Unforgettable Women. Real men.

Julia

The Sharp Strategist

Analytical • Grounded • Calculated • Unshakable

Julia doesn’t rush into battle. She studies the board, anticipates every move, and positions herself where the outcome becomes inevitable. Calm under pressure and relentless with logic, she proves that strategy is its own kind of power.

— Featured Scene —

She held the photo out in front of her as she studied it before she let it drop to her side and focused on him, her gaze probing for his take on her theory.

“Julia, I–I don’t know what to say.”

Her shoulders slumped slightly.  “You don’t agree.”

“No.  I…” She made several valid points.  He just didn’t know what to say about why she’d done it or how grateful he was that she’d shared it with him.  “What you’re saying makes sense, because I know I didn’t do this.  Someone else did this, but they seem determined to pin it on me.”

She bobbed her head up and down, matter-of-factly.  “A set-up.  I’m certain someone benefits from this.  A business rival, a member of the board who hopes to oust you?”

He clenched his jaw again as she brought up the board.  “Speaking of, they’ve called an emergency meeting to move forward with a vote of no confidence.”

Julia chewed her lower lip.  He imagined her concern. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been that candid with her, but something about her made it easy to open up. The way things were moving, their contract would be bust in a matter of weeks.  She’d never get paid, despite her best efforts to fulfill her end of the bargain. 

“We should start there first, then,” she finally said.  “There has to be some way we can tie together the DA with someone who’s fueling this.  My best guess would be campaign funds.  As a member of public office, he couldn’t accept big gifts from anyone, but his campaign could.”

“We’d need a list of his donors, to see if any names match up.”

“I have it upstairs,” she answered.  “I haven’t had a chance to study it yet.”

His eyebrows shot up as he shot her an impressed glance.  His other wives wouldn’t have been nearly this resourceful.  

“Wow, Julia, I am impressed.”

“Don’t be.  This means nothing unless we can prove it in court.”

It hardly meant nothing, at least not to him.  She shuffled through the papers another time, her forehead pinching again.  

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

“Fingerprint analysis.  If you drove her car to dump the body, your prints would be there unless you wore gloves.  Or wiped the car down, but then no one’s prints would be here.”  She frowned before she flicked the folder closed with a sigh.  “It’s not in there, which is just another reason to think this was a hastily put-together case designed to attack your image.”

He grinned at her, his familiar confidence returning for a minute.  “But I have you to protect my image.”

She chuckled at him.  “I don’t care how wholesome Sierra thinks I look on camera, I can’t protect you from a murder charge without some proof.”

He studied her for a moment, recalling that instant connection he’d felt with her when they’d met.  “Well, I suppose I should look at that donor’s list.”

“Yes.  We can look at it now.  I downloaded it, but I haven’t dug into it yet.”

Grant nodded at her as he slid his arm around her shoulders and guided her to the foyer.  “I’ll have Worthington send dinner upstairs.”  

He hesitated, wondering if she wouldn’t prefer that.  Perhaps he’d overstepped in assuming, but she didn’t seem to mind.  

His mind cut to pondering their next steps, his former analytical edge returning with his newfound ally.  The evening took on a more tranquil ease after the earlier turmoil, but it was soon shattered by the sudden ring of the doorbell.

Worthington whisked his way past them, his eyes lingering on Grant’s hand on Julia’s shoulder before he shot his employer a knowing glance.  Worthington had told him a conversation with Julia would alleviate tension on his part.  As usual, the man was right.  

He swept the doors open as they mounted the stairs.  

A strong voice announced, “New Orleans PD.  We’re here for Grant Harrington.  Is Mr. Harrington at home?”

Grant let his eyes slide closed as he shook his head.  

Julia squeezed his arm, offering him a consoling glance.  “I’ll call Mitchell.  Do you want me to follow you?”

“No,” he said, with a shake of his head.  “I do not want you spending another night in that waiting room.  We’ll talk when I get home.”

“Grant Harrington, you are under arrest for the murder of–”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get this over with.” Grant thrust his wrists forward.  

The arrest was unpleasant, as was the new charge.  And despite its potential to ruin his life, he went into this storm with a slight beam of light.  He glanced back at it as they hauled him from the house.  Could Julia save him?

Olivia

The Loyal Champion

Devoted • Protective • Courageous • Unyielding

Olivia believes loyalty is a promise you keep even when it costs you. She protects the people she loves with quiet determination, standing firm when others would walk away. When something—or someone—matters to her, she refuses to surrender it.

— Featured Scene —

Despite Frank’s explanations, I didn’t believe Ethan was lying in those moments.  I’d read the truth in his face, in his eyes.  I knew he was confessing in what he thought would be his final moments.

“Livvie, sweetheart, please, I can explain,” he started before I could, a tear escaping.  “Please, you can’t take EJ.  He’s every bit my son as if we’d created him.”

“Ethan, you need to calm down–” I started as his heart rate ramped up high enough to turn the numbers red on the screen.  

“Livvie, please.  I need to see EJ.  Please, I’ll do anything to make this up to you.”  He winced as he attempted to sit up and reach for me.  

“Okay, okay,” I said as I skirted the bed and grabbed his hands.  “Ethan, you need to calm down.”

“Livvie, I can’t.  This is killing me.”

I arched an eyebrow at the heart monitor.  “I can see that.”

His jaw clenched as his hands tightened around mine. “I’m not kidding.  Please, give us a chance.  Give me the chance to make this up to you.”  He glanced around me at the door.  “Where is EJ?”

“Easy,” I said as I shook my head.  “EJ is in the waiting room with Eva.  He’s fine.”

“But I can’t see him. Livvie, he means everything to me.  Please,” he said, sobs wracking him as he reached for me again with trembling hands.  

