IT TOOK all Doris' life force not to laugh her lungs out. The look on Brad's face was epic. It was one to be captured, printed, enlarged, and hung in a museum as the emblem of shock. It was a look of pure, unadulterated astonishment, the kind that could make even the most jaded person do a double-take. Doris took a quick look around the living room. Things didn't seem to have changed that much around here, she thought, nodding in acknowledgment. The living room was a study in contrasts, its sophisticated decor interspersed with the adorable and the whimsical. On one wall, a gorgeous oil painting hung in an ornate gilded frame, its colors rich and vibrant. On the opposite wall, a row of childlike drawings hung from tiny clothespins, their crayon strokes haphazard and uneven. In the corner, a plush toy monkey peered out from a giant potted plant, its tail curling around the leaves like a vine. The couch was upholstered in a deep, rich velvet, its cushions plump and inviting.

DORIS PUSHED the buzzer to the Evan's Mansion, waiting patiently for someone to get it. She could be written down as the most unfilial daughter in the history of unfilial daughters. She officially earned it. She felt guilty how she'd never reached out to her father all those years. Not even once. She wouldn't even blame him if he released wolves and lions on her. She punched the buzzer again. Twice. Why was no one answering? They'd probably seen them from the surveillance camera. She glanced at her son who was rocking on his feet, fidgeting with excitement and impatience to see his grandfather for the first time. At that moment, the door swung open and the grinning face of Nanny Nancy whom she'd missed so much, greeted them at the entrance. "Nanny Nancy!" Doris screeched, falling into the older woman's outspread arms with enthusiasm. Nanny Nancy was nothing but her true mother. She was the only one who had made her feel what motherly love was all about

IT WAS TIME! Time to set her revenge plan in motion! And number one on her list of how to defrost a frost lord's stone-cold heart was. . . GET HIS ATTENTION! Getting her revenge was what she could think about now and there was no perfect way to execute her plan without melting Brad's heart first. And melting his heart was about the toughest thing to accomplish in the world right next to climbing Mount Everest. Which was why she needed to get closer to him, pretend to be interested in his interests, and force her way through that icy wall. Doris had utilized the past few weeks to assemble significant information—in fact, all kinds of information, that she could get her hands on about Brad. Which included his work, recreation, daily activities— name it. The goal was to feign enthusiasm for what he liked or did on a regular as an excuse to spend more time with him. But honestly, there wasn't much this man had an interest in. She'd made a list of his daily routine whi

THE WARM autumn breeze blew through the air, carrying with it the scent of adventure, and as Doris breathed it in, she felt a spark of something new ignite within her. Her eyes glowed with a wild light, and a smirk played on her lips as if she had a secret that the world could never know. She walked with a purpose toward The Bruces, her movements radiating confidence and determination. The curve of her plumped lips morphed into a smile from the heat she noticed burning in Brad's green eyes. He looked hot in that golf attire, by the way. Sizzling, charring, extra-hot! She thought. Like, how was it even possible a t-shirt and pants looked as sexy as—if not more sexy than—a well-tailored suit on a man? This man was sculpted differently. "Brad?!" Doris blinked as if she was shocked to see him there. And then, she turned her attention to the rest of The Bruces. "Hello!" "Hello," They vocalized in harmony. Grins spread on each of their faces as they gave Brad meaningf

SHE WAS DRIVING HIM CRAZY! THAT WOMAN WAS DRIVING HIM NUTS! Blinded by irateness, he stormed passed Mrs. Hopkins who was offering him a towel, her eyes were filled with pity and a little bit of amusement. She'd been at the window, watching everything unravel, all the more mortifying for him. Pushing through the master bedroom's door, Brad headed straight for the ensuite bathroom, peeling off his soggy clothes, violently, from his body. How can one woman be so infuriating? How can one person in not less than a month drive him this crazy? He was convinced that she was intentionally torturing him. The night before, he had returned home from a meeting, only to discover that his shoes had somehow become glued to his feet. It was a perplexing and frustrating situation, to say the least. He tried to peel the shoes off but to no avail. No amount of tugging or pulling seemed to work. He was stuck, quite literally. It took strenuous and painful effort to finally separat