dinner, technically

Lorenzo came in two minutes later carrying a tablet. “Mrs. Marie is ready,” he said.Gracie immediately made a face that made me feel sorry for her for exactly half a second.Only half.I didn’t have enough compassion in stock for a family that had just raised my blood pressure with a formal Sunday dinner.“Okay,” she said, tucking her blonde hair behind one ear. “She said it’ll be quick.”I looked at her.Gracie looked back at me, then winced. “I know.”The tablet lit up.Mrs. Marie appeared on-screen with a perfect bob, a white blazer, pearls at her throat, and the smile of a woman who always sounded like she was inviting you to a charity luncheon while secretly carrying a tiny knife designed specifically for cutting into other people’s control.Behind her was a cream sitting room, white flowers, and an assistant who looked like she had recently finished crying in a professional capacity.“Gracie, darling.” Her eyes moved to me. “Maya. Rhysand.”Interesting order.Rhysand stood besi

the unpaid therapy package

For the first time since her face appeared on-screen, she looked like someone had just shut a door directly in front of the family pearls.“This is a dinner celebrating your engagement,” she said.“At my property,” Rhysand said. “With my security. With my investors. For a family you do not represent.”I held my breath.Mrs. Marie smiled again. Colder this time. “I understand.”No, she didn’t. She was mentally circling a target to hate later.“Good.” I jumped in before Gracie had to patch up a cold war with a model smile. “Then we’ll divide the guests into three categories. Marie family and business guests, Bernadi protocol guests, and neutral buffer guests. I’ll create a seating plan that makes everyone feel important without putting anyone close enough to remember failed mergers, cousin divorces, or Monaco rumors.”Rhysand looked at me.I pretended not to notice. “Guest count,” I continued, “is locked at seventy-eight for the seated dinner. Everyone else can rotate through the aperit

air

xFor the first time since her face appeared on-screen, she looked like someone had just shut a door directly in front of the family pearls.“This is a dinner celebrating your engagement,” she said.“At my property,” Rhysand said. “With my security. With my investors. For a family you do not represent.”I held my breath.Mrs. Marie smiled again. Colder this time. “I understand.”No, she didn’t. She was mentally circling a target to hate later.“Good.” I jumped in before Gracie had to patch up a cold war with a model smile. “Then we’ll divide the guests into three categories. Marie family and business guests, Bernadi protocol guests, and neutral buffer guests. I’ll create a seating plan that makes everyone feel important without putting anyone close enough to remember failed mergers, cousin divorces, or Monaco rumors.”Rhysand looked at me.I pretended not to notice. “Guest count,” I continued, “is locked at seventy-eight for the seated dinner. Everyone else can rotate through the aper

mami counts

Dusk settled over my house in a shade of peach far too pretty for a day that had just tried to kill me with a seating chart.I came home from Casa Valdierra with my head full of the number seventy-eight, a champagne tower that was absolutely not happening, and the sound of Rhysand Bernadi’s voice.I sat in the car for two minutes before going inside, not to cry or think, obviously not. I was simply giving my lipstick time to reunite with my dignity.Then I went in.And found my son staging a civil protest on the couch.Aiden sat in the middle of the living room sofa in dinosaur pajamas, one little leg tucked under him while the other dangled dramatically toward the floor. His black bangs fell over his forehead. His cheeks were still chubby, but currently being deployed in an operatic pout. His lower lip stuck out slightly. His eyes were blue, huge, and full of accusation, like I had just sold all his toys to buy tax software.There was an iPad in his hands.Papa’s face filled almost t

the broccoli threat

Aiden let out a huge sigh. “Everybody’s mean.”I turned the heat down, then walked into the living room with the spatula still in my hand. Aiden immediately looked at it, then at my face, then at the iPad, like he was calculating the current threat level.I crouched down in front of the sofa.He lowered the iPad a little.His cheeks were still round. His black bangs had fallen into his eyes. His mouth was still set in a pout, but it was already starting to wobble because he knew this position.Serious Mami position.“Corazón,” I said, quieter now, “you’ve already had a lot of ice cream today.”“I know.”“If you have more, your stomach is going to hurt.”“My stomach is strong.”“Your stomach lost to one tiny piece of broccoli earlier.”“It didn’t lose. It was a negotiation.”“Elma?”“Broccoli won,” Elma answered from the chair.Aiden looked deeply offended. “Elmo.”“Medical fact.”“She’s not a doctor.”“No, but she was an eyewitness.”“Maya, don’t be too hard on him,” Mama said from th

love notices, danger watches

I cut the chicken, stirred the pan, then grabbed the yogurt from the fridge. Behind me, Aiden climbed down from the sofa and made his way toward the island with a slow walk full of fake dignity, hugging the iPad to his chest.Elma followed with her pillow. “No running.”“I’m walking,” Aiden said.“Maya, don’t forget to eat too.” Mama watched me from the screen, her eyes soft even though her mouth was still fully prepared to lecture.“I’m cooking.”“That’s not eating.”“I’ll eat.”“You always say that, and then you stand around with coffee getting mad at emails.”Papa nodded. “Eat, hija.”I looked at both of them through the iPad propped on the island.They were far away, but not really. My house was full of their voices, full of instructions, full of love that had never once bothered knocking before coming in. I used to hate how Mama could tell I hadn’t eaten just from the sound of my voice. Now I did the exact same thing to Aiden and called it parenting.I set the peach yogurt in fro

...

8 9 10 11 12 13

SCAN CODE TO READ ON APP