Juliette
He warned me we were doomed from the start, and I should have listened. But some fires burn too hot to resist.
Now, I'm trapped in a vicious cycle of desire, tangled up in Areston's dangerous world. Every kiss, every touch pulls me deeper...
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You'll need the seatbelt for this update
😈💅🏻🫦Darina-Juliette firstever face-off that's fiercer than previous version.
💗💒💍Special long cameo of our beloved ✨RicoBelle✨ from previous version in this alternate universe.
see if you can spot an Easter egg, hmm?🧐😁
🦋✨💗✨🦋
The sunny afternoon is a delight as collective cheers and gasps run through the crowd of Harvard alumnus and their partners in the Joseph F. Poor Memorial area as watch the team players thunderously gallop across the field, mallets raising, aiming for the perfect strikes to nail the goal. Areston is leading a winning team against Charles Hamilton The Eleventh who happens to be his polo rival from college days.
The love of my life is a vision of style, focus, and grace as he maneuvers the ball with such precision that seems so effortless and almost supernatural.
I am caught in the ripples of excitement, my gaze affixed to his form, admiring how he dominates the field just like he does with the business world and me. His actions and body are perfectly in harmony with his champion thoroughbred racehorse worth $48 millions, Predator, as if they share the same mind and same purpose.
My heart is racing from the thrill of watching him live in action after eleven years.
From a very young age, Areston established himself as an indomitable golf and polo player. The numerous global championship and tournament victories he has amassed are a testament to his exemplary game. I can see that over the years, his game has only sharpened, refined by experience and time. Watching him on a pony, swinging his mallet should be charged in millions.
"His Royal Highness's game needs a bit of work, doesn't it?" I hear a low, gravely, but insanely sexy male voice beside me.
I ignore the insanely sexy part when my mind quickly compares and analyzes it has got nothing on Areston's.
"What are you talking about? He's clearly on top of his game and is about to win the match." My voice comes out more defensive than I intend it to be. I have no shame about that.
"No biggie. Even I could win against Charles," arrives an arrogant reply.
I snort, "Yeah, right. Both of them are professional polo players with several global wins under their individual belts. They're on the field while you're a spectator in the stands just like the rest of us. That says a lot."
"Just because I am a spectator doesn't mean I am not a player as good as them."
"Are you?"
"Aren't you? I have heard Juliette Rothschild used to be one heck of a polo player back in Yale? Just because you haven't competed professionally does it make you a player any less than them, you reckon?"
