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04.

The door groaned open, and the moment the smell of Golden Delicious wafted through my nose, my mood immediately deteriorated.

Uninvited, the harbinger of disruption otherwise known as my sister, who I hadn't spoken to since our father's passing, stepped into the room, her presence invading the quietude.

A file landed on the cluttered desk with an inconsiderate thud, but I offered it no acknowledgment as my eyes remained resolutely fixed on the labyrinth of spreadsheets displayed on the computer screen.

"It needs your approval," Lily finally spoke, each word laden with disdain.

My reply was a curt nod.

"Now," she pressed, unyielding, but I maintained my silence and continued typing, unfazed by her insistence.

"Tristan," impatience tinged in her voice.

"I was busy," I responded, my focus remaining tethered to the task at hand.

"This can't wait."

"It would."

She slammed her hand on the table. "I needed it fucking signed now."

Finally diverting my gaze from the computer, I looked up at the slender Gucci-adorned airhead and met her icy stare with deliberate indifference.

She stood before me, looking like the overzealous runway model she was, with those strawberry blonde curls framing her face etched with resentment.

"I'll get to it when I please, Lily," I stated.

"I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Like everyone else, you will wait."

"Who the fuck did you think you were?"

"Your elder brother and your fucking supervisor," I seethed, matter-of-fact. "Now if you're done, use the door and get lost."

"I don't take orders from you," she bit and plopped down on the chair opposite mine. "I'll wait."

I sighed, a mix of annoyance and resignation. Her banter was the last thing I had the energy for. "Be my guest." My attention returned to the comforting glow of the computer screen, and I typed away, ignoring her.

Silence ensued.

She drummed her ridiculously long claws on my desk, evidently trying to provoke me, but I paid no yield.

"I heard you're e finally got married."

I stayed quiet, working.

"I thought dad's lawyer lied, but you really got hitched, didn't you?" She crossed her legs. "Who's the unlucky rat? How much did you pay her to pretend to be in love with you."

Silence.

She leaned forward and propped her elbow on my desk. "Not going to answer? Hm? Big Brother?"

Her taunting made me cringe. I persevered.

She sighed dramatically. "Bet Mother would've been thrilled."

My body went tight with tension. I stopped and looked up, knowing exactly where she was going with this. "Lily."

She leaned back, a senile smirk playing on her cherry lips. "You were always her favorite, you know; the Golden Boy. Don't know what she saw in you, but anyway, I'm a little disappointed she won't be here to witness her son recite his vows."

My fists clenched. Beneath my composed exterior, anger simmered, but I chose silence, refusing to dignify her provocations.

"Then again..." She slurred. "If you hadn't killed her, she-"

"Lily, drop it," I growled, a low, rumbling warning.

"There it is." She needled, smiling. "The real psycho. Does your wife know about what happened? When do you plan to introduce her to your dear family?"

"I've had enough of you, Lily, get out."

"What?" Her brow lifted in an arrogant arch. "Scared?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "You know, I wouldn't be surprised if you actually pulled that damn trigger yourself and blamed it on that poor guy. You've always been that sick in the head. Who knows? Maybe you killed Dad too; he did die of poisoning, didn't he?"

My composure slipped and snapped like a taut wire. Rising abruptly, I slammed my hand on the desk, the sharp crack reverberating through the room. "You better watch your tone with me, Lily." I bellowed, the force of my command echoing in the confined space.

Undeterred, she stood and held her ground, meeting my glare with defiant resolve. "Or you'll what?" She scoffed. "You don't scare me, Tristan. You might have everyone fooled, but I know the truth, and I'll never stop until you're locked behind bars where you truly belong."

Teeth gritting, I pointed to the door. "Get out."

She stared at me.

One second.

Two.

"Lily, get the fuck out now!"

She smiled. "Have a good day, big brother."

With that, she snatched her file, turned, and traipsed out.


"Tristan..." Dark tears leaked down her face as she begged for a moment to breathe, but I didn't give her that chance. I shoved her legs further apart and clasped her thighs tight, keeping her in place as I pushed deeper into her tight ass, giving her all my cock.

