Love Arrangements
Author
OC Andrea (with S. S. Sahoo)
Reads
201K
Chapters
32
Artist heiress Adeline Roberts is framed for a breakdown and locked in an asylum following her grandmother’s suspicious death. Her only way out? A marriage of convenience with Ivan Preston, the disgraced billionaire psychiatrist who has every reason to loathe her family.
They have a contract, a common enemy, and a "strictly business" sex clause to handle the tension. But as they hunt a killer, they realize the only thing more dangerous than the corporate sharks is the heat between them.
Age Rating: 18+
Ditzy blonde
ADELINE
My life is over. I know it is. I’ve lost everything. And it’s only about to get worse. As I take one more glance around me, I realize this is rock bottom—straight-jacketed in a padded room. In one swift move, it all went up in flames. And right now, I can accept my fate and surrender to whoever orchestrated this or fight. Fight like there’s no tomorrow…because there are no guarantees I’m making it out of this alive. Not if it’s up to them.
Though you might wonder how I found myself in this bind. That’s something I would love to know myself. Nothing I’ve done warranted such a sentence.
But I can tell you when things began unraveling. Maybe we’ll make sense of it together.
It all started yesterday morning. Like any regular Friday, I was having breakfast with my grandmother while she read her paper and I scrolled through a slew of new tabloid articles about me on my phone. Yet, something made me more anxious than usual. Call it foreshadowing, but I was restless. And it had little to do with all the unflattering articles regarding me. I was used to it by now.
To the press, I was Adeline, the ditzy blonde artist wannabe, heir to a multimillion-dollar pharmaceutical empire. A rebel without a cause, just like my mother. In reality, that was so far from the truth that it never felt like it was me they were talking about.
The only thing my mom and I had in common was the fact that both of us were carbon copies of my grandma, who, at the respectable age of eighty, was still very much a babe. Well, not exactly, but you know what I mean.
However, in her youthful days, Alitta Roberts was the epitome of the femme fatale syntagm. She most definitely had it all: ethereal beauty, a witty mind, and the Midas touch when it came to making money. She took the business world by surprise, charming her way through any locked doors, grabbing any opportunity by the neck, and then bringing it to its knees. Anything she set her eyes on, she went after with the force of a hurricane: unpredictable and unstoppable. I like to think that’s the one thing my grandma passed on to me. I mean, other than spectacular genes.
Sure, it would have been nice if that package deal came with ten percent of her biz flair; that would have made our lives so much easier. Unlike my mom, I would have loved to be my Nana’s right-hand woman, learning all the ins and outs from her.
And I tried with all my might, shadowing her since I was a teen, spending all my free time in her office, and picking her brain each chance I got. But in the end, despite acing the theoretical side, in regard to the nitty-gritty of rubbing elbows, reading the room, and striking the best deal, I was absolutely clueless.
Huh, could it be that I’m actually the airhead everyone thinks I am? As if sensing that I was yet again on the brink of spiraling into a panic attack, Nana got up and grabbed my hand, then smiled warmly back at me.
“You are perfect just the way you are, my darling,” she softly told me. “Never let anyone tell you otherwise.” Then she pulled me into a hug, and with one last forehead kiss, she went about her day. And this was all it ever took to instantly feel better.
With my confidence restored, I chased away the cloud of insecurities, got back to my studio, and resumed my painting. Losing myself in my art is what gets me through most days, and this was no different.
Then, in the blink of an eye, it was evening, and Lory and I were walking hand in hand into a loud, crowded party, wishing I was anywhere but there. And because I didn’t want to disrupt the vibe with my bad mood, I resumed my people watching instead, counting the minutes till I could leave.
“Earth to Adeline! What has got you so lost in your thoughts?” Her shrill voice pierced the noise around us. “You seemed miles away. Actually, never mind; tell me later. I saw some hotties in the corner; they just walked in. Work your magic and have them over. This was starting to get boring.”
Snapping out of my rambling thoughts, a blue set of eyes were staring back at me with a puzzled look. Framed by perfectly styled jet-black long hair and porcelain skin, she is my exact opposite, appearance-wise. All in all, she is undeniably a beautiful woman. And my best friend. Actually, no, she is more than that. Lory is my ride-or-die.
We practically grew up together since her father was my grandma’s accountant. To Lory, who was raised by a single father, Nana was just as much of a mother figure as she was to me. Having her in my life was a blessing, and I was so happy that she just gets me—the real me.
However, my best friend is way more extroverted than I will ever be. I can’t say having the spotlight on me was really my jam, but being who I am, that was a given regardless. Lory, on the other hand, thrived when she had all eyes on her, and I never minded helping her shine. I wasn’t really in a party mood last night, but she convinced me to go out and check out this new, up-and-coming fancy club. Chill house parties—where you could actually talk and see people—were more my speed, and I dragged her to enough of those, so I kind of owed her.
“Sure, Lo,” I replied, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “First, let’s grab some drinks. I need to release some of this pent-up stress on the dance floor. And I definitely wanna get my buzz on before dancing.”
“Girl, what you need is to have your chimney swept,” she all but yelled. “When was the last time you screamed your voice raw thanks to a rando with a huge dick?”
That made me spit out the last remaining drop of my cocktail, then subsequently burst out laughing, before finally embarrassedly answering, “You know damn well I’ve never had that happen to me. And that’s not my M.O. I need more than fleeting nights. And since Bruce…well…”
“Adeline Marie Roberts, you’re telling me that since you broke up with that fuckboy Spruce a year ago, you’ve been…abstinent?” She spat as her face scrunched in disgust. “I thought you were just shy with me or ashamed of your sexcapades, but this is worse than I thought. Bitch, how are you still alive?? I could never…” she ended, as a shiver of repulsion racked her body. She can be so extra sometimes, but that was not the time or place for her theatrics.
“Lower your voice, would you?” I said, pulling her closer to me, trying to silence her before any more of my secrets got broadcast for the entire club to hear. Then I added, “The gossip column has enough printed material about me as it is. And it’s not like Bruce was some sort of sex guru, anyway; I mostly did all the work, so there’s not much of a difference now. I have my toys. They keep me…afloat.”
“Nope, tsk tsk. We have to end this dry spell tonight, and getting some BDE up in you is exactly what the doctor ordered. Wait here. I’m going to do some recon.”
And she was off before I got any say in it. The truth is, when Lory set her mind on stuff, it was hard to reel her in; you just had to go with the flow. That was mainly the reason we got into so much trouble together. It’s also something I admired about her: she always knew how to get her way and have her needs met, even if she had to bend the rules a little. That, combined with the fact that she is a math whiz, would have made her a perfect candidate for the CEO position my grandma was currently occupying. We both pitched that idea to Nana several times, but she always politely declined it, saying that the board would make Lory’s life unnecessarily hard.
Then the dreaded phone call came in… Looking back on last night, I wish it would have ended with me faking an orgasm in some random guy’s bed before I went back to sip my morning coffee with my grandma. Hell, I would have even agreed with whatever ridiculously wild idea Lory might have had for the afterparty. Or maybe if I had just headed home or never gone out in the first place…maybe if I had been there, I could have saved her.
However, there’s one thing I know with absolute certainty: last night, Nana wasn’t the only one who died. Old Adeline, the ditzy blonde, with her naivete and ingenuity, was gone as well. It was a must if I were to stand any chance of getting out of this alive. And I’m about to risk it all.
