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Intrigued (Book 1)

Chapter One

December 21st

"I can't believe my luck!” That's what I’ve been telling myself 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 that I have no idea what the
job entails.

"Is it even legal?" I asked 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 con man 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 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 expansive, 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, it exudes warmth and life.

Finally, I reach a fork in the drive and decide to curve towards the front
of the manor. Bryn hadn't given me 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 agreed I’d arrive 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 sigh heavily as I sink deeper into the driver's seat. I should've planned
my arrival better. But amidst my worries, a question lingers: 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
following year. But she never showed up. I ended up in the same dorm room for
my junior and senior years, but she was still 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.

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

Sitting alone in the buzzing auditorium, I couldn't shake off the feeling of
being an outsider. The room buzzed with girls who had spent their summers in
glamorous chateaus in the Alps or other fancy spots. They chatted about
everything from the posh high schools they attended to gossip about friends who
didn't get into Redmond because of their grades. It seemed like even money
couldn't buy their way in when it came to certain things.

I felt a sting of hurt when a girl with dark hair and huge eyes glanced at
me sharply after mentioning “hobo” yet again.

That's when it hit me: I was the "hobo" in their eyes. The label
stung, marking me as an outsider who didn't fit in. I hadn't been born into
wealth and privilege like the rest of them, and that, it seemed, made me an
easy target for their judgment.

Still reeling from their hurtful and isolating comments, I was taken aback
when a bold girl gusted down my row, plopped down in the seat beside me, and
said, "Don't mind them. They're stinky little bitches with bad breath and
sour vaginas compliments of their cheating boyfriends.”

I gasped in shock. While I appreciated her standing up for me, her language
was quite coarse. Nonetheless, it seemed like her response had wounded the
girls who had been mocking me, and I felt a glimmer of satisfaction.

She introduced herself with a newfound sense of camaraderie, "I'm
Bronwyn Blackstone, but the people I like call me Bryn."

One girl in the group cast a furtive glance our way, careful not to upset
the girl who had just berated her. Clearly, they weren't allowed to call
Bronwyn Blackstone 'Bryn,’ which only cemented her status at the top of the
social hierarchy.

I hesitated when Bryn asked my name before replying, "Holly, Holly
Henderson."

"And where are you from, Holly Henderson?"

I frowned slightly, answering, "Pittsburgh, that's where I ended
up."

Her interest piqued, she asked, "And what does your father do?"

Her straightforwardness took me by surprise. "You're talking about his
job?"

"Yes," she responded, her eyes eagerly awaiting my answer.

Thanks to the support of a compassionate principal, understanding guidance
counselors, and dedicated teachers, I've come to realize that my father's
choices don't define me. "He doesn't do anything,” I said, without a hint
of shame.

She lifted an eyebrow in curiosity. “He doesn’t do anything? What do you
mean by that?"

"He's in prison—again," I explained, rolling my eyes with a hint
of exhaustion.

Bryn's laughter rang out warmly, echoing around us as she threw her head
back and declared, "I like you." Shifting in her seat, she turned to
face me, her expression radiating curiosity. "And you don't know who I
am?"

I leaned back, surveying her with a thoughtful glance, and answered
truthfully, "Should I know who you are?"

A smug smirk played on her lips as she replied, “Maybe. Or maybe not."

Our exchange was abruptly interrupted as Dean Westerly emerged onto the
stage, greeting all the newcomers at Redmond. Before I could utter another
word, Bryn rose to her feet and gracefully exited the auditorium, exuding
confidence as though she commanded the very air around her.

A week later, I walked into what felt like my version of heaven on earth—my
new dorm room. It resembled a luxury apartment, complete with all the amenities
one could imagine: two master bedrooms with attached bathrooms and even a
jetted tub that left me in awe. I checked the tag attached to the key my
student advisor had given me, confirming that this was indeed my assigned room
despite the opulence that seemed beyond my expectations and pocketbook.

"Hey, roomie," a familiar voice called out.

I turned around to find Bryn standing in my doorway, accompanied by a cute
guy with floppy hair and a bad-boy smirk—I later learned his name was Dale
Rumor.

With a smile more self-assured than warm, Bryn declared, "I needed a
roommate, so I chose you."

