Forgotten Chance: Book Three (Forgotten Trilogy) Read online

  Hot and steamy-or- Sweet and sensual.

  You are reading the original erotic version

  Rated ‘R’

  18+.

  The softer version is available

  with no explicit sexual situation

  or extreme graphic language.

  The PG version, the same intense story

  with a fade to black sensual style.

  Forgotten Chance

  By Virginia Wine

  Book Three in the Forgotten Series

  She’s said yes, and now Bryer and Nathan ask you to share in their celebration of love in their upcoming nuptials. But things aren’t always what they seem. A lethal plot has been brewing behind their backs, sabotaging their happily ever after. Unprepared for this scenario to tear them apart and threatening their future, things between Nathan and Bryer begin to unravel. A story of love, a story of intrigue. But can they move forward when their anchored to the past?

  FORGOTTEN CHANCE-The original

  Copyright © 2020 by Virginia Wine

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover by Passion Creations by Mary Ruth

  Cover design by: Passion Creations by Mary Ruth

  Formatted by: Formatting Done Wright

  Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The eBook version may not be resold or given away to other people unless this version is part of a lending program. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  Printed in the United States of America

  2020

  To my biggest supporter who looks down on me with the purest of love.

  My Mother.

  A special thank you to express my gratitude to

  Ann Marie, Lisa Way Stinson, Ann Purnell Medrano, Deborah Lane, Michele Henderson McMullen, Jennifer Vonarx and Nicole Rizzo.

  Whose friendship, loyalty and objectivity played a vital part in the creation of this new journey.

  Thank you!

  To all the readers:

  Every time you leave a positive review for an author.

  You become that little voice in her ear that whispers,

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Sneak Peek – Surviving Eden

  Years ago, I fell in love, or at least I thought I did. I’d come to realize that what I loved was the idea of him, the idea of being in love with him, the romance, the promise of a future together, it all seemed so magical. Always giving unconditionally, I opened the door to my heart and let love in. But not him, he never really loved me. He betrayed my affection, broke my trust and watched as I fell from the highest mountain, my wings broken, hitting the ground exploding into a million pieces.

  And the only reason I’m able to say this was because now I actually loved someone substantially more. Now the empty feeling between my heart and diaphragm was filled again. I recovered from a really tough breakup; a betrayal. And trust wouldn’t come easy. I was picking up the shards of what was left and rebuilding my soul.

  When I met Nathan, we became friends. We had the same interest the same passions, the same sense of humor. We grew close and soon it evolved into something more. Then over time I found I was a different person with him, trusting, open willing to share my life. And once I knew who I was, who I wanted to be I found myself again.

  My life was no longer behind me, but moving forward. He was the one, and once I opened up nothing would ever be the same. Perhaps that was the lesson of the story, to believe, and never give up on love.

  “What’s taking you so long?” Gen asked

  “Thanks for your patience, I’m almost ready.”

  I picked up the front so I wouldn’t trip. Then stepped up onto the platform standing in front of the three-way mirror.

  “That’s a lot of dress.” I said, wrinkling my brow.

  “Wait a minute. Is that a hoop I see? Dear Lord, Bryer, there is nothing sexy about a hoop dress.”

  Details, I was drowning in details. When I looked back years from now, what we said when we promised to build a life together mattered more to me than the color of the bridesmaid’s dress.

  “What I really want is to just show up and get hitched.”

  Gen gasped and covered her mouth with one hand. “Like hell.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Look at me like I’m crazy.”

  “Then don’t act like it.”

  I’d rather spend my time focused on the wedding ceremony. Feel the emotions together, and in that moment of unity proclaim promises and wrap myself up in our words. It was the start of our life together and all the outside noise would fade into the distance.

  “In the first place, it’s a beach wedding, not Gone with the Wind.” She said then threw her hands in the air. “I envisioned a strapless gown flowing, with a small train and maybe a veil or flowers in your hair.”

  When we arrived at the store, we sat on a pink velvet couch, and I immediately texted Nathan. ‘This feels like I’m waiting to get a pap smear.’ I watched other brides as they came and went marveling at their choices. They all seemed so excited. Meanwhile, I felt like I was about to projectile vomit into one of the matching handbags. Then it dawned on me, they’d all dreamt of this day since they were five and created Barbie and Ken’s first of many nuptials. I on the other hand popped the head of Barbie only to find out once you decapitate a Mattel toy it remained off indefinitely.

  “You’re a very bossy maid of honor, maybe I should have shopped around.”

  “You’re stuck with me. Who else would tell you this dress sucks?”

  So, in truth, I totally agreed the dress was awful. It couldn’t get any worse than this pile of gadanza. And as someone who prides herself on being fully prepared for the absolute worst-case scenario at all times, I wasn’t going to be anything less than one hundred percent satisfied.

  “By the way, you are not picking my maid of honor dress.”

  “Fine.”

  But I’d veto anything that fell in the neon category. We walked through the store with the consultant glued to our hip, completely unaware of our vision. Clearly wedding dress shopping wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.

  “Can we see several o
ther styles, more appropriate for a destination wedding on the beach?” Gen asked.

  “Of course.” She offered a half-smile but no eye contact, and then disappeared into the back room, only to return with a dozen gowns.

  “I get final approval.” Gen hollered as I stepped back into the dressing room. Stripping down in front of the consultant, a.k.a complete stranger, this time she literally measured every part of my body. The first several dresses ranged from cringe worthy to downright inappropriate. Feeling annoyed and frustrated I peeked out towards Gen.

  “How many dresses do I have to try on?”

  “Until we find the one.”

  Finally, after several failed attempts I found a contender and instead of feeling exasperated I was feeling optimistic. Then stepped out onto the platform once again.

  “Oh my God, it’s perfect.” By some miracle I’ve pleased brides-maid-zilla. Finding the one, the perfect gown. It was both casual and glam.

  “You’ll be turning a lot of heads.”

  “That’s unlikely.” I said looking wary. “Anyway, there’s only one head I’m interested in turning.”

  I’m going to be Nathan’s wife.

  After solving the world’s problems, in fashion, we chose the bouquