I know I said one drink, but Mr. DeCaro didn't let me stop. He kept hounding me with question after question and every time I got nervous, I found myself downing glass after glass.

"Now tell me, sweetheart, do you and Brandon plan on having any more kids?"

I choked on the wine, as Brandon reached over, snatching the glass out of my grip as red drops spluttered onto my plate. "That's enough questions father," He gritted out to his dad in an irritated tone before gazing back at me, "I think Cara and I should retire for the night,"

"Of course, I'll have the maids prepare the room," Mr. DeCaro grinned, swirling a glass of alcohol in his hand as he gestured for the butler to come over.

It was then that I realized I may have had a bit too much to drink, everything was slowly starting to spin, and my head felt lighter. The wine was surprisingly nice, but considering the neck-sweltering questions that were being bombarded from the table the whole night, I had more glasses of it than I initially told myself.

"No that won't be necessary, I'll be driving," Brandon replied monotonously as he left his seat and straightened up. I tried to follow in pursuit, but my body felt as if it was not under my command as I sat staring silently at the steak still half-eaten on my plate.

"Nonsense Brandon you'd had a bit to drink, don't be rash and stay the night," Mr. DeCaro objected, ushering the butler to guide us to the room. I didn't want to make it obvious that I was perhaps a little tipsy, so I quickly stood up, focussing my every fiber not to trip as I walked over to Brandon standing beside his father's wheelchair.

Brandon sighed, as he turned to the table full of all of Mr. DeCaro's friends, "My wife and I will be taking our leave, have a good evening," He bid them giving the table a curt nod. The guests acknowledged Brandon's farewell, but he didn't stay for a split second for them to reply.

"Come," He gestured, holding his hand out besides for me to instinctively slip my hand into. He was surprisingly warm, but that was typical of Brandon's soft hands. Exactly as I had remembered.

The butler we had met earlier stood before us, giving us a curt bow as he directed us to the room upstairs in Brandon's Manhattan Villa. I knew this place well, I had been here a couple of times and Brandon's main bedroom was the one upstairs, furthest from the staircase. It housed its own ensuite with an attachment to the back balcony that looked over the swimming pool and acre of land.

It screamed wealth.

But most importantly, we were going to be in the room alone, like we used to when we dated. I walked beside him, in step as I fidgeted with the ring around my finger at the thoughts that were rampaging through my mind.

"Is it possible to have my own room?" I whispered finally, as we walked down the high ceiling corridor. Brandon had let go of my hand as soon as we were out of sight as he sauntered beside me with his hands tucked into his pockets.

Brandon's eyes met mine as he raised his eyebrow, "My father will suspect something if I give you a separate room," He told me frankly while we continued to walk. My footsteps were getting heavier as I struggled to balance on my heels the more we walked.

Crap, the alcohol was really hitting me.

I continued to idle beside him, using all my focus to keep my heels in step, one after the other as I kept up with Brandon's long strides. There was no way I was making it to that bedroom, much less be conscious to spend a moment alone with this man.

I just had to stay as sober as I could until we decided on the sleeping arrangements. I can't risk passing out without knowing where I was going to sleep tonight!

"Cara," Brandon called forth my attention as he stopped in his tracks. I stumbled a bit, not realizing his sudden halt in his step as I turned around to meet his hard eyes.

He studied my face for a brief moment, his oak brown orbs for eyes searching my features with his eyebrows knitted, "Are you drunk?" He asked seriously.

"N-No," I shook my head quickly, forcing myself to subside the tipsy feeling, "I'm fine Brandon…just a bit tipsy," Not taking my answer, his long strides quickly approached me as he grabbed my wrist, yanking me closer to him so that he could inspect me.

My face was probably as red as Bloom's hair, from both the proximity and the champagne that was slowly buzzing in my system.

"Cara, you're drunk," He stated in a low tone, and I half expected him to tell me off for it, or perhaps even be disappointed in it. I could tell from the way his eyes were searching mine indubitably, that he had a look of concern mixed with a hint of annoyance.

He was going to snap at me.

