Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 134961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 675(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 675(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
I glare at her. “The only thing he’s doing to me is ruining my life.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s what this is,” Jas snorts.
Emma, still scrolling, pauses thoughtfully.
“Hm. This is weird.”
I tense. “What?”
“It’s just that I’ve scrolled back, and he doesn’t seem to post much outside of racing stuff. And there’s, like… nothing about his family. No siblings. No old school photos. Just… cars.”
Leah pouts. “That’s boring.”
“I don’t know,” Emma shrugs. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe he’s just private.”
“Or maybe,” Jas says, sipping her coffee, “he’s hiding something.”
Leah gasps, clearly loving the drama of it all.
I, however, am done with this conversation.
I grab my phone, slide out of bed, and head toward the sanctuary of the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” Emma calls.
I glance back. “Somewhere where people aren’t investigating my alleged enemies-to-lovers situation, thank you very much.”
“Alleged, huh?” Jas smirks.
I slam the bathroom door behind me.
* * *
After a day spent lounging at the pool, indulging in far too many expensive cocktails, and trying desperately to ignore the fact that my so-called friends are now obsessed with my alleged enemies-to-lovers situation (which, for the record, is absolutely not a thing), we finally get ready for our evening plans.
The casino.
A night for us - just the girls, just fun, just drama-free luxury.
And, thank goodness, no French menace in sight.
We should have been going here last night instead of heading to Jacques' party; but I suppose it all worked out in the end.
Emma perches on the edge of the bed, adjusting one of her earrings as I slide into my slinky black dress.
“You know,” she muses, tilting her head, “it feels suspicious that we haven’t seen him today.”
I pause mid-swipe of my lipstick, glaring at her reflection in the mirror.
“Don’t start.”
Jas grins from where she’s currently sprawled out on the chaise lounge.
“No, she’s right. It’s almost like he’s lurking. Waiting.”
“Can I get one day off?” I complain.
Leah stands in front of the floor-length mirror, smoothing down her satin gold gown.
“You did spend an awful lot of time insisting it was just enemies, not enemies-to-lovers,” she says.
“Which, honestly, is the most enemies-to-lovers thing you could say,” Em adds.
I throw a makeup brush at her, and Emma ducks, cackling.
“I hate all of you,” I declare, adjusting my dress and slipping into my heels. “Whatever romance books you’ve been reading are clearly messing with your head. This is my actual life, you know.”
Jas sighs, feigning disappointment.
“That’s a shame, because we love you, and we just want you to experience a little romance. Or, at the very least, a mildly inappropriate Monaco fling.”
“It would be very on-brand,” Leah nods.
“I don’t have a brand,” I snap.
“You do now,” Emma laughs.
I press my fingers against my temples.
“You realise we’re going to a casino, right? A place filled with actual billionaires and actual Monaco royalty. And yet somehow - somehow - the only person you care about is that asshole.”
Emma grins. “Yes.”
“Correct,” Jas nods.
Leah shrugs her shoulders. “We can multitask.”
I sigh deeply as I reach for my clutch.
“Let’s just get downstairs before I decide to change my flight and leave this country tonight.”
“Oh, please,” Emma says as she pats my arm, completely unbothered. You’re not going anywhere.”
With that, we head out into the Monaco night, ready for a drama-free evening of elegance, excess, and perfectly curated chaos.
For once, I allow myself to believe it’ll actually stay that way.
Chapter Twenty-One
Poppy
The Monte Carlo casino is exactly what I expected.
A ridiculous display of wealth.
Even before we step inside, the sheer extravagance is overwhelming.
The driveway alone is the size of a small airport runway, lit by elegant lanterns and lined with an army of valets in pristine uniforms.
A fleet of obscenely expensive luxury cars - Ferraris, Bugattis and Rolls-Royces - are being expertly parked and polished right outside, their owners stepping out in tailored suits and gowns that I’d happily bet are worth more than my university fees.
And as we step inside, it’s all gold accents, crystal chandeliers and people dripping in couture they probably only wear once.
Leah inhales deeply, sighing in absolute bliss.
“This,” she says, sweeping her arms dramatically, “is my true home.”
“Funny. I thought Jacques’ palace was your true home,” Jas smirks.
“I can have multiple homes, you know,” Leah responds.
Emma grins, slipping an arm through mine as we step towards the bar.
“Alright, ladies. Shall we get a drink before we gamble away our savings?”
“Correction,” Jas says, taking a seat. “We gamble away Poppy’s savings.”
I groan, already regretting my life choices. “I am not funding your rich girl fantasy.”
“Then what is the point of having you as a best friend?” Jas asks.
I nudge her with my hip, rolling my eyes as I grab the cocktail menu.
“If I wasn’t paying for your overpriced drinks, you’d miss me terribly.”
Jas smirks. “Possibly.”
Leah orders a martini, Emma gets a negroni, Jas opts for whiskey, and I settle on a French 75 - because if I’m going to commit to the theme of this trip, I may as well drink like a chic heiress.