“You can see him.  I’m not keeping him from you.  Ethan, please, you need to take a breath.”

He stared at me, confusion on his features and tears staining his cheeks.  “Livvie…”

I licked my lips, ready to plow into the conversation.  

“I know you heard what I said before I passed out at the warehouse.  And, Olivia, I want this all out in front of us.  I don’t want our marriage to be based on lies.  But I also don’t want to lose you.”

I sucked in a deep breath. “You won’t.”

His features pinched again.  

“Ethan…” I let out a soft chuckle. “I’m still pretty stunned about what you said, about what you did…”

“I only did it because I truly believed we belonged together.  Daniel was terrible for you.”

I pressed my lips together.  “I don’t disagree.”

All of the thoughts that had gone through my head rushed back to me.  All of the times I’d cried over Daniel, all of the times he’d walked away from me, his bitterness toward EJ and me, and finding him in bed with Sarah.  “Daniel and I weren’t well-suited.  Even if you would have never inserted yourself into our marriage, I don’t think we would have made it.”

Ethan swallowed hard as I made the statement, but I wasn’t lying.  A hard look at Daniel’s behavior even before Ethan had shown me that unless I was catering to him, we fought, argued, and didn’t get along.  

When I’d wanted to go on vacation despite saving for a house, we’d had a weeklong argument until I’d given in and agreed stay home.  And every other disagreement before that had gone that way.  

Unless I’d given into Daniel, he made me and my life miserable.  

Ethan’s thumb rubbed the back of my hand.  “Are you going to tell him about EJ?  I will do everything I can to make sure we keep custody of him, Livvie, but…this looks bad.”

“No,” I said with a shake of my head. “I’m not.”

His features registered surprise.

“I know it’s probably awful, but Daniel walked away from this child the moment he thought it wasn’t his.”

As the words left my mouth, I felt a weight settle in my chest. Was I doing the right thing, keeping this secret? I thought about EJ, about the life he had with us, the love that surrounded him. 

Then I imagined telling Daniel, watching him struggle with this knowledge, potentially disrupting EJ’s world.  I imagined his reaction, based on the way he’d behaved during our marriage.  He’d make EJ a possession, something to fight over, something to punish me with.

Images of him returning my baby with chocolate smeared all over this face merely because I’d told him not too much candy, or EJ coming home with a skinned knee on a bike I hadn’t wanted Daniel to purchase danced in my mind.  

“What if he’d have known it was his baby?” Ethan asked. “He may have behaved differently.”

“Maybe,” I answered with a sigh, “but the minute he’d thought EJ wasn’t his baby, he walked away.”  I scoffed.  “Actually, he more like ran away.”

My mind went over the pain I’d felt as he refused to visit me at Ethan’s, the punishment he’d inflicted by practically ignoring me for weeks at a time.  “I asked him…”

My features pinched as I shook my head, fighting back tears. “No, I begged him to be a part of his life, and he refused.  He was so angry about it.  And not just because I’d cheated…no, he was angry because it was with you.”

“Everything that happened,” I continued, “it all revolved around how he disliked you, how you were a threat to him.”

“I agree with you, Olivia.  I know it sounds wrong, but…I did what I did because you deserved so much better than Daniel.    And it’s more than likely he would have treated EJ like a possession, not a child.”

I huffed out a laugh.  “He’s not a bad guy.  But unless you’re playing by Daniel’s rules, he won’t engage with you.  That’s why it didn’t last with Sarah.”

Ethan winced.  “I hate to say this, but I don’t want any more lies between us.  I…may have encouraged Sarah to spend some time with Daniel.  But Livvie, I told her to call it off–or I tried to the day they slept together.  She told me–”

“She wanted Daniel.  I know.  She told me that both before and after.  She actually apologized to me after they ended things.  She said she now understood why I’d divorced him.  And even if she wasn’t after him,” I said with a resigned sigh, “you couldn’t make Daniel sleep with her.  He did that all on his own.”

“But this never would have happened if I hadn’t done all of the things I did.”

“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe it would have taken me a lot longer to realize how unhappy life with Daniel really was.  I don’t know, but it’s over now.” I raised my gaze to him. “I’m not taking EJ away from the only family he’s ever known, from the only man who has ever put him first in his life.”

His features melted as fresh tears sprang to his eyes.  “Livvie, he means everything to me, just like you do.”

“That was painfully obvious once I really considered the life I’ve lived since I moved in with you during my pregnancy.”

“I can give you anything you want, Livvie.  Anything.  If that’s–”

“I’m not talking about the money, Ethan.  I’m talking about everything else.  We…tackled problems together.  You cared what I had to say.  You took it into account…you changed everything just to take care of me and EJ.  Daniel never would have done that.  And you did it knowing full well EJ wasn’t yours.”

“I feel like he’s mine, Livvie.  I really do.  I would never–”

“I know,” I answered, interrupting him again. “Your mother told me about your will, and then I realized we didn’t have a prenup.  I thought maybe that was an oversight, but your mother told me it wasn’t.  That you would do anything to make certain our marriage worked.”

I wiped a tear that had fallen to my cheek away.  “And to be fair, you’ve shown me every day that that is true.  Every day you put me and EJ first in your life.  And I couldn’t ask for a better father or husband.”

“I will spend every day of the rest of my life proving that to you, Olivia.  You have changed me.  And I want our marriage to be based on truth and love going forward.  No more lies, no more manipulation.”

“I want that, too,” I said, my voice raw with emotion as I sniffled, leaning forward to press my forehead against his. 

He cupped my cheek before we shared a soft kiss.  “I love you, Livvie.”

“I love you, too.  I meant that in the warehouse.  I know I haven’t said it before because I just…was still clinging to this idea that I had wronged Daniel, that I didn’t deserve to be happy, and it’s ridiculous.”