It didn't take long for me to realize that Bryn had deliberately befriended
me during orientation because she was searching for someone like me—an outsider
with no connections to her world of secrets. I soon discovered that the
Blackstone family's wealth was beyond comprehension, and Bryn was determined to
keep her double life hidden from gossip and scandal.

Bryn's choice of a roommate, it seemed, had worked out in her favor. My
background had ingrained in me a code of conduct—to stay reserved, avoid
causing disturbances, and respect the personal boundaries of others. Bryn, on
the other hand, appeared to have a different guest over almost every evening,
though I never intruded or passed judgment. Some of her visitors would stay the
night, while others would depart after a few hours behind the closed door of
her room. It struck me as odd how quiet they remained throughout their stay.
Yet, I was sure they weren't engaging in sexual activities. I could say with
confidence that Bryn didn't sleep with any of them, with the possible exception
of Dale, although even that was something I couldn't verify.

However, Bryn and I had formed a genuine bond over time. She was a great
listener and always lent an ear as I poured out my heart about the struggles my
parents put me through. In return, she seldom spoke about her family, although
I knew she had a twin brother and two older brothers. Like my parents, her
wealthier yet seemingly unstable parents never bothered to visit. Occasionally,
a woman would come by to check on Bryn, but she remained tight-lipped about the
woman's identity and their relationship.

After graduation, I was taken aback when I received a handwritten card from
Bryn. It said, "Don't worry about paying us back for the dorm. You deserve
to live in the lap of luxury." I had assumed my scholarship covered my
room and board expenses, but it turned out that Blackstone Family Enterprises
had been footing the bill. The revelation astonished me. I couldn't accept such
generosity without repaying them.

Immediately after securing my first position as a reporter, I reached out to
the estate to organize a repayment plan. For the past three years, I have
consistently paid eight hundred dollars each month, working tirelessly to
settle my debt. Now, with thirty-six thousand dollars remaining, I am committed
to honoring my financial commitment. However, Bryn's recent request leaves me
puzzled—what exactly does she expect me to do to resolve my debt? I sincerely
hope it's within legal bounds.

My gaze is still locked on the grand entrance of Blackstone Manor. Knowing
that I'll soon come face-to-face with my old friend feels both thrilling and
unnerving. I wonder if she's changed much over the years. There are no photos
of her on the Internet whatsoever. Last night, I spent hours searching and
couldn’t find even one photograph. Although I’m very skilled at finding what
I’m looking for. Given a few more weeks, I would’ve definitely discovered some
sort of image of Bryn Blackstone. That I know for sure. 

However, my old friend hasn't occupied my thoughts in a long time.
Occasionally, her older brother Jasper’s name slides through my professional
circles, but everyone knows better than to linger on him too long. Well, almost
everyone—a colleague of mine is obsessed with uncovering the dirt she’s
confident the Blackstones are hiding. Regardless, I remember Bryn as a stunning
beauty in college; I doubt that has changed.

"Here goes nothing," I mutter with a sigh. I twist my body and
reach into the back seat, wrangling my thick, long wool coat off the floor.
Then, I dig under the passenger side seat until I feel my purse. "Got
it," I whisper triumphantly. The effort it took to retrieve both items
prompts me to stretch the kinks out of my right arm until... Yikes!

My heart races as I press a hand against my chest while leaning closer to
the car window for a better view of the man standing on the opposite side. Our
eyes meet, and his intense gaze seems to pierce right through me. At that
moment, time appears to slow as I take in the rest of his features. He's a
masterpiece, composed of striking angles and the most captivating lips I've
ever seen. His entire face is simply... breathtaking. The longer I gaze at him,
the more speechless and immobilized I become. It's as if his presence
hypnotizes me, akin to a medallion swaying back and forth, enchanting me
completely.

Finally, the man steps back so we can see each other much better. His
commanding voice shatters the spellbinding silence when he says, "Roll
down the window," while gesturing for me to do so. I take a deep breath to
steady myself and press the button on the armrest, lowering the window.

He stands with his arms crossed, exuding a commanding presence reminiscent
of a highway patrolman about to issue a speeding ticket. "Who are you, and
how did you get through my gates?" he inquires.

I tap my chest lightly and offer a warm smile. "I'm Holly
Henderson." I wait, expecting some sign of recognition at the mention of
my name—assuming Bryn had spoken of me—but his stern expression remains
unchanged. So, I add, "Bryn invited me for the holiday, and..." It's
then that realization hits me like a flash of lightning. I'm face-to-face with
one of Bryn's brothers—and I instantly know exactly which one.

