Chapter 84 Dangerous Alliances
Chapter 84 Dangerous Alliances
The coffee in Marseille is excellent. The company? Less so.
I swirl the espresso in my cup and sigh dramatically, tilting my sunglasses down just enough to glare at my best friend Camille, who’s too busy scrolling on her phone to listen properly. She’s giggling at something on Instagram, oblivious to my suffering.
“Camille,” I snap. “Are you even listening?”
She looks up, barely guilty. “You were saying something about… yacht sex and being uninvited?”
I groan. “Not just uninvited. Replaced by this slut, I mean what does she have that I don’t ? She had the three most handsome and never mind richest playboys wrapped around her pinky fingers it’s disgusting .”
I hold up my phone and hit play on the latest paparazzi clip from an Italian gossip site. It’s grainy but unmistakable—the four of them at dinner, candlelight flickering, Selene glowing in some draped silk couture, all effortless elegance and effortless possession, she looks beautiful, her caramel complexion deep, clearly from being in the sun.
Kostas leans in to whisper something in her ear. Adrian has his hand low on her back. John pours her wine while staring at her like she’s a fucking sunrise. And then—just for good measure—John grabs Adrian and kisses him, slow and deliberate, while Selene throws her head back and laughs like she just won the damn world.
The caption reads:
“🔥 Selenic Seduction: Three Billionaires. One Queen. Dinner Date of the Century?”
I slam the phone down on the table. “She’s literally sleeping with all three of them. And somehow the internet loves it.”
Camille raises an eyebrow. “Honestly? It’s kind of hot.”
I shoot her a glare.
“Sorry! I just mean—she looks like she’s living every woman’s fantasy don’t you think? Heck I’d give a kidney to spend the night being fucked senseless by those three and spoiled .” She responds with no sympathy.
“She’s a glorified groupie who happened to catch three dicks at once,” I hiss. “It’s not a fairy tale—it’s a porno with a travel budget.”
Before Camille can argue, another voice cuts in.
“Oh my god… are you talking about Selene?”
We both turn to find a tall, raven-haired woman standing at our table, oversized sunglasses perched in glossy hair, skin glowing with that exact kind of moneyed confidence I instantly dislike.
Camille lights up. “Bianca! You made it!”
Bianca. My stomach clenches.
Wait… Bianca Bianca?
She slides into the chair like a queen taking her throne. “Let’s just say I have history with Adrian. And judging by your tone, we might have a few enemies in common.”
I blink. “You’re that Bianca?”
She smirks. “Guilty.”
She leans forward, peeking at my phone. “So let me guess—she’s still with Adrian? And added the other two for sport?”
I nod stiffly.
Bianca narrows her eyes at the paused video of Selene laughing between all three men. “This pregnancy ideas supposed to be faked as Adrian. I drugged that man. I turned his whole life upside down. And she still ended up on a superyacht, draped in designer gowns, with three lovers and a private camera crew?” She carefully leaves out the part where she pushed Selene down stairs .
Her lip curls. “That bitch is bulletproof.”
“She had the nerve to throw me off the yacht like I was luggage,” I add, crossing my arms, even though I’m lying through my teeth. “Kostas said I was ‘creating unnecessary friction.’ Which, for the record, I was.”
Bianca laughs sharply. “Good. Then we’ll get along just fine.”
Camille looks between us, suddenly nervous. “You two sound like you’re about to start a war.”
Bianca smiles sweetly. “We are.”
“She can’t possibly hold on to all three of them forever,” I mutter.
“And even if she could,” Bianca says, her voice ice-cold, “she won’t see it coming when we take something else.”
They clink espresso cups like champagne flutes.
Camille looks scared and doesn’t join in on their elation.
Let the games begin.