Lila

The Tender Heart

Kind • Compassionate • Hopeful • Gentle

Lila leads with kindness in a world that rarely rewards it. Compassion is her instinct, not her weakness, and even after heartbreak she refuses to let the world make her cold. In the end, her quiet strength changes more lives than she ever realizes.

— Featured Scene —

“Are you bailing on me?” 

I narrowed my eyes as I stared into his, noticing what seemed to be hurt or some similar emotion passing through them.  

“Please, Lila,” he said, his voice quieter, almost pleading. “I need your help. You can’t leave me. Not now.” 

His usual confidence wavered, and for the first time, I thought I saw something vulnerable in his eyes.

I bit into my lower lip.  Was that look on his face genuine or was he just really good at getting women to do what he wanted?  My mind flicked to Sable–kind and supportive of her new surprise daughter-in-law.  

Could I look her in the face and tell her that I’d fake married her son?  Even if I could, I didn’t want to.  

It wasn’t so much her approval, I didn’t want to hurt the woman–or to make her think her son would stoop so low as to marry a perfect stranger to save his inheritance.

My eyes slid sideways to my phone.  And I wasn’t certain I was ready to admit this farce to anyone else yet either.  

“Fine,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll stay, but for the record, I don’t think this is wise.”

“Duly noted, which is exactly why we need to talk.” He loosened another button on his shirt before he rubbed the back of his neck.  

“All right,” I said as I collapsed on the bed. “What is it?  More adoring looks?  Maybe a few shoulder rubs?”

“No, but you’re starting to catch on to this,” Miles answered as he plopped down next to me.  “First, you have to stop freaking out every other second and asking for an annulment, okay?”

I screwed up my face, tugging my chin back as I glanced at him.  “Oh, like you don’t!  You and your constant controlling.  Look at me more lovingly.  Act excited, but not too much.  Smile, but don’t.”

“I have to!  I have a lot riding on this, and you’re not exactly fawning all over me.  No wonder Dominic thinks this is fake.”

“Oh, is that what your girlfriends normally do?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” he said, his head bobbing before he shot me that flirty grin again. “Women love me.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I murmured with a shake of my head.  

“Okay, look, just…a few more tender moments would go a long way.  We have to be committed–and look it.  No more trying to bail.  Dominic’s picking up on your nervous vibe.”

I leapt from my seat and paced the floor.  “I just married into one of the most powerful families in the state.  I think nervousness is a natural reaction.”

“But not with me.”  He rose, stopping my ambling as he reached for me, his fingers delicately tracing my skin again. “Because we’re in love.”

I pressed a hand to my forehead.  “I’ll try harder.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “You have been in love before, right?”

I snapped my gaze to him.  “Never mind. That’s not your business.”

“You haven’t?”

I fluttered my eyelashes, heat rising in my cheeks. “Have you?”

He frowned, shrugging.  “Probably.  I don’t know.”

I rolled my eyes at him.  “Okay, well, I’ll do my best to act like I love you.”

Natasha

The Warrior Princess

Bold • Strategic • Fearless • Commanding

Natasha was born into power but refuses to live delicately within it. Strategic, fearless, and unafraid to take action, she meets danger with the confidence of someone who has learned how to win. If a crown must be defended, she’ll do it herself.

— Featured Scene —

I snatched the phone from him, intent on keeping it if I could.  “Nadia?”

“You’re not going to believe this.”

“What is it?” I wondered if she had learned of Nikolai’s plan.  

“Your doctor is in the dungeon.”

I collapsed on the bed, my eyes wide.  My heart fluttered.  Kyle had come to Belvaria?  How?  

It didn’t matter.  He was here.  And it lifted my spirits more than words could say.  

My sister’s voice pulled me back to reality. “What is he doing there?  Get him out of there immediately and bring him to the private office.  We need him now more than ever.  I will explain as soon as we’re together.”

“Yes, of course, I will,” she answered. 

The line clicked, and I held on to the phone for a moment, a smile playing on my lips. 

Kyle was in Belvaria.  How had he followed me?  

I shook my head.  It didn’t matter.  He was here.  

My stomach twisted as I worried that maybe he hadn’t followed me because we had a connection, but I shoved it aside.  It couldn’t be anything else. 

I grinned to myself, my hands tightening around the phone until Stefan yanked it from my hands.  “I believe this should be returned to me.”

Normally, that would have made me frown, but I was on top of the world.  Even Stefan refusing to let me keep the phone couldn’t bring me down.  

“Keep it, Stefan.  Escort me to the private office.”

His features remained stoic, unwavering.  “Mind filling me in?” 

“Of course,” I said, lifting my chin as I grinned.  “It appears Dr. Carter has come to Belvaria.  And just in the nick of time.  We need him to help with Papa.”

“He has not yet been properly vetted,” Stefan informed me.

“I have vetted him. I will handle any of the final details myself.”

“Nyet,” he answered, flinching.  “You will not expose yourself to him until he has been properly vetted by my team.”

I wagged a finger at him. “You do not make the call.  I have already told Nadia to have him brought to the private office.  She said she would.  She must trust him.”

Stefan shook his head.  “So you say.  But we have not confirmed this, and I–“

“Enough!” I shouted, allowing heat to enter my voice.  “He is our best chance to save Papa.  I will go see him now.  If you want to continue your verification, I suggest you do that quickly.”

Ava

THE FEARLESS GUARDIAN

Disciplined • Fierce • Protective • Unbreakable

Ava doesn’t wait for someone else to step in when things go wrong. Trained, disciplined, and fiercely protective, she stands between danger and the people she cares about without hesitation. When a fight is unavoidable, she’s already prepared to finish it.