There was nothing sweet about this sex. It was brutal and I was stuck between repulsion and arousal as I fucked her relentlessly, stretching her with each thrust. She could choke on her spit for all I cared. I didn't want to hear her talk; I didn't want to hear her even breathe. I just needed this; I needed to expel my pent-up rage that had been mounting for days.

I tightened my hold on her throat as I continued to find my anchor, pushing, slamming into her ass harder.

"Oh, God, oh, God." She panted in time with my thrusts, squirming to break free, but I didn't stop.

I was so close.

Shit.

My eyes shut. My fingers dug into her flesh. With a grunt, I stilled and twitched, releasing deep inside her.

Fuck...

The pleasure I felt was only momentary.

As I eased off her and watched my cum drip out of her puckered hole, all I felt was utter disgust.

She was sweating, red, and bruised around the neck and face from my intense manhandling. I could see a hint of blood on the corner of her swollen lip. She must have bitten too hard on it when I whipped her with my belt and instructed her not to make a single sound.

I quickly untied her arms above her head and clambered out of bed. She sighed and shuffled around behind me as I picked up my red robe and covered myself. "Get dressed," I instructed, tying the robe around my waist. "Ryder will be at the door to take you home."

"That's it?"

I moved to my mirror. "I'm done with you."

"But why did it have to end so soon?" She asked, rising. "What about the cuffs?" She slithered up behind me. "You promised to flog me today."

I closed my eyes and exhaled. If I thought I was fucked in the head, Shelly was way worse. "Shelly, you know the rules; you leave when I tell you to."

"Oh, but you always take long before you call, and you leave me wanting more." She pushed her hand forward and hugged me. "You're all I have, you know that, right?" She kissed my back. "You didn't even whip me as hard as I wanted; I got excited thinking you were going to leave new marks today. The old ones are starting to fade." Her hand slid down my chest, heading down my abdomen. "Pleaseee?" Just as she was about to cop a feel, I grabbed her hand and bent her wrist.

She yelled and recoiled.

I turned. "I do not enjoy repeating myself, Shelly; get dressed and get out."

"You nearly broke my wrist!" She hissed, holding her hand.

"And I'll break it some more if I have to repeat myself for the third time."

Hurt bloomed in her eyes. "Do you always have to be so hard on me?"

"You have two minutes."

"Tristan, you-"

"One minute."

"Ugh! I hate you!" She lashed and stormed off.

The door to my painting sanctuary swung open with an impatient force, disrupting the tranquil ambiance.

"I've found her!"

Stefan.

I smelt him before I heard him. His feminine fragrance was as sickening as ever, cutting through my concentration like a discordant note in a symphony.

A wild dance of dark colors swirled on the canvas before me as I continued to move my brush with deliberate strokes. "Found who?" I worded out distastefully, not at all in the mood for company.

Undeterred by my disinterest, he marched forward and tossed a meticulously organized rectangular file onto my cluttered desk, the crisp sound cutting through the room's stillness. "I've finally found our girl; someone who's willing to play the role of your fake wife."

My hands paused mid-stroke on my canvas. I looked up. "You have?"

Stefan nodded, clearly pleased with himself. "I pulled a few strings and made some last-minute calls. It wasn't easy, but I managed to convince someone."

I set my brush down, my curiosity piqued despite the lingering frustration within me. "Who is it?"

"Sienna Bardot." He slid the envelope over to me. "She's our girl, the best out there, you're fo sho gonna like her."

Surprised he managed to pull it off, I picked up the file case and opened it. The first paper I withdrew was a doctor's note.

"Medical exam report," Stefan explained. "I had her take one just to feed your curiosity. As clean as a baby's leg." He nodded to the file. "There's an exclusive background check in there as well."

I reached into the envelope and pulled it out. Her background check was barely a page. I skimmed through.

SIENNA BARDOT
Personal record

Full Name: Sienna Leticia Bardot.

• Gender: Female.

Pronouns: She/ her.

• Date of Birth: October 13, 1997.

• Place of Birth: Hobart, Australia.