But he didn't, instead, he sighed through his nose, pinching the bridge of it with his free hand, "I'm sorry my father kept hounding you, he's a bit much sometimes,"

"It's fine," I waved my hand dismissively, and laughed despite the awkwardness and my heart hammering in my chest, "It was nice talking to your father, he's a genuine man," Brandon grimaced at my words but didn't add to it any further.

"Are you okay to walk?"

I gazed down at my feet before locking eyes with him again and nodded hastily. He replied with a curt nod himself to acknowledge my answer before he extended out his hand.

I raised my eyebrow quizzical, staring at his open palm that was hanging in front of me, "Let me at least walk you to the room,"

I bit the inside of my cheeks at his words. God, I forgot how tender he was when he wasn't his usual rude self. Could I really catch feelings for this man again? My heart panged at the thought of him being like this just because he must, and not because he genuinely cared.

I shook my head, to both dismiss the intrusive thoughts and to reply to his request, "I can walk," I told him firmly, taking a few steps forward to brush past his extended hand. I wasn't the same person I used to be, I didn't need to depend on Brandon DeCaro for anything. He wasn't there when I needed him, so I don't need him now.

"Cara don't be stubborn," He called after me, taking one stride to catch up to me.

"I can walk Brandon," I insisted, pulling my hand away from his reach as I waved my hand dismissively much to his exasperation. He sighed in annoyance and extended his hand out again in an attempt to stop me from going any further purely on the willpower of my buzzing vision.

Unfortunately for me and this tight dress, my heel got caught in the back of my other foot as I fell forward with a loud echoing tear sound, "I said- WOAH!" I squeaked, feeling my body tilt downwards as I pushed my hands out in front of me to attempt to save myself.

Brandon stepped forward swiftly and gripped my elbow, pulling me back to stop my face from hitting the floor. My back pressed against his chest as I felt my heart rate pound at the close contact. I panted out of the shock, as I heard him sigh, from where he was, his face was practically next to mine as his lips brushed my ear. "Are you okay?"

But I didn't have time to respond as my mind raced through what just happened. One simple fact had slipped my mind, "Brandon!" I gasped, realization dawning on me.

He arched his eyebrow quizzically as I bounded away from him, turning my back out of his sight. I glanced over my shoulder in absolute fear and sulked at the outcome of the back of this beautifully expensive dress.

Right down the middle from the center of the zipper to just where my hips began, the dress had torn right open, revealing my bra and the hem of my underwear.

"Oh my god, I ripped it!" I cried, covering my mouth with my hands at the shock. Brandon's eyebrows raised from the lack of words that he failed to muster. I had ripped the dress! Oh my god! How could I be so clumsy?!

It was so expensive!

"Are you hurt?" He asked, eyebrows knitted together at the theatrical panicking I was doing.

"Brandon, this was $5000! I ripped it!"

He paused, a blank look washing over his face before his eyebrows quivered, stifling a laugh. My mouth fell agape at the amused scoff that escaped his lips.

"That's it? You had me thinking it was expensive,"

What in the-

"Young master, your bedroom is ready," A voice chirped from behind me, and I registered Brandon's eyes widen at the butlers and maids exiting the main bedroom at the end of the hallway, right behind me.

My dress!

Before I had time to react, Brandon had beat me to it. The distance between us closed as he hastily appeared beside me and grabbed my waist. He reeled me closer to him so that my exposed back was now against his abdomen as his left arm secured over my lower stomach to keep anyone from seeing it.

"Thank you," He addressed them, keeping me fastened beside him while his side covered the tear. The 4 people in charge of organizing the room lowered their heads as they quickly dispersed past us.

They smiled at me, nodding to me in acknowledgment as I quickly grinned back as tightly as I could considering my bare back was against Brandon DeCaro's abdomen.

I didn't wait a single second before barrelling into the open doors of the main bedroom, turning my back away from him as I patted down my steaming red face.

"Are you okay?" He asked the moment we were both safely inside the bedroom. Brandon shut the double doors behind us he turned around to face me once he realized, I hadn't given him my answer.

"It's ripped right down the middle," I whispered in a ghastly tone as I craned my neck to see the damage. Curses this dress was so tight, that I couldn't even fit a proper padded bra on, but I didn't expect the darn thing to rip!