— Featured Scene —

“How long, Ace?” she asked as she ducked away from another swing.

She didn’t want to deplete her energy too quickly if this person could fight, though, from the wild swings, she doubted they had any formal training.

“A few minutes?” His breathless voice sounded questioning.

“You’re going to have to speed that up,” she answered as she swung around to land a kick against her attacker’s side.

They didn’t need any backup heading their way.

“I’m trying.”

“Try faster,” Chris’s frightened voice said. “Or better yet, switch with her. He’s two times her size.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Alex answered.

“He’s right,” Ava said. “I’m fine.”

The attacker swung again, and she blocked the blow before she landed one of her own. She grabbed hold of his shoulders and slammed him forward into her knee, driving the bridge of his nose into her patella.

A spray of blood spattered the floor as he stumbled backward when she let go.

“Nice hit, Avs,” Alex said.

She narrowed her eyes at the assailant who remained undeterred by the blood staining the mask, raising her hands in the air again in a fight stance.

“Come on, come on!” Chris murmured.

“Almost there. One more to go,” Alex reported.

The attacker barreled toward Ava, knocking into her before she could move and driving her to the ground.

“Get off of her!” Chris shouted.

Ava braced herself before she smashed upward with her hip, throwing him to the side and leaping to her feet.

Her attacker did the same, scrambling up in a low crouch and shifting his weight from side to side.

Chris finally bounded from the chair, free of the bonds that held him.

Alex rose next to him. “Ava, let’s go.”

She backed a few steps away but stopped when it became clear that he intended to rush her again. “Stay back.”

Alex hurried forward, skirting around her to put himself between her and the masked person.

“Alex, get back,” she warned.

Before she could push him behind her, the man lunged forward, landing a blow against Alex’s jaw that sent him reeling. He crashed into Chris, his hand smacking hard against his jaw.

Ava pounced on the assailant, using the distraction Alex had provided to land several hard hits before she leaned into a kick that sent him stumbling back a few steps. Before he could recover, she swept his legs out from under him with a roundhouse kick.

“Let’s go!” she shouted.

Elena

The Regal Leader

Elegant • Confident • Commanding • Poised

Elena commands attention without demanding it. Grace, intelligence, and quiet confidence give her the kind of authority others instinctively follow. Where others see obstacles, she sees the responsibility of leadership—and accepts it without fear.

— Featured Scene —

“We are both alive, though Elena is pouting.”

Her mother, light to her dark, but with matching emerald eyes, crossed to her and stroked her hair, just as she had all those years ago when she’d met her fiance.  “Do not pout, darling.  It will all work out.”

Her mother’s touch was a balm, yet also a reminder of the gentle strength that had long held their family together.  Her mother’s words echoed in her mind.  “Remember, Elena, true strength lies in understanding and compassion, not just in maintaining tradition,” she’d said so often in the past.

Elena focused on those words, using them as a guiding light amidst her turmoil.  “I am not pouting, Mother.  I am understandably upset over the end of my life.”

“Now, that’s hardly the case,” her mother said.  

“If your mother and I felt that way, you would not be here, my darling daughter.”

Elena heaved a sigh.  Her mother and father were a matched pair.  They’d grown to love each other, and they expected her to do the same with a perfect stranger.  “Perhaps that would be better.”

“Elena Sophia Catherine Monclair!” her mother exclaimed, her voice still soft though clearly showing her disapproval.  “What a horrid thing to say!”

Elena chewed her lower lip, the frown still etched in her features.  “I cannot help it, Mother.  I am not living, merely alive.  And I am quite fed up with it.”

She leapt from her chair and stormed from the room.  After slamming the door behind her, she curled her fingers into fists and let out a muffled scream.  She raced down the thick carpet in the middle of the hall past the suits of armor and the coat of arms tying her to the honor and dignity of the Montclairs.

She took the steps two-by-two past the stained glass windows, twisted around on the landing and hurried up to the second floor.  Tears stung her eyes as she hurried to her suite.  She burst inside, raced to the large four-poster bed and flung herself onto it.

A soft, but authoritative voice spoke to her a moment later.  “I take it things did not go as planned, Your Highness?”

“Not quite, Caroline,” she said to the auburn-haired woman in the crisp business suit who had attended her since was a child. 

Her ladies’ maid, Caroline served as best friend and confidante, in addition to attending to her every need.  She offered Elena a tight-lipped smile, clasping her hands in front of her.  

“I do not understand,” Elena said through sobs.  “How can it be so unfair?”

“Your parents were an arranged marriage, Your Highness.  Perhaps it is not as bad as all that?”

“You have met Prince Eric.  It can be.  He is a pompous ass.”

Caroline sniggered at the comment.  “Though not one you cannot handle, Your Highness.”

Elena pouted again as she twisted the silk duvet in her fist.  “I do not wish to handle it.”

Caroline crossed to the antique mahogany vanity and picked up the silver brush.  “Come, let me brush your hair.”

“I do not wish you to brush my hair,” Elena said with a forlorn sob.  

“Don’t you?”

Elena frowned as she tilted her chin down to study Caroline.  She pulled herself from the bed and shuffled to the chair before she plopped into it.  Her fingers traced the delicate crystal of her perfume atomizer as Caroline gently tugged the brush through her long, dark locks.  

“I have never seen you look so defeated.  Where is the fire that lights those emerald eyes.”

“Gone.  Smashed by my father as he set a deadline for this ridiculous marriage to happen.”

“That feisty Elena Montclair spirit smashed?  I don’t believe it.”  Carolina grinned at her through the mirror.  

Elena drummed her fingers against the marble top of the vanity as she flicked her gaze out the open French doors leading to the massive stone balcony.  She narrowed her eyes at the spring blooms on the flowering trees on the rolling green hills.  

