Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 11 - Chapitre 20

Jordan’s POVCiara Ian. My new campaign manager.She walks out of my office, and the door clicks shut behind her. I keep staring at it and I can't help but wonder if she was serious when she said:"I took the campaign event as an extra job."An extra job?Did that bruise my ego a little? That there are actually people who don't really care about the fate of America or who gets to rule it?She said she's a baker.I can already imagine my father's face when he finds out that I replaced an entire senior campaign team with a woman whose main occupation is baking cakes.I almost smile. He'll have a lot to say about that.But Ciara looks tough.She didn't flinch when I questioned her. She didn't start throwing around impressive political words to make herself sound qualified. She just sat there, answered what I asked and somehow managed to make me even more curious.I'll assign Sonia and Jullian to her.She should be smart enough to pick things up.A small laugh escapes me. Since when did

Celeste’s POV Money really makes the world go round. I’m now interested in the breakdown of Jordan Rogers’ net worth. Two billionaires in his family. He and his father, Jorge Rogers. His mom, Heather, is a multi-millionaire too, and somehow they’re all linked to politics. Politics really has all the money? I thought it was fraud. Damn. I’m already in San Diego, California. Everyone has been up and active since ridiculously early this morning. My fellow campaign teammates and I had our own private jet, and we left Washington as early as six A.M. I’m still not used to saying things like this, private jet, campaign manager, San Diego. Truly, how am I now flying across the country for a presidential campaign? Life is really weird. The convention center we’re using this time is smaller than the one in Texas, but it’s already busy. People are moving chairs around, checking microphones, arranging banners, and going over security details. There are campaign posters everywhere, all car

Celeste's POV San Diego was a success. I still don't know how I managed it, but whatever it was, there was no shooting and screaming, and that's what matters.I hope the rest of the campaign rallies, or anything Rogers-related, stays this way, but with Jordan's worry, he might get attacked again. We just don't know when or where.It's morning, and I'm back in Washington. My mind keeps going straight back to the fountain, with Jordan sitting beside me and the cigarette between his fingers. I picture the exact moment all over again. The way he admitted he didn't know if becoming president was even his dream. Not just anyone would admit that to a stranger. I wouldn't even admit that if I were him.Or aren't I a stranger to him? We've barely known each other for a week. He doesn't even know my real name. I'm literally the worst person for a presidential emotional bond.We sat there until he started looking sleepy, and eventually, we went back inside. I still don't know what to make of t

Jordan’s POVLeah and I step into my office. The moment the door closes behind us, I turn to her. “Leah, you know I don’t have time for your little games.”She wears a smile as she walks over to the couch and sits down, crossing one leg over the other. “Oh, Jordan. You used to love my little games.”I almost laugh. Crazy how I understand the game she’s referring to is in the bedroom, but I’m talking about something much more serious.I sit at the edge of my desk, folding my hands together while keeping my eyes on her. Her blue eyes have always had a way of making people do whatever she wants.“Leah, why are you supporting me?” I ask directly.Her smile twitches, and then she coughs out a small laugh. “I see you don’t trust good gestures.”“I was almost assassinated.” I lean forward slightly. “I don’t trust anyone.”“Why are you acting like you don’t have your suspects on who wanted you gone?” Her eyes darken.That's is. I do have my suspects, and my people are already looking into it,

Celeste’s POVWhat do I want? In that deadly tone? How am I even supposed to speak? I should just hang up.“Ciara? I’m listening to you.” His voice comes through the phone again, lighter than before, but I’m not entirely convinced the man on the other end is the same Jordan Rogers I’ve come to know.I clear my throat. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Rogers." I pause, waiting to see if he'll acknowledge the apology, but I continue regardless. "Concerning all the internet drama, we came up with a solution. You need to be in Texas.”“Texas?” He says it like I’ve just suggested he move to Mars.“Yes, Texas. You need to visit the victims of the rally and their families. Thankfully, no one died, but people were hurt, and I think it would be a good idea for you to reassure them that attending your campaign rallies shouldn’t be something they have to fear.” I pause to catch my breath. “You could also offer financial assistance to the victims. Medical bills, recovery expenses, anything that mig