Brandon snickered as I faced him with a glare, "Relax Cara, it's just a dress, if you liked it that much, I'll buy you another one,"

Another $5000?! No thanks!

"I was going to sleep in this," I sighed, looking down at the suffocating dress wrapped around my figure. Granted it was extremely tight, I didn't plan to stay the night, so I was hoping to just pave through it for the evening and change when I got back to the penthouse suite.

"There's usually spare clothes in the closet that the maids prepared beforehand," Brandon replied as he took his long strides towards the walk-in closet attached to the main bedroom suite.

I watched him turn the light on in the closet, moments before his jaw tightened in annoyance. I could see the muscles in his cheek tick as he let out an exasperated sigh at the sight before him.

"What is-" I began, appearing beside him when I realized what he was so mad about. The entire closet had been stripped bare, replaced with two bathrobes that read 'his' and 'her' in gold cursive followed by neatly folded lingerie that lay on the only shelf in the entire room that held any sort of clothing. "Oh my god,"

Somewhere, Mr. DeCaro was probably having a glass of wine, snickering to himself about this.

I couldn't keep the blush off my face at the idea of his father trying to plan a honeymoon getaway for us despite not even being married. But Brandon seemed like he was livid over the circumstances. His figure pivoted towards me as he raised his hands and began undoing his cuffs.

"What are you-" I stuttered, realizing he was beginning to unbutton the remaining links that kept his shirt from exposing his upper body.

"It's late and I don't have the sobriety to go get something to wear for the night," He grumbled annoyedly, as he pulled off his shirt from his arms, revealing that tan and defined body of his, "Put this on," He suggested, extending the shirt in my direction.

Oh my god, he's already half-naked and I'm about 7 glasses of wine from being in my right mind!

"Are you going to sleep in that?" I asked dumbly, tucking his shirt between my arms as I subconsciously stared at his physique. I was way too drunk to even keep my eyes away.

He laughed, a soft smirk evident on his lips, "Would you rather I wear less, Cara?"

I glowered at him for his snarky response despite his chuckle. He should at least put on the robe. I didn't wait for him to add another comment before I retreated to the connected bathroom.

I stood in the middle of the marble-lined masterpiece of a washroom, staring at myself in the round gold-rimmed mirror hung over the deep bowl sink. My cheeks were flaming in a red hue that matched the color of my nose. I looked extremely unkempt.

I can't believe I'm drunk for the first time in years! I haven't had even a wine glass since I got pregnant with Nic and yet here I was in a torn dress with my god-carved ex-boyfriend shirtless in the other room.

Not to mention his father's little gift hamper in the wardrobe for more grandchildren.

You really outdid yourself tonight, Stella.

Flicking on the gold-plated faucet, I splashed some water on my steaming face to rejuvenate my sense before patting it dry with the towel. Giving myself another once-over in the mirror I turned to reach for my dress zipper.

Only to realize the tear in the dress was going to make it impossible for me to get out of it on my own.

Can this night just end already!?

Swallowing my pride and dignity, I slowly peeked out of the bathroom hoping to find Brandon at least decently dressed. Surprise, he wasn't. He stood in front of the large king bed; his hand tucked in his pocket while the other was scrolling aimlessly on his phone over what seemed to be like files. Still shirtless, may I add.

"Brandon?" I whispered, barely audible but enough to get his attention as his gaze flickered to me, "Can you please unzip me?"

"So soon Cara?" He jested, tucking his phone back into his pocket and strolling towards me with his award-winning smirk.

"Shut up,"

Brandon laughed, emerging through the bathroom door as I stared at him dumbly. He was a good head taller than me and his broad shoulders, paired with his large biceps never failed to wring my stomach.

"Turn around," He commanded, using his finger to gesture in a circle.

"Close your eyes, okay?"

He sighed, "Cara it's not-"

"Please," I interjected earnestly and he continued to study my face. After a few painstaking moments, he sighed again and nodded.

"Okay turn around then," I tucked my lower lip between my teeth and hesitantly pivoted to give him access to the back of the dress. I could see my face start to turn a deeper shade of red as I watched him step closer to me in the mirror.

