All Chapters of Champagne And Chaos: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

I woke up to sunlight stabbing me straight in the eyes. Not hotel sunlight. Not the kind filtered through cheap curtains with a complimentary “continental breakfast” waiting downstairs.No. This sunlight poured in through twelve-foot windows framed in velvet drapes. The bed beneath me felt like it had swallowed me whole, the kind of mattress NASA probably tested for astronauts.And the ceiling... dear God... the ceiling had frescoes. Actual frescoes. Cherubs with golden trumpets were blowing judgment day directly at me.I groaned, pulled the covers over my head, and prayed this was still the tequila hangover nightmare.Spoiler: it wasn’t.When I peeked out again, the room was very much real. And enormous. There were gilded mirrors, a fireplace big enough to roast an ox, and double doors that looked like they belonged on a castle. My bridesmaid dress from last night had been dumped unceremoniously over a Louis XIV chair, mascara still crusted on it like war paint.And then I noticed th

The SUV doors slammed around us, men in black pouring out with guns like it was Netflix crime drama night. My lungs shriveled. My seatbelt was suddenly my noose.Laura’s voice cut through the panic like Siri on steroids. “Remain calm, Mrs. Bramhall. Panic reduces survival chances by 73%.”“Oh my God, why would you even say that?!” I squeaked, clutching her arm. “Lie to me, Laura. This is when you’re supposed to lie. You tell me this is a flash mob. A performance art piece. Anything except death on a Tuesday night!”The masked man yanked the back door open. His breath smelled like onions and regret. “Out.”I shook my head violently. “No, thank you. I have a strict policy against being kidnapped on weekdays. Can we reschedule for Saturday?”He grabbed my arm. I shrieked. Laura, annoyingly composed, slid out first like this was an Uber drop-off. “Unhand her,” she said in her flat voice.The guy laughed. Then I screamed louder. Because that’s what you do when someone laughs at your last l

The next morning, I woke up with a plan.Not a good plan.Not a sensible plan.Not even a plan that had survived contact with reality.But it was a plan.Escape.Again.Apparently, nearly getting kidnapped had done absolutely nothing for my survival instincts.If anything, it had made them more stubborn.I opened my eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling.The chandelier glittered above me like it was personally mocking my suffering.Yesterday, I had been worried about getting kidnapped.Today, I was worried about getting out of the mansion.Progress.I rolled out of bed and immediately paused.Something felt different.The silence.The mansion was usually quiet in that ridiculous, expensive way rich people's houses were quiet. The kind of silence that made you feel as though even the furniture had signed a confidentiality agreement.This was different.There was movement outside my bedroom.Footsteps.Two sets.I frowned.I crossed the room and opened the door.A man in a dark suit sto

The problem with discovering that someone had been watching you before you knew you were in danger was that suddenly every harmless moment of your life became suspicious.Every strange car.Every unfamiliar face.Every time Laura appeared five minutes after I changed rooms.Every time Ethan somehow knew where I had been without me remembering telling him.I sat across from Laura in the breakfast room, staring at her as though she had personally invented surveillance.“You're telling me Ethan had people watching me before the kidnapping?”Laura's expression remained perfectly neutral.“I said there was unusual activity around you.”“That is corporate-language for yes.”“It is accurate language.”“Laura.”“Grace.”I narrowed my eyes.She took another sip of coffee.I hated how impossible she was to intimidate. Most people at least blinked when I stared at them with the intensity of a woman considering arson.Laura just drank coffee.“You know what?” I muttered. “Fine. I'll ask him mysel

By the time I reached Ethan's study, I had already decided on three things.One... I wasn't going to tell him what Ruelle and I had been discussing.Two... I wasn't going to let him intimidate me into giving up my investigation.Three... if he asked why I looked suspicious, I was going to blame the croissant.It was the only logical explanation.I stopped outside the study and took a breath.Then I knocked.“Come in.”I opened the door.Ethan was standing near the windows, his phone in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He looked exactly like a man who had spent the morning controlling an empire rather than dealing with a wife who had nearly been kidnapped and a best friend who had arrived prepared to raid his kitchen.His eyes moved over me.Then toward the hallway.“Where's Ruelle?”“Eating.”His eyebrow lifted.“She came here to eat?”“She came here because she's my friend.”“I see.”“You don't.”“I probably don't.”I narrowed my eyes.He gestured toward the chair.“Sit.”