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What Trust Can Do
publish date:
2026-05-31 01:13:56
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The Wrong Bernardi eat your forest
Dinner was not a big production. I was too tired to put together anything Mama would consider photo-worthy. On the table, there was arroz con pollo I had made quickly with leftover roast chicken, sliced avocado with lime and salt, yesterday’s maduros reheated, a little tomato salad, and a bowl of steamed broccoli sitting plainly in the center of the table like a defendant who already knew life was about to get difficult.Aiden climbed into his chair. He looked at his plate.Looked at the broccoli.Then his whole face changed.His lower lip pushed out a little. His black fringe fell into his eyes. His shoulders dropped, and he stared at the green vegetable like it was the villain from his nightmares.“Mami.” That tone.“What?” I was pouring water into a glass.“There’s a tree on my plate.”“That’s broccoli,” I said.“It’s a little tree.”“Good, then. Now eat your forest.”Aiden looked at me with those huge blue eyes that could usually bend the laws of physics, vendor contracts, and the
The Wrong Bernardi love, glitter, and minor felonies
Sunset on the Los Angeles coast had a deeply rude way of looking peaceful while my life was busy trying to yank open every secret drawer at once.The sky had turned peach, lavender, and pale gold over the ocean. Waves rolled in over and over, breaking against the sand as if they had no concern whatsoever for vendor access, carriage houses, Gracie being far too kind, or Rhysand Bernadi standing beneath those massive wooden doors earlier with a stare that had never touched my phone and somehow still felt like it had read the entire screen.I had been home for almost an hour. I had thrown my heels into the mudroom with personal resentment. The dark green silk blouse was gone, replaced by a black sports bra, an oversized white shirt I had left open, leggings, and running shoes that had not seen serious exercise in years unless walking to the front door for a package counted.My body felt a little heavy. Not in a dramatic way. More in the way of a twenty-seven-year-old woman who had appare
The Wrong Bernardi satin ribbon boundaries
I opened my mouth to end the call.I really did.My thumb was already moving toward the red button.But Gracie had leaned in beside me and smiled toward the screen, though she still could not see much with the phone held close to my body.“Hi,” she said softly. “I’m Gracie.”Aiden sucked in a breath like he had just discovered a brand-new audience.Oh no.No.That child would show off for a tree if it expressed mild interest.“Hi, Miss Sunshine!” he shouted.Gracie laughed so hard I almost dropped my phone. “Miss Sunshine?” She touched a hand to her chest. “I love that.”“Because your hair is yellow,” Aiden explained seriously. “Like my car lights.”Oh God.Gracie looked even more charmed. “Thank you. That’s the best compliment I’ve gotten all day.”“I have a car!” Aiden immediately slapped the steering wheel. “Look! It’s red. It’s fast. It has a seat belt. And this is the horn.”“Aiden, don’t.”BEEP.Gracie laughed again.I turned the phone slightly, just enough for her to see Aiden
The Wrong Bernardi i loved him louder than i could hide
I closed the venue notes before the paper became Casa Valdierra’s first casualty.“Carriage house?” I asked.Gracie nodded immediately, still looking half exhausted from the diplomatic war with her mother. “Please. Before she calls again and asks if we can hang chandeliers from the olive trees.”“If she asks, the answer is no.”“What if she says they’re small chandeliers?”“No.”“What if she says they’re Murano?”“No, but with an Italian accent.”Gracie laughed, and for a few seconds, the air felt light again.Almost.Rhysand walked on Gracie’s other side, not too close, not too far, his hair slightly disheveled from the ocean wind, his face once again arranged into that of a man who had never done anything except stand in expensive places and make the architecture feel insecure.I did not look at him.I was busy.That was a very good sentence. Almost believable, if my body had not still been remembering the shape of his palm against my waist with the loyalty of a traitor.The carriag
The Wrong Bernardi i’d take the stone over you
The cellar was too narrow to serve as a main event space, but it could work for a limited tasting with a handful of VIP guests. I noted the safe capacity, ventilation, and a second staircase that appeared to lead into a service passage.The guest wing had six large suites overlooking the ocean, two smaller rooms for personal staff, and a sitting room with a balcony beautiful enough to make bridesmaids forget they were quietly competing with one another.Gracie immediately chose one of the suites for getting ready.I checked the natural light, the distance to the bathroom, and the width of the doorway.“This works,” I said. “But every dress needs to come up through the service elevator, not the main staircase. If a couture zipper catches on a nineteenth-century railing, I’m walking directly into the ocean.”“We have a service elevator?” Gracie asked.Ellison answered, “Near the kitchen corridor.”“Good. Show me.”We went back down to the main floor and passed through a kitchen larger t
The Wrong Bernardi Growth, Unfortunately
Rhysand stopped a few steps away from us.Gracie immediately reached for his arm, as if the man had not just made several acres of open lawn feel suddenly too small.“You’re late,” she said.“I was here before you.”“Emotionally, you’re late.” Gracie pulled him closer to the edge of the lawn, then pointed toward the two olive trees I had chosen. “Maya says the ceremony shouldn’t be in the center. It should be over there, near those two trees, with the aisle coming through the citrus garden.”Rhysand followed the direction of her hand.I reopened the venue folder and pretended to be deeply fascinated by the diagram for the temporary electrical lines. There was no reason to look at a man who was already standing close enough for his cologne to slip into the air between the scent of lemon leaves and sea salt.“If the aisle starts at the house,” I told Gracie, “the guests will see the bridal party too soon. Coming through the citrus garden keeps the approach concealed, and the transition
The Wrong Bernardi Bad Boy Kiss Better
He picked up his whiskey and took a small sip. It’s too easy. Too controlled. I wanted to disturb him. I wanted to make him lose his flat fucking face. I wanted something tonight to be messy, unmanaged, not wrapped in family and money and shame.“I’m not a good man, Maya,” he said quietly.“I know.
The Wrong Bernardi Tequila and Bad Idea
Late night, I’m at a beachside club with a glass of tequila in front of my face and a bartender looking at me like I’m an expensive potted plant that had suddenly started smoking.His name was probably Kai. Or Koa. Or something very Hawaiian and very undeserving of being dragged into the Bernadi fa
The Wrong Bernardi The Door Was Unlocked
After spending the entire day making sure my wedding did not turn into a disaster with expensive flowers, I finally collapsed onto the bed in my suite, one foot still in a heel and the other already surrendered to humanity.Tomorrow, I’m going to become Mrs. Bernadi.That should have made me blush,
The Wrong Bernardi Bad Reputation, Better Smile
Ricky took my hand and led me through the crowd. A few guests turned to look. Someone called my name. My aunt from Cartagena waved far too enthusiastically.I ignored her.Then I saw Rhysand Bernadi.And the most annoying thing was that Ricky had not been exaggerating.The man stood at the edge of
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