Intrigued (E-Book)

The Dark Billionaire Trilogy (Jasper Blackstone)

1 - Intrigued

2 - Desire

3 - Claimed

The Boss Billionaire (Spencer Blackstone)

1 - Tempting

2. Impulse

3. Bliss

4. Exposed (Bonus Book)

The Secret Billionaire (Asher Blackstone)

1. Seduction

2. Embrace

Bryn Blackstone's Story

Destined

Intrigued (Book 1)
Chapter One

"I can't believe how lucky I am!" That's what I keep telling myself ever since I accepted Bronwyn Henrietta Blackstone's invitation. She offered me a two-in-one deal—to spend the week before Christmas with her family and take on a project to pay off the debt I owe them. The only catch is, I have no idea what the job entails.

"Is it even legal?" I asked her during our call, feeling a bit annoyed because she seemed to be whispering.

Ever since I first met Bronwyn, it's clear she enjoys being mysterious. Even the way we became roommates at Redmond College remains half-shrouded in secrecy. Redmond, an exclusive all-girls college on the East Coast, is where the wealthy and privileged send their daughters to carry on their blue-blooded family legacies. In stark contrast, I come from humble beginnings. My family's financial struggles were never a secret—I'm the daughter of a conman and a perpetually depressed woman who passed away too soon. But despite all that, school has always been my sanctuary. I have a passion for learning and graduated at the top of my class, which earned me a full academic scholarship to Redmond College.

"Yes, it's legal," Bronwyn whispered, and her response held a hint of offense at my question.

"Okay, then just tell me what you want from me," I insisted, eager for answers.

"I can't. Not over the phone."

"Why not?"

"Holly, please don't make this more difficult than necessary. Trust me, you're going to have a lovely time. Besides, what I need from you aligns perfectly with your expertise."

I frowned, feeling puzzled. "My expertise?"

"Investigative reporting," she revealed.

My eyes widened, and I sat up straight in my chair. "Oh. Okay..."

"I also know that you're an independent reporter. I've read both of your books, 'The Howsley Project' and 'In Defense of Bad Air.'"

"You did?" I asked in astonishment, my voice hitting a higher pitch. I glanced absentmindedly at the large downtown building on the opposite side of the bustling avenue. Bronwyn had done her homework, which wasn't like her unless it served a significant purpose for her.

"Yes, I did," Bronwyn confirmed.

I had sold many copies of my books, but hearing that she, someone from my early days, had read them felt both strange and incredibly gratifying.

"I promise it will be worth your while," she whispered even softer than before, piquing my curiosity even more.

Now, here I am, having accepted her invitation and driven four long hours from Philadelphia to Newport, Rhode Island. I sit in the driver's seat of my modest car, facing the grand entrance of the Blackstone mansion estate. The massive iron gates, adorned with pointy spears and the family crest, slowly open wide, inviting me into their famous and exclusive property.

Nerves flutter in my stomach as I carefully drive past pine trees adorned with glistening fresh snow and wide, pristine lawns, approaching the rustic red stone mansion. It's a sight to behold, with its high, pointy gables that resemble an old church, and picture windows radiating a warm glow across the brick facade. Several chimneys peak beyond the roof like narrow spires, sending smoke billowing into the opaque white sky. Despite the harrowing rumors surrounding the Blackstone family mansion, from where I sit, it exudes an aura of warmth and life.

Finally, I reach a fork in the drive and decide to curve towards the front of the house. Bryn hadn't given me any specific instructions on where to park or what to do upon my arrival. The rush to finish all my assignments before the holidays made me forget to call and confirm the details. All I have is the address and the family gate code. However, we did agree that I'd be arriving between 3:00 p.m. and 5:00 p.m. I glance at the time on the console—it's 3:17 p.m. I park the car in front of a long walkway and peer past the black iron gates that enclose a quaint patio. The front doors remind me of ancient bronze castle gates, looking like they haven't been opened in centuries.

I let out a heavy sigh as I lean back against the driver's seat. I should've planned my arrival better. But amidst my worries, a question lingers in my mind—would I even recognize Bronwyn today? It's been so long since we last saw each other. We said goodbye after our first year of college, expecting to room together the next year. But she never showed up. For junior and senior year, I ended up in the same dorm room, but she was nowhere to be found. I tried calling her several times, only reaching one of the family estate secretaries, who promised to relay my messages to her.

During college, I lived in the most luxurious dorm on campus, which I later discovered wasn't a coincidence. Lost in thought, I stare out through my windshield, recalling the first time I met the stunning, wealthy heiress with her perfect blond ringlets and captivating eyes. It was during our welcome orientation in the main sanctuary, two weeks before classes started.

As I sat alone in the large, buzzing auditorium, I couldn't help but feel like an outsider. The room was packed with girls who seemed to all know each other, as if they had spent summers at some glamorous camp in the Alps or a similar luxurious destination. Their conversations revolved around which expensive private high schools they attended, and there were discussions about some girls who didn't make the cut to attend Redmond due to their grades.

Then came the moment that made me feel like a true outsider. Overhearing a conversation nearby, I suddenly realized they referred to some of us as "hobos." I felt a pang of hurt as the girl with dark hair and strikingly large eyes shot a glare in my direction after making that hurtful comment.

It stung to be labeled that way, to be seen as someone who didn't belong. I hadn't come from wealth and privilege like the others, and it seemed that made me an easy target for their judgment.

Still reeling from the earlier hurtful comment, I was taken aback when a bold girl plopped down in the seat beside me.