The strikingly handsome man standing outside my car is Jasper Walker
Blackstone, the eldest brother and a potential presidential candidate. My mind
races. Is this the reason I'm here? Does Bryn want me to interview her brother?
Known for my ability to unveil the truth about powerful, often dubious
characters, a positive interview from me could cast him in a pristine light.
This realization fills me with hesitation about the role I'm potentially being
asked to play.

"You're Bryn's friend?" he asks, his tone edged with suspicion.

"Yes," I manage to reply, striving to maintain my calm despite the
surge of adrenaline. "And you're Jasper Blackstone."

His eyes narrow, and though I can't decipher his thoughts, the vibe he emits
is far from welcoming. "She didn't tell me we were having guests," he
states, his tone icy and guarded.

I press my lips together, tempted to comply with that look on his face, and
turn my car around and head back to Philly. But instead, I remain silent,
curious to see how this encounter will unfold. There's something intriguing
about Jasper, something that piques my journalistic instincts even as I tread
cautiously. But what a prick.

"Well, you can't park here," he grumbles, his annoyance evident.
His gaze shifts towards the fork in the drive, the very spot where I had
stopped earlier. “Turn around, go back to the split in the driveway, make a
left, and then take another left at the first driveway you see. From there,
I'll guide you to the garage."

Before I can even thank him for his rather brusque assistance, he walks
away, leaving me slightly taken aback. It seems being hospitable isn't one of
his strong suits. As he passes the iron gates, they open automatically for him,
further reinforcing the impression that he carries himself like a man who
believes he owns the world. And perhaps he does. Yet, I can't deny that he
looks very attractive in his well-fitted casual dress pants and a thick black
winter coat. I catch myself wondering how he smells; I'm certain guys like him
always have an enticing scent.

"Get a grip, Holls," I whisper to myself, trying to quell the
unexplained emotions that are stirring within me. My slightly trembling hands
clench the steering wheel as I execute a three-point turn to follow his
instructions. What's wrong with me? I've encountered men who are just as
handsome and intimidating as Jasper in the past. But there's something about
him that affects me differently, an odd effect I can't quite explain.

***

Tap into a world full of intrigue, passion, danger, and dark mysteries and suspense.

Enter the enthralling realm of the Blackstone brothers, where power is not just their inheritance but their burden.

In “The Dark Billionaire Trilogy,” ambitious Holly Henderson is drawn into the enigmatic Blackstone family’s dark kingdom to settle a debt. There she must navigate the dangerous desires of Jasper Blackstone, a man who always gets what he wants. Caught between exposing his family’s dark secrets and the allure of forbidden love, Holly must navigate a world where truth and temptation collide, risking her heart in a battle where every choice could be her last. 

Books: Intrigued (Book 1), Desired (Book 2), and Claimed (Book 3)

In "The Boss Billionaire Trilogy," Billionaire Spencer Blackstone finds solace in a remote ranch, a place shrouded in dark family secrets. Isolated from the world, only one person, his trusted new assistant, knows his whereabouts. Her presence reawakens long-dormant desires, challenging Spencer in ways he never anticipated.

Books: Tempting (Book 1), Impulse (Book 2), Bliss (Book 3), and Exposed (Bonus Book)

"The Secret Billionaire Duet" The new hunky doctor, who's also my boss, is mysterious, intense, and always watching me. I don't think he knows he's staring, but one sultry gaze from him sets me aflame with burning desire. Then one night, misfortune strikes, and we find ourselves thrust into each other's lives away from the hospital. What follows is steamy, intense, and unpredictable. But I was right about Dr. Jake Sparrow—if that’s even his real name—has secrets, ones that threaten to change both our lives in ways we could’ve never imagined.

Books: Seduction (Book 1) and Embrace (Book 2)

Completing the saga is Destined,  Bryn Blackstone’s story. Having resigned herself to a loveless existence, Bryn finds unexpected hope. Life has healed the scars of her dark past, offering a future free from the misery that plagued the women of her lineage. Yet, a chance meeting in an airport bar on a stormy afternoon sparks a second-chance romance that promises to redefine her destiny.