All Chapters of Divorced, Desired, Dangerous : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

NILAHThe boardroom of the Castellano Group was completely silent now.The emergency lights had been turned off, replaced by the cold afternoon sun cutting through the windows. The scent of chemical smoke from the fire alarm still lingered faintly in the air, but the chaos of the afternoon had vanished.Adrian’s body had been removed from the street level two hours ago, and the federal marshals had finally cleared the building.Darien sat at the head of the long mahogany conference table. His shirt was clean now—his assistant had brought him a fresh one from his private suite—but the dark purple bruise along his jawline and the small white bandage on his lip were sharp reminders of the rooftop.I sat right next to him, my fingers laced tightly through his under the table.My father, Arthur Mariel, sat across from us. For the first time in my entire life, he looked small. His expensive Italian suit looked too big for his shoulders, his silver hair was uncombed, and his hands were shaki

NILAH The heavy white silk of the wedding dress felt cold against my skin. We were locked inside the VIP showroom of Manhattan’s most exclusive bridal boutique on Fifth Avenue. Outside the frosted glass doors, the city was still reeling from the press release that had gone live forty-eight hours ago. The public announcement of our real engagement had shattered high society. Darien sat on the low leather sofa directly across from me. He hadn't stayed in the waiting lounge. He had refused to let me out of his sight from the moment we left the penthouse. "The lace detail along the train is custom-imported, Miss Mariel," the head stylist whispered, her hands shaking slightly as she adjusted the heavy fabric around my waist. She kept her eyes glued to the floor, terrified to look toward the sofa where Darien sat in dark silence. Before I could answer, the heavy glass doors of the private salon clicked open. Victoria Sterling walked in. She was flanked by two other daughters of the ba

DARIENThe private estate on the north shore of Long Island was wrapped in absolute, impenetrable security.Outside the high iron gates, two dozen armed guards stood at thirty-foot intervals along the stone perimeter wall. Blackened SUVs blocked the main driveway, checking every vehicle before letting them pass through. I didn't care that three hundred of the most influential people in North America were currently sitting under a massive glass pavilion on the back lawn, waiting for the ceremony to start.I was wearing a black double-breasted tuxedo, my cuffs pinned with solid platinum links. My jaw was tight. I hadn't slept more than two hours, but the adrenaline running through my chest kept me completely wired."The perimeter is totally clear, boss," Vance said, stopping three feet behind me. "Julian Vance’s cars were spotted near the highway two hours ago, but our detail turned them around at the county line. He didn't push it. He knows if he steps onto this property, he leaves in

DAMIENI didn't answer with words. I shoved my hand into the hair at the back of her head, fisting the thick strands, and crushed my mouth against hers. My tongue thrust past her lips, sliding against hers, tasting the champagne still lingering on her breath. She moaned into my mouth, her fingers tearing at the buttons of my shirt, ripping them open with desperate, frantic tugs."Take it off," she panted against my lips. "Stop talking and take it off."I didn't stop kissing her. I shrugged the shirt off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Her hands immediately found my bare chest, her nails raking down my skin, leaving burning trails in their wake. I groaned into her mouth, my hands sliding down to grip her thighs, lifting her off her feet. Her legs wrapped around my waist instantly, her heels digging into my lower back.I carried her across the wide hardwood floor, not letting her feet touch the ground. The cold air of the suite hit my bare skin, raising goosebumps, but her h

NILAHThe private grand ballroom at the Hôtel de Paris in Monte Carlo was packed with European old money, foreign diplomats, and high-society investors."It's a beautiful piece, isn't it?" a smooth, thick British-Dutch voice spoke right beside my ear. "Though I suppose after marrying Darien Castellano, a simple hundred-thousand-dollar bracelet looks like cheap pocket change to you."I didn't flinch. I slowly turned my head to the right.Julian Vance was standing two feet away from me. He was holding a glass of red wine, wearing a tailored navy velvet tuxedo jacket. His silver-streaked hair was slicked back, and a cold, polite smile rested on his thin lips. His eyes were pale blue, sharp, and completely devoid of warmth."You're standing too close to me, Mr. Vance," I said. My voice was calm, clear, and flat. I didn't step back, and I didn't lower my glass."It's a public charity event, Mrs. Castellano," Julian said, his smile widening slightly, though his eyes remained entirely cold.