“Eldoria is quite a small country, isn’t it, Caroline?”

“Yes, it is.  But still important.”

“I care not of its importance at the moment.”

The brush hesitated before finishing its swipe through her hair.  “You have that far away look that suggests a plan is hatching in that sharp mind of yours.”

“I believe I have formed a plan.  And if it works…” She ripped her gaze from the landscape, centering them on Caroline through the mirror.  “I just may be free.”

Elise

THE RESILIENT SURVIVOR

Enduring • Strong-Willed • Determined • Courageous

Elise has survived the kind of pain that changes a person. Instead of breaking her, it sharpened her resolve to rebuild something stronger. Every step forward is proof that resilience can be more powerful than the past.

— Featured Scene —

I climbed the steps and headed inside, taking the elevator to the third floor and winding my way around to find Conference Room A.  

Someone wandered from inside the open door, leaving me to wonder if a meeting had just ended.  I hoped no one else was lingering in there.

As I approached the door, a tall man stepped out, smashing right into me.  His coffee sloshed, a few drops splashing onto my blouse before he hopped back.  

After a brief but awkward exchange, I realized it was Greg Ramsey who had nearly mowed me down.  I assured him that it was fine, though he seemed quite bothered by the accident as he dabbed at my blouse with his handkerchief.  But there was barely a stain on the fabric.

“Uh, really, I am sorry, though,” Greg murmured. “And I would very much like to pay for the cleaning.”

“It’s really not necessary, Greg.  There’s barely a spot.”

His features knitted, and my brain kicked into overdrive.  Of course hew as confused.  Or maybe I was.

“You are Greg Ramsey, aren’t you?” I checked.

“Yes,” he answered, his voice a slow drawl as his confusion deepened.  

I knew him, but he wouldn’t know me.  And he was probably so caught up in high-powered meetings that he’d completely forgotten who his eleven o’clock was with.  

I poked a finger at myself. “I’m Elise.  Sinclair.  We’re meeting today.”

His features shifted from confused to what almost looked like stunned, swallowing hard.  His eyebrow arched.  “You’re Elise.”

His words came out barely above a whisper, and I figured he was searching his mind for who the heck I was and what we were meeting about. 

“Yes,” I said with a nod.  “We’re meeting today about the financial problems with your charity?”

The last bit came out as a question, like I wasn’t certain, except I was.  I suppose I wasn’t sure he was certain.  Maybe he was hoping to cancel at the last minute.  I wouldn’t be surprised.  

After another quiet second that had my eyebrows tugging together as I stared at him, he finally answered.  “Yes, yes, we are.  I’m sorry, uh, come in.”

He motioned to the conference room, waiting for me to enter before him.  

I offered him a fleeting smile as I stepped inside. 

He raced toward a chair and pulled it out, offering me a warm smile. “I was just going to get you a water, or I could get coffee…maybe not the coffee.”

I chuckled as I sat down and set my laptop on the table and my purse on the floor.  “Really, I’m fine, but thank you.”

He hovered for a moment before he took a seat in front of the other laptop.  “Are you sure?  I’m happy to pop round to grab the water.”

I smiled at his British-isms, my eyes falling to his ring finger.  No ring.  That was a surprise, but not if he’d been recently divorced, I supposed.  

Or perhaps he didn’t wear one.  

It wasn’t my business. 

“Really, I’m perfectly fine,” I said as I opened my laptop and adjusted it.  

His eyes lingered on me before he nodded with a fleeting smile.  He was even more handsome in person than in his pictures with his chiseled features and his dazzling blue eyes.  

No wonder Lila Hawthorne had found him charming enough to have an affair with.  But again, not my business.

“So, I’ve come up with a list of things I’ll need to complete the investigation.  As you know, this will involve the FBI most likely because federal funds were likely involved.”  I flicked my gaze to him to gauge his reaction.

“Oh, yes, of course.  I may have some of those things here,” he said, shifting his folder closer to me.  “The others I assume I will need to give you electronically, although I confess, I’m not completely certain how to do that, but I will make sure it’s done.”

“I can help with that, too,” I said with a warm smile.  “I’m pretty used to whatever accounting software you use.  It’s likely just a matter of creating an account to allow me access like you would any other employee.”

“I see,” he said with a nod as he fiddled with the folder again.  Was he nervous about giving me access or simply making a mental note to pass this off to someone else?

“We’ll make sure we get it set up before I leave today.”

“Oh, good,” he said with a smile. “That will be helpful.”

“In terms of what I’ll need, it will be full access to all of your accounts via the accounting software, a list of employees with access to any of the accounts, and any previous audits.”

He shifted forward, opening the folder. “I do have some of that.  Although, we haven’t had previous audits, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, that’s no problem.  Along with the investigation, I’ll provide one for you so that you don’t have to request another.  There will likely be some tax questions, and you may find it useful.”  I typed a note in my document, reminding myself that he’d also need an audit.

“Oh, I couldn’t ask for that.  You’re already doing so much, and at no charge.  Please, may I ask you to revisit that?  I feel quite awful.”

“You can ask,” I said as I typed before I flicked my gaze to him, “but you won’t get very far.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, the corners of his lips tugging upward slightly into a soft smile.  “You are incredibly frustrating.”

“So I have been told,” I said with a coy smile.  

Caroline

THE DEVOTED PROTECTOR

Loyal • Steadfast • Protective • Unwavering

Caroline’s strength lies in unwavering loyalty. Calm, steady, and fiercely devoted, she protects the people she loves with quiet determination. When everything around her becomes uncertain, she is the one who refuses to let go.

— Featured Scene —

Classified.

