Falling For His Dirty Trap

Hillary

Optimistic—that's the word that could sum up everything I feel right now. My life is pretty great. I got engaged a month ago, and I proudly wear my boyfriend—I mean, my fiancé's—ring every day.

I'm still not used to it.

Jake and I have been dating for four years. The rude, bad boy I had a heated argument with on the very first day of class in my third year in college is now the same man I'm going to marry.

It feels like a dream come true.

Dragging my suitcases behind me, I step out of the airport and try to flag down a taxi that will take me "home." Can I even call this place home?

Boston feels like an entirely different world compared to Utah. Honestly, if someone showed me pictures of Boston and told me it was New York, I'd probably believe them. The tall buildings, the energy, the aesthetic views—it's all so beautiful.

No wonder Jake wanted us to settle here.

Every time Jake and I talked about marriage, he'd mention how he wanted us to build a life in Boston. Now that we're actually getting married, we're making it happen. Literally working toward it.

Jake has a great job with great pay. Me? Not so much. My last job was wack, and I endured it for two long years. But we want a big wedding, a beautiful house, and a future we can be proud of. Which means we can't just rely on Jake's income—I need a job too. I want one.

Luckily for me, Jake really is an angel in my life. He got me a position working for his older brother, Bentley Brown. Jake and Bentley aren't close—for a lot of reasons. In fact, I've never even met Bentley. But somehow, Jake reached out to his brother for me, because he loves me.

And it's not just any job—it comes with a free apartment and a great salary. Plus, Bentley is basically Boston's arrogant billionaire, so this is a huge opportunity I'm grateful for.

"Hi," I wave at the taxi driver.

He smiles modestly while I dig through my purse for my phone, pulling up the address I need.

The driver glances at the screen, then raises his brows.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing. You're headed to one of the most beautiful penthouses in Massachusetts," he says with a smile.

Penthouse?

Fuck. I've never even been in one.

And now I'm going to live in one?

He hands my phone back, then helps load my heavy suitcases into the trunk before I climb into the back seat. My flight had been canceled and rescheduled for reasons I still don't understand, so now I'm arriving later than expected.

I slouch into the car seat, releasing a heavy sigh. Excitement aside, I'm absolutely exhausted. I packed all night, didn't sleep, and moved my entire life from Utah to Boston.

My phone buzzes in my lap. I glance down at the screen.

The caller ID flashes Georgia—my best friend.

Guilt twists in my chest. I haven't checked in with her, and worse—I'm still lying about the engagement. I know she'll yell at me.

I consider ignoring it, just like I've been ignoring her calls for weeks. But then the driver brakes abruptly, jerking me forward, and my phone slips from my hand.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he apologizes quickly.

When I reach for the phone, I hear Georgia's voice blaring through the speaker.

"If you don't speak right now, I swear I'll fly all the way from Greece and slap you senseless," she snaps.

My heart pounds as I press the phone to my ear, forcing a chirpy tone. "Hey, Georgia."

"Really, Lary? Really? What is going on?" Her voice is sharp, angry—and she has every right to be.

"I know I've been avoiding your calls, but I'm sorry. I got a new job, I moved to Boston, and it's been hectic. I didn't mean to deliberately ignore you," I say, biting my nails nervously.

"Yeah, of course you didn't. Anything else you think I should know?" she asks, her tone razor-sharp.

"Nothing," I lie.

"Do you know why you think it's safer to lie to me about marrying that lying, cheating piece of shit? Because deep down, you know he's an asshole and you deserve better, Lary."

I roll my eyes. Here we go again.

Of course she found out.

"He apologized, Gia. So many times. He showed me he was sorry. We had a fight—he thought we broke up, he got drunk at a party—"

"And then he fucked that stupid girl he calls his best friend. How do we even know he wasn't sleeping with her the whole time? Jake and Jackie are shady, and you know it. But you keep covering for him. You know why he proposed? Guilt. He wants to lock you down. He knew you'd forgive him and say yes. And guess what? You did."

Her words cut sharp, but she doesn't stop.

"We used to talk every day about our future—how much we wanted men who adored us. You always said you wanted someone like your dad. So why are you settling for cheating Jake Brown? Why—"

The call cuts out. I drop my head into my palm, groaning.

Georgia has always been like this. Even before Jake cheated, she was suspicious of him. But I know Jake. He would never intentionally hurt me.

That night I caught him with Jackie, I thought my whole world ended. But he explained—they were drunk, and we'd had a huge fight days earlier. I didn't think we were broken up, but he did. And he's sorry.

Georgia doesn't get it.

I can't just dump Jake for one mistake.

I love him. And he loves me.

She's on her honeymoon with her rich, arranged husband. She should understand that I love Jake Brown with every fiber of my being.

"We're here, ma'am," the driver says, pulling me from my thoughts.

I swallow hard, pushing Georgia's words out of my head as I step out of the car.

"Woah." I freeze at the sight of the magnificent, towering building before me.

I get to live here?

Wow.

I pull my things from the car and stand in front of the building, heart pounding. In a few minutes, I'll meet Bentley Brown—Boston's most arrogant, proud, self-absorbed billionaire.

And honestly? It scares me a little. But I've promised myself I won't take offense to whatever he throws at me. I'll deal with my crackhead boss no matter what.