He had closed his eyes as he promised but that meant very little control of where his hands went. His hands gently brushed against the small of my exposed back as it found its way to the broken zipper. Not that it was going to reveal anything further than the large rip in the back of the seamline.

I could hear the sound of the zip going down and the feeling of suffocation easing away.

My heart picked up its pace at the feeling of his fingers unintentionally caressing the skin at my lower waist. "There," Brandon's warm breath fanned against the back of my neck as he yanked down the last stretch of the zip. His eyes were still closed, and I didn't hesitate for a second in spinning around to avoid his gaze on my exposed underwear.

His eyelids parted slowly, and those gorgeous chocolate brown orbs peeked through as they concentrated on my face once again. A half-smirk etched his lips as his gaze trained on my own.

God, I really should never drink again! I can't keep my emotions intact in this state!

"Okay, thanks!" I quickly said, turning him around and pushing him out of the bathroom before more unwelcome thoughts flood my head.

No POV

The door slammed shut hastily behind him as Brandon stood with his back to the bathroom. He gazed down at his hands in surprise since Stella had practically kicked him out of the room in embarrassment before a small chuckle escaped his lips.

She was so drunk and flustered, it was ecstasy to see her in that stuttering state she so hated. He had wondered if he should do something else to annoy her while he had the chance but decided against it to avoid aggravating her further in this state of mind.

It took him merely 2 minutes to gather his disheveled thoughts but the bathroom door unlocked before he could even pretend like he wasn't caught standing where she left him.

The door swung open and Stella stepped out, her figure freezing when she realise his shirtless back was right in front of her face. "Are you not changing?" She quickly asked to lighten the tense silence.

"I have to shower," He replied, facing her. He took in the moment to drink her appearance as she stood before him in nothing but undergarments and his shirt. Luckily for Stella, Brandon's muscular frame meant his shirt reached her mid-thighs with nothing exposed.

"Okay," She replied, standing awkwardly by the door as he stood equally lost in front of her.

"Are you going to shower with me, Cara?"

"WHAT?!" She spat, glaring at his amused eyes staring down at her. "Brandon I'm a-"

"You're still in the bathroom, so I assumed you wanted to join me," He interjected coyly.

The flame burning in her honey hazel eyes made his body lighten with amusement. It was so fun to piss her off. Granted they were in their late 20s, it never got old to tease Stella like she was his elementary crush or something.

She rolled her eyes, pushing past him as she stalked away. Once she was a few feet clear of him, she stopped in the middle of the grand room with her hands on her hips.

Brandon couldn't stop his eyes from outlining her figure under his shirt when her hands were stapled to her waist like that. He felt shameless as if she was really his wife. This charade was getting to his head. "Where are we going to sleep?" Stella asked, snapping his eyes back up to her face.

In the bed. He itched to remark but held his tongue. That was enough teasing for the night, he was too tipsy to keep himself in check from overstepping a line.

"Take the bed," He told her, "I'll sleep on the lounge sofa,"

Brandon could see the thought swirling in her eyes, "Won't that be suspicious?"

It was suspicious. But it was even more suspicious to her why he would so openly suggest sleeping in the same bed. They weren't really married. She had a child that wasn't his and he was a renowned multi-millionaire fuck boy trying to keep a charade to save his legacy.

Stella strolled towards the bed, grabbing a couple of pillows off the headrest as she began lining them up down the middle of the king-sized bed. "There," She declared, looking impressed with her antics.

"You built a wall? What are you? Trump?"

She glared at him, "Sleep on one side, I'll sleep on the other," Stella pointed at the separation. It wasn't half bad of a plan, but Brandon didn't know how exactly he was going to fair sleeping next to her with nothing but a pillow separating them.

"As long as you promise not to do anything," Brandon chuckled trying to mask the fact that the idea of sleeping on the same bed made him extremely uneasy with himself.

"Ugh, in your dreams,"

Yes. In his dreams.

Fuck, he was so drunk.


Sorry for the suuuuuper late update. I wrote this ages ago and didn't get a chance to finish it till today! There probably won't be another update for a little bit cos I'm going back to a new semester soon and need some time to get my work straight lol.

See you soon!

- Star :P