18+
After her devastating breakup leaves her broke and jobless, Sienna Bardot is determined to do whatever it takes to find her standing and save herself from being a disgrace to her family so when an opportunity arises for her, she takes it, agree...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Do you play chess?" Mr. Bernard asked me as I helped pull the chess pieces back into the board. It was the least I could do after shamelessly lying to the old man who believed my insane story of how I fell in love with his grandson.
If I had any good left in me, I would've fallen to my knees and come clean, but the reality of what I could lose slapped my last bit of conscience away. "No, I didn't."
He nodded in understanding, fiddling with one of the pieces with a crown. "I play chess because the harmony of the game is relaxing. It helps me focus too." He placed the piece on the board. "You should learn, perhaps have Tristan teach you. He's grand at it." He smiled, shifting his gaze to Tristan who stood propped up against the wall on the other end of the room as he spoke into his phone.
Like clockwork, his eyes found mine. They were hot, and the weight of his gaze was hard, a striking contradiction to the smile he sent my way. My heart skipped. I turned away swiftly and met Bernard staring at me with a grin on his face.
"I'm sorry," I flushed, lowering my eyes.
"Oh, it's fine." He chuckled. "You can admire your fiance as much as you want. He is handsome, after all, and most importantly, he is yours."
Mine.
No, he wasn't. Tristan Larsen would never be interested in a town girl like me. I could never pull a guy like him. I wasn't sure I wanted to. "Yes, he was."
"The necklace suits you," he observed, looking at it.
I touched the pendant. "Thank you."
"Did he tell you the story behind it?"
I shook my head softly. Was he supposed to? "N-no."
"It belonged to my wife. The ruby was carved out of a jade stone. There's a myth that says it opens the heart to unconditional love and brings luck and good fortune. I had it forged into two pendants as a mark of our eternal love."
Oh, my. My heart warmed. "It's...lovely." I didn't deserve to wear this.
He grinned. "I have some photos of Tristan when he was younger. Do you want to see them?"
I nodded. "Of course."
He reached into the nightstand cabinet, smiling. "I keep them with me as a reminder of the complete family we once had." He pulled out a photo album.
I received it on my thighs and opened the first page.
A monochromatic image captured in shades of black and white presented itself. In it was a family of four standing behind the delightfully tall Eiffel Tower. On the left was a stunning woman with a slick ponytail who looked in her early thirties. She had a little girl propped on her curvy hips holding a red balloon-Tristan's little sister, I supposed.
Right next to the stunning woman was a smartly dressed man who had his hand around her waist and was smiling sweetly at the camera. In front of them was a boy; Tristan-he was dressed in an oversized suit, his dark hair styled neatly into a low bun. He wasn't smiling. As usual.
