Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Ollie vB: Briar. She can’t be this insufferable.
Romeo Costa: How do you mean?
Ollie vB: She just planned the worst wedding in the history of matrimony.
Romeo Costa: What do you care? The wedding isn’t real.
Zach Sun: OR IS IT.
Romeo Costa: We’re time-sharing the yacht, Zach.
Zach Sun: Screw that. You said two weeks. I said one. Whoever is closest to the timeline wins. And yes, I’m sitting here with a stop watch.
Ollie vB: I don’t think you understand. She isn’t Dallas. Her mission in life is not to make people around her lose their sanity. She is usually mild and funny and awesome.
Romeo Costa: Looks like you have the tendency to bring the worst out of people.
Zach Sun: This is true. Remember that married one who tried to set your house on fire?
Romeo Costa: Or the ditzy socialite who tried to kidnap your dogs?
Zach Sun: Or the fangirl who attempted to steal your sperm?
Ollie vB: I’m going to cry.
Zach Sun: Please livestream. You know I love a good meltdown.
Ollie vB: She is as infuriating as she is hot.
Romeo Costa: What does that mean?
Ollie vB: That I’m about to get a heart attack, mostly.
Chapter Fifty
Oliver
There was a major chance I wouldn’t make it out of dinner alive.
Not if my fiancée had anything to do with it.
I didn’t know what Briar had in store for me, but I didn’t believe she’d broken the coffee machine by accident (she wasn’t clumsy) or that she spontaneously decided to blue-ball me by masturbating as I showered and inventing bikini yoga (which the internet confirmed was, unfortunately, not a real thing).
She was up to something.
Nothing I could do about it but wait until the guillotine fell. If I were lucky, it would lob off my head and put an end to this miserable existence. Briar and Seb would get the happy ending they deserved, and Mom and Dad could finally be free of our Tuesday dinners with their only son that bothered to show up.
With the feast preparations well under way, I bodied past my staff, sauntering through the vast hallways of my mansion, mainly to double-check that Briar hadn’t set anything on fire in the twenty minutes it had taken to feed Al Capony and Usain Colt.
Once I confirmed the absence of flames, I settled in front of a window overlooking the lake. With my hands linked behind my back, I studied Sebastian’s empty rowing boat. He wouldn’t be able to use it tonight. Not with the catering company’s table set-up by the lake. They’d prepared a waterside eight-coarse meal, mostly vegetarian to accommodate Briar, though Hettie made some additions.
Midnight rows remained my brother’s sole outlet. The only time he felt comfortable venturing out of his wing to get some fresh air. A stab of guilt sliced through my chest. I shook my head and crept to his wing, peering left and right to ensure Briar couldn’t see me.
The last thing I needed was for her to unearth my reclusive, foul-mouthed, bitter-at-the-universe brother living there. To witness how I’d turned Sebastian von Bismarck, one of the most sought-after men in the world, into a shadow of himself.
I had the opposite of the Midas Touch. I turned everything I touched into shit. Ruined everything. Unfailingly. Including my relationships with Sebastian, Briar, and my parents.
The dogs chased me as I waded into Sebastian’s territory.
Huh. Weird. They’d never ventured into this side of the house before.
I opened the two baby gates, careful to close them quietly to avoid drawing Briar’s attention. Even with the twenty-thousand-or-so square feet, I couldn’t be too careful.
Seb didn’t glance up when I waltzed straight into his gym. I knew I’d find him there. Glued to the rowing machine – always rowing – in only a pair of black gym shorts. His body glistened with sweat, every inch covered in hard-earned muscles.
I refused to believe he was off the market because of his face. As if faces mattered to women. If they did, Pete Davidson would still be a virgin.
“If it isn’t brother dearest.” Sebastian pulled the handle and stretched all the way back before sliding in, his movements smooth and controlled. “To what do I owe this visit?”
Normally, I texted him before I came. He needed ample preparation time to face me. The only human he ever agreed to see face-to-face.
We shared exactly one set appointment a week, where we binge-watched seven days’ worth of Days of Our Lives episodes in complete silence and parted ways like it had never happened.
About every other week, I managed to convince Seb to spend an extra evening with me. We’d work out outside, in the remote woods beyond the property, but only late at night. Or share a meal I brought from Mom’s.
But I never, ever spontaneously checked on him.
I didn’t even know what possessed my feet to bring me here.