Elsa

THE UNTAMED COWGIRL

Independent • Adventurous • Bold • Free-Spirited

Elsa was never meant to stay within anyone’s expectations. Independent and adventurous, she follows the call of open skies and new horizons wherever they lead. Freedom isn’t just something she wants—it’s something she lives.

— Featured Scene —

“Just one more thing,” Graham said as he closed the distance between us.  

He pulled a small velvet box from his pocket.  “Your ring.  We’re getting married in two days, so you need this.”

He cracked the box open and held it toward me.  

I arched an eyebrow at the honey of ring inside.  It looked like it cost enough to feed a small country.  “Is that real?” 

He scoffed, his eyes going to Virginia who flicked her eyebrows up with an amused smirk. “Yes, that’s six point five carats in the center flanked by two smaller diamonds.”

I wrinkled my nose.

“What?  You don’t like it?” 

“You could feed a small country for a year, Slick.”

“Will you please stop calling me that and put the ring on?” he said with a huff, his irritation apparent.  

I glanced up at him. “Aren’t you gonna get down on one knee?” 

He blinked at me a few times.  “Are you serious?”

I lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “That’s how I always imagined it.”

His nostrils flared, his jaw working overtime as he glanced sideways, looking annoyed.  “This isn’t a real marriage.”

“But you want it to look like one, don’t ya?” I asked.  “I mean, if this isn’t a real marriage, then I’ll ditch the dress and stay in for the night.”

He sucked in a deep breath, his chest puffing and his features twisting with exasperation.  “All right, fine.  You want me to do the whole thing, I’ll do it.”

Across the room, Virgina pressed her tablet tighter to her chest as she adjusted her glasses.  I wasn’t sure if she was on the verge of laughing or crying, but she seemed to struggle with holding something in.  

Graham heaved a heavy sigh as he lowered himself to one knee and offered me the ring. “Here.”

“That wasn’t how I thought you’d ask.”

His eyes went to the ceiling, and he cleared his throat. “Elsa, darling, will you do me the honor of being my fake wife for a year so I can save my company?” 

“Better.  Yes.  I would be happy to in exchange for seven million dollars with forty percent up front.”  I snatched the ring from the box and slid it onto my finger as I grinned at him.   

Ana

THE GOLDEN PRINCESS

Graceful • Radiant • Diplomatic • Kindhearted

Ana carries her crown with warmth as much as grace. Diplomatic, optimistic, and endlessly compassionate, she believes that kindness can shape the future of a kingdom. Where others see politics, she sees the chance to bring people together.

— Featured Scene —

I tapped into her message and re-read the conversation quickly.  She’d claimed she only had been permitted to have her phone so she could text me.  I was sure that wasn’t the case, but it gave her an excuse to text me, I supposed.

This morning, she’d sent a new message early.  Dad said you’re going to dinner with him?!

I chuckled at the enthusiasm obvious in the text.  Teenagers tended to see the world through a romantic lens that never foresaw any of the problems that adults inevitably did.  

She likely imagined this turning into some big love affair.  Although, I couldn’t deny the connection I’d felt to Sam last night.

But it could never work. Not with my…complications. 

I swapped over to the fourth message in my inbox.  Staying out of this may be harder than I anticipated.  

I reread the message for the third time.  Hi, it’s Sam.  Charlie’s dad.  Brigham Park.  Noon.  Hot dog stand near the fountain.  Looking forward to seeing you.

Something about the message seemed…hopeful.  And not about his daughter finding a friend to talk to.  

I chewed my lower lip, wondering if I could get out of this.  But part of me didn’t want to.  

With a slight sigh, I went back to Charlie’s message and typed a response.  We’re just meeting in the park.  I’m sure he’s curious about me since you’re texting me. 

Then I shifted to her father’s message.  Well, it’s a good thing I like hot dogs.

Messages flooded back to me quickly.  First, Charlie.  That’s close enough.  I bet he brings you flowers.  If he does, it’s because he really likes you.  

I pressed my lips together as I arched an eyebrow at the string of emojis that followed including a flower, a heart, and two people kissing. 

That’s very funny.  Why aren’t you in school?

I shifted messages to read Sam’s.  Hey, you’re the one who cut me off at the knees with food choices.  If it were up to me, I’d have picked the lobster at Tres Luxe.  But you shot me down before I could impress you, so hot dog it is.

A laugh escaped me, and I clapped a hand over my mouth.  I hadn’t laughed out loud like that in such a long time. Certainly not over a man’s attention.  

It felt good to be noticed for nothing more than whatever had attracted him—my looks, my personality, both.  Although, I still worried.  Was this fleeting?  

Was this some billionaire’s game?  

Men in his circles usually dated whatever hot, young thing came along.  It didn’t take much for them to snag a woman.  They rarely had to work for it beyond tossing money at the problem.  

Was that what he expected?

My phone chimed again before I could answer Sam with a message from Charlie.  Relax.  I’m in study hall.  It would be so cool if you dated my dad.  He hasn’t dated anyone since my mom died. But he really needs someone.

I stared at the message, my heart a tangled mix of hope and fear.  She was likely just assuming things that weren’t close to true…or were they?  

I didn’t want her getting her hopes up for a relationship that may not even happen. But I didn’t want to crush her—not when she was clearly in a vulnerable place. 

As I chewed my lower lip, I swapped into Sam’s message.  Funny, I had you pegged for a steak man.  And here we are debating lobster and hot dogs.  

Before I could send the message, another one flitted across my screen from Charlie.  Hey, I hope I didn’t scare you.  I’m just excited because my dad doesn’t ever seem interested, but he did with you. And he does need someone.  So do I. 

This poor kid.  I tapped the message to send to her father, then flipped into hers.  Let’s just take this one step at a time, okay?  

She texted Yeah, okay.  But the smiley emoji that followed suggested she had no intention of doing that. 

A new message came from Sam next.  Aw, shoot.  Am I that easy to read?  I do love a steak.  You can find out how much if you let me take you out for a real dinner. 

For some ridiculous reason, my traitorous little heart fluttered.  Something about sitting across from him in a restaurant, staring into those piercing blue eyes, made me want to say yes. 

But I knew I couldn’t.  I shouldn’t.  

This needed to go slow.  He’d lose interest if I didn’t give into him easily.  Right?

I tapped into his message and texted back.  Let’s see how the hot dog goes.

Carina

THE QUIET ROMANTIC

Soft-Spoken • Loyal • Dreamful • Tender

Carina has always felt things more deeply than most. Soft-spoken but quietly loyal, she believes in love even when experience tells her to be cautious. Beneath her gentle nature lies a courage that grows stronger every time she chooses hope.

— Featured Scene —

The doors whooshed open in front of me, revealing a massive living room.  Rich colors and fabrics, glittering surfaces, and sparkling chandeliers filled the space.  

The driver motioned for me to precede him into the room.  

I hesitated before I finally stepped forward, my eyes widening as I searched the room for my mystery benefactor.  

A woman hovered at a bar, pouring something from a cocktail mixer into a wide-rimmed glass.  

She shifted on her spiked heels, the fabric of her impeccably tailored dress moving gracefully with her.  

The driver cleared his throat softly, and the woman turned.  She looked familiar, but I wasn’t sure why.

“Ah, James, good, you’re here,” she said in a crisp British accent.  “That will be all for tonight.”

He offered nothing more than a nod before he pun on a heel and strode back toward the elevator, punching the button to call it. 

If he was leaving…how was I supposed to get home? 

The elevator chimed, and suddenly I felt exposed and alone.  I watched him step into the elevator, wondering if I should race across the room and dive inside, too.  

But the doors closed before I could.  High heels clicked across the marble floor, approaching me.  I turned to find a martini glass being offered to me.  

“Uhhh—“

“Take it, you need it.” 

With a trembling hand, I grabbed the glass, pulling it toward me in a desperate attempt to try to steady it.  Should I drink it?  What if it was drugged?

“Please, sit.” The woman motioned toward the couch.  

“I’m…” My voice didn’t want to work, barely squeaking out of my tight through.  I cleared my throat and tried again.  “I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure what I’m doing here—or even if I’m in the right place.” 

The woman didn’t answer immediately.  Instead, she crossed back to the bar, picked up a folder, and flicked it open.  “Carina Reed.  Age twenty-five.  Father deceased eleven years prior.  Mother, Marla Reed.  Fiance…”

She flicked her gaze to me, pausing for a moment. “Or is it ex-fiance?” 

I glanced down at the ring still on my finger.  “We…are…”

She sashayed toward me, all confidence and flourish.  “On the rocks?” 

“We’ve hit a rough patch,” I murmured. 

Her eyebrow rose higher, her long lashes fluttering.  “Is that what they’re calling it when your fiance shags your mother.” 

I choked on my drink, regretting taking a sip of it immediately.  

“Yes,” she answered, as I wiped at the dribble on my chin. “You’ll find I’m quite blunt.  I find it tedious to be anything but.” 

“They didn’t sleep together,” I defended—why I didn’t know.  Anger boiled under my surface.  Or was it humiliation?  

The woman tilted her head, a disbelieving expression on her features.  “If you say so.” 

My jaw tightened.  Had she brought me here merely to subject me to more torment over what was already the most demeaning moment of my entire life?  “Look, uh…I don’t even know your name…”

A scoff escaped me.  

“Octavia Cavanaugh.  You don’t recognize me?” 

I froze, eyeing her.  No wonder she looked so familiar to me.  Of course, I knew Octavia Cavanaugh, fashion icon, philanthropist, society darling, and of course, filthy rich.  Why in the world had Octavia Cavanaugh called me to the Cavanaugh Grande’s Presidential Suite in the middle of the night?

“I’ll take that as a no.” She tossed the folder down onto the table next to a thick stack of papers.  It landed with a slap that echoed in the vast penthouse.  

She crossed back to the bar to retrieve her drink.  “It doesn’t matter.  You know of me, I take it?” 

My eyebrows knitted as I tried to work through what was happening.  I found myself nodding.  “Y-yes.  I know who you are.” 

“Good.  Then you know what I can offer to you.” 

“Not really.” I shrugged, my head shaking.  “I have no idea why you would have called me here.  Or how you even found me.” 

“Oh, darling, everyone is buzzing about that photo.  Your mother.  Your fiance.  And the subsequent fallout.”  She puckered her lips as she studied me.  “Even if they aren’t involved…it looks bad.  Judging by your puffy eyes and red nose, you quite agree.” 

I lowered my gaze, my lips tugging into a deep frown.  My nose burned as tears formed again.  

And I still had no idea why I was here.  Was this what rich people did to feel powerful?  Call peons here to laugh over their misfortune?  

“And he hasn’t defended you once.  Not even after your so-called mother chimed in to suggest you were…how did she put it?” Octavia narrowed her eyes, staring into space.  “Unable or unwilling to fulfill his needs?” 

I shifted my weight, sucking in a deep breath.  “Look, I don’t know why you brought me here, but I think I’ve heard enough.” 

I set the glass down on the table next to my dossier with a loud clank.  “I’d like to go home.”

Her features turned surprised, but not apologetic.  “Oh, I don’t think so.”

My pulse quickened.  Was she saying I couldn’t go home?  My lips parted, eyes widening slightly as my claustrophobia kicked in.  I felt trapped. 

