Bree's POV
"Now you all are going to throw your graduation caps up at the same time. Are you ready? Three, two, one—Now!" said the photographer.
It was my graduation, after spending six years studying Nutrition and Dietetics at Columbia University, New York. Everyone was happy—but mine felt different.
Don't get me wrong—I am happy that I'm now a graduate and that I'll get a better job that pays well. But my family isn't here to celebrate with me. I understand their reasons for not being present. Even with that, I still felt bad. At least I have my lovely best friend with me—Avery Thomas. We're graduating together, having studied the same course.
I think I need to do a proper introduction.
My name is Bree Adams. I'm 21 years old. I'm the first child of my parents, then comes my baby sister, who is four years younger than me.
We lost our dad in a ghastly accident shortly after I was admitted to Columbia University, and I wasn't able to attend his funeral. (How sad.) Things haven't been easy for my mom, so I had to get a part-time job at a restaurant. Through the little money I earned, I paid my bills and sent something home to help my mum.
Avery has been a supportive friend ever since I met her. Avery is the flirty type—she flirts with every handsome guy she sees—but she's scared of being in a relationship for reasons best known to her. As for me, I don't have time for relationships, even though I do get asked out a lot. But I barely have time for myself, not to mention a whole relationship. It's better not to begin what I know I can't finish...
"Bree!!!" Avery called, snapping me back to reality.
"Are you okay?" I asked, confused about why she was calling me so loudly.
"Seriously? Am I okay, or are you okay? You've been standing here like a statue! I called you more than four times, and you didn't respond," Avery said with a worried look.
"I'm sorry. I was lost in thought," I explained.
"What were you thinking about, Bree? Is it about Mom and Betty?" she asked.
"Yeah, I think so," I replied.
"Come on, Bree. I told you not to feel bad about them not being here to celebrate with you. I'm sure they also wish they could be. And I'm here for you. Or don't you want me anymore?" she asked, putting on a baby face.
"Why wouldn't I want you? You'll always be with me—don't think that way," I assured her.
"So will you stop thinking and enjoy your graduation?" she pleaded.
"Of course," I said, smiling.
"Good. So, guess what?" she asked excitedly.
This girl is a pain in the ass, but I'm stuck with her for good.
"What is it? You know I'm not good at guessing," I said impatiently.
"Okay, I'll just go straight to the point..."
"Better," I said, cutting her off.
"Will you shut the fuck up and let me talk?" she yelled.
"Sorry, ma'am," I said, trying so hard not to laugh.
"Good. So, as I was saying, we—the graduates—are going to the club to celebrate. So, are you in?" she asked, grinning.
"As if I have a say," I said, rolling my eyes.
"Good girl. We'll be leaving by 8 p.m. Let's go home so we can rest before then," she said.
I forgot to mention—she has a car that her dad got her for her 22nd birthday. Yeah, she's a year older than me, so she treats me like the sister she doesn't have. We live together.
"Aren't you going with your parents?" I asked.
"They already left. I actually asked them to go without me so that we could have dinner with them tomorrow," she said.
"Okay, let's go," I replied.
We walked to where she parked her car, and we drove out of school. We stopped at a boutique to get dresses for tonight and headed home afterward. Once we got home, we ate something, took our baths, and both had a good nap.
I woke up to someone tapping me.
"Bree, wake up so we can prepare and get going. It's already 7:25 p.m.," I heard that she-devil's voice. AVERYYY!!! I screamed in my head.
"Avery, stop tapping me. I'm already up," I said, sitting up with a sleepy face.
"Go have your bath. I've had mine," she said and walked to the makeup mirror.
I sighed, got up, and walked to the bathroom. After enjoying a relaxing warm bath, I returned to the bedroom, which was now empty. Avery must be done and waiting for me in the sitting room. I needed to hurry.
I dried my hair, wore my undies, applied lotion, did my makeup, curled my hair and let it fall in waves, then slipped into my black V-neck armless gown with a thigh-high slit, paired with gold heels. I grabbed my gold clutch, checked myself once more, and went to meet Avery.
"OMG! Bree, you look breathtaking. All the guys won't be able to take their eyes off you when we get there," she said with a wild smile.
"Thanks, Avery. You also look great in your dress," I complimented.
"Thanks! Let's get going already," she said, dragging me out.
This time, we ordered a ride. It arrived, and we left.
Author's POV
Meanwhile, at an airport in New York, a private jet had just landed. The door opened, revealing a handsome young man in a tailored black suit. He was tall, dark-complexioned, with a strong body structure. You could still make out his broad chest under the fine-cut fabric of his suit.
About twenty bodyguards emerged from the cars lined up before his arrival. They formed a straight line and made space for him to pass. He walked between them with silent authority, his personal assistant trailing closely behind.
They all bowed their heads respectfully as he passed. One of the guards opened the car door for him, and he stepped in. His PA took the passenger seat. The rest of the guards quickly got into their vehicles. His car took the center position in a ten-car convoy, and they began to move—one after the other.
"Sir, where would you like to go first?" his PA asked, glancing at him through the rearview mirror.
"To my club. And call Adrian to meet me there. Xander is out of the country," Ayden instructed.
"Yes, sir," Ryan replied.
Ayden tapped his watch. "To the club," he commanded, transmitting the instruction to the others through the secure line.