• Height: (cm) 162.56

• Weight: (kg) 55

• Blood Type: O-

• Genotype: AA

• Allergies: Allergic to grass pollen, shrimp, dog fur.

• Telephone Number: (214) 546-8760.

• Email address: [email protected].

• House Address:
- Primary: 7004, South Hobart, Kingston, Tasmania.
- Alternate: 321 W 47th St, Chicago, IL 70409, United States.

• Hobbies: cooking, hiking, camping, reading thrillers.

• Religion: Christianity.

• Civil Status: Single.

• Study history :
-Fahan School. Adr. 1 Fisher Ln, Sandy Bay TAS 7005, Australia.
-Southern Cross University. Adr. Military Rd, East Lismore NSW 2480, Australia.

•Employment: None; medical license seized for violation of code of conduct. Reason: mixing up surgery schedule.

I stopped and blinked, utterly astonished. What kind of moron messed up something as crucial as that?

Father: Unknown.

• Mother: Olivia Bardot.
- Age. 59.
- Nat. Australian.
- MR. 1989 Steven Smith. (Deceased)
2007, Paul Fisher.
2012, Michael Fox. (Deceased.)
2018, Coby Nickel.

• Brother: Axton Smith; ex-US army command sergeant major. Age. 31. Disabled.
- MR. 2015 Amanda Holden. DIV. 2018.

• Acquaintances:
- Bella Jones. Rel. Hometown neighbor. (Deceased)reason: covid 19.
- Candace Williams: Rel: roommate.
- Jackson Widow: Rel. Work colleague, ex.

"There are a couple of photos," Stefan informed.

I reached inside again and withdrew a glossy photograph of a girl who sat on a boulder, slender hands in the air as she struck some sort of pose.

My brows rose. She was young, very young; big bright hazel eyes, long wavy raven dark hair disheveled and flowing over her shoulders that were exposed in that strapless sundress.

She was petite, short, complete with minor curves but I couldn't write off the hint of malnourishment. And what was with those boots?

"She's perfect." Stefan chirped in, already noting my disapproval. "And she can be trusted."

There was nothing remarkable or exciting about her. She looked too bland. I shook my head. "I don't see what's perfect about this one."

"Aw come on, don't say that. She's everything on your outrageous list."

"She looks like she hasn't eaten in days," I remarked distastefully. "And some sleep wouldn't hurt to rid those dark circles under her eyes."

"She doesn't look that bad."

"I don't like her."

"Sorry boss but you're gonna have to like her because I had to go through thirty different women in the span of three weeks and I'm not prepared to go through that again."

This wasn't going to do. "She's not my type, Stefan, I don't like her."

Stefan's face tightened into a frown. "Last I remembered, sir, you don't have a type. She's staying, she's cute and funny, and you'll like her."

"I'm not paying two million for cute and funny." I bit off. "I don't want her. I asked for a courteous and obliging woman, someone presentable, not this."

"No courteous and obliging woman will agree to be your pretend wife." He countered. "And this." He poked the photo. "This is our best bet. You can't make up your mind before you've met her."

"I can."

"Come on," he exhaled impatiently. "I know I can't force you, you're my boss after all, but just give her a chance. We don't have time on our hands anymore."

I tilted my head to study him for a moment. He did have a point. Objectively, time was something I didn't have in abundance and I suppose I was in no position to be particular especially now when I had less than a week left before I needed to make the big announcement.

It didn't matter what I preferred.

"Trust me when I say Sisi is a really good girl and you're not going to have trouble with her. In fact, I think you'll both coexist perfectly. There's a warmth to her that everyone always gets drawn to." Stefan pitched, causing me to eye him curiously.

"You seem to know her on a personal level."

He shrugged. "We go a long way back, nothing serious. She's like a sister to me and I wouldn't give her this job if I didn't think she could pull it off. She's perfect."

I released a breath and shifted my gaze back to the photo.

Sienna Bardot.

I was going to regret this, wasn't I?

I looked at him with all seriousness. "Are you one hundred percent certain she can pull this off?"

"Yes."

"Very well then, make arrangements for her arrival and make sure to do something about her wardrobe choices."

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