“Oh, don’t worry, dear.  You’re not being held hostage.  I’m here to help.  Consider me your fairy godmother—only in better shoes.” She sipped at her martini casually.

“I don’t know what you mean.” My fingernails dug into my palm.  My mind lagged behind what was happening.  I had no idea what she was driving at.  And she seemed to enjoy playing the cat who caught the canary.  

One corner of her lips tugged back into a satisfied smirk.  “Oh, my darling, enjoy this moment.  Remember it.  Because this is the moment your life changes for the better.”  

Serena

THE PERCEPTIVE MIND

Observant • Thoughtful • Insightful • Intelligent

Serena notices the things others miss. Thoughtful and perceptive, she reads the quiet details in every room and every conversation. That insight gives her an advantage few people realize she has—until it’s too late.

— Featured Scene —

I danced from one foot to the other, fingernails digging into my palms.  Sweat slicked my skin, making my sweater stick to my back in a way that made me want to peel it away.  

But I dared not do that.  

My mind raced. I’d placed that ad anonymously.  How…

Before I could finish that question, I stopped myself.  I worked for the premiere defense contractor in the country, if not the world.  

They probably monitored all of our communications, especially ads like this in case we were trying to signal someone and sell secrets.  

My throat went dry, but I tried desperately to speak.  “Mr. Blackwell, I…I didn’t…it was purely personal.” 

Heat rose in my cheeks as embarrassment roiled inside me.  My boss, my very wealthy, very polished, very commanding boss, had read my pathetic little plea to get married.  Not for love.  Not even for money.

Not for any reason that actually counted.  Instead, it was to cross an item off a bucket list I’d written as a child.  

And even more embarrassingly, I’d never been able to cross it off by finding a partner naturally.  Instead, I had to beg a stranger on the internet to pity me and slip a ring on my finger.  

For a man who probably had never heard the word no, it must have come across as disgustingly pathetic. 

He narrowed his eyes slightly as he rose.  

My stomach quivered.  I wondered if he usually stood when he fired people.  Why hadn’t he had just let HR do the deed?

Maybe he’d gotten his ruthless reputation by handling matters like this himself.  

How terrible would it be?  Would I get a lecture first?  Maybe something that told me how sad I sounded in the ad.  Or maybe something that sliced right to my bone, telling me I’d never get ahead in life with behavior like this.

Either way, it would be an unnecessary prelude to the real gut punch of losing my job. 

He casually strolled across the room to a wet bar, grabbing a bottle of sparkling water and cracking it open, pouring two glasses.  “Would a yacht do?” 

The question wasn’t at all what I anticipated.  I didn’t understand what he was saying?  Was this a joke?  

My eyebrows pinched together as I memorized the plush carpet under my feet.

A glass floated in front of my face. 

My lips parted as I stared at it before I snapped my gaze to Mr. Blackwell.  

He shifted it closer, his eyebrows raising. 

I accepted the glass.  It shook as I raised it to my lips and took a sip.  

“So, yes or no?” He crossed back to his desk, one hand in his pocket, the other raising his own glass.

“Uh, uh…I-I’m sorry, what?” 

“You want to get married on a boat.  Any objection to it being a yacht?” 

I swallowed hard.  Was this some kind of joke? 

A chuckle escaped me, and my features twisted with confusion.  “Ummm, I…uh, I’m sorry.  I’m a little confused.  Am I…am I getting fired?”

“Possibly,” he answered simply, matter-of-factly.  

A lump formed in my throat, and I pushed to speak around it.  “Okay, umm, is there anything I can say on my behalf to…to make your decision or—“

“You can tell me if a yacht meets the criteria,” he answered.

One corner of his lips twitched like he was amused by this.  

“Uh, I…” My mind couldn’t form a normal thought.  “I guess, yes.  It’s…a boat…a ship.  It’s…similar enough.” 

His chin lifted slightly.  “Excellent.  Then I have a proposal for you.” 

I blinked.  

He set his glass down and slid a folder off of the desk, thrusting it toward me. 

I shifted my drink to my left hand and reluctantly accepted it, flicking it open.  

The glass nearly fell from my hands as I stared at the bold black lettered printed at the top of the page. 

MARRIAGE AGREEMENT

Our names followed.  

My stomach turned over as I snapped my gaze to him. “What is this?”

His eyebrows flicked upward, a hint of surprise crossing his features.  “I thought that was obvious.”

He stepped closer, snatching the folder from my hands and scanning the document.  “Yes, this is correct.  It’s a contract for marriage.”

“Between us,” I murmured, a hint of incredulity in my voice. 

“Right.  That’s what it says.  Subject to your approval of the yacht as the location, this is set to be signed whenever you’re ready.”

“Wh-What?” I asked.

He stared at me for a second, disbelief dancing in his eyes.  “Are the terms not to your liking?  The NDA is nonnegotiable, and I think the payment is more than generous.” 

I yanked the papers back from him, skimming past the legal language to find the terms.  I wasn’t permitted to discuss the contract or anything to do with our personal lives before, during, or after our marriage.  

We would marry, remain coupled for the duration of at least eighteen months during which time we would present the image of a happy couple, and after which we would quietly divorce, and I would receive the sum of five million dollars.  

My lips parted as I stared at the amount.  I counted the zeros in the number again to make sure it was right.  

Five million dollars. 

“Something wrong?” His voice snapped me back to reality, and I glanced up at him.

“Uh, no.  I…just so I understand clearly, you…saw my ad, and now, you want…to marry me?” 

“Yes,” he answered with a curt nod.

“Why?” 

“Let’s just say I have a bucket list, too, and I need a wife right now to achieve some of things on that list.  This is to our mutual benefit.”

I frowned, flicking the folder closed.  “May I ask what those things are?” 

“May I ask if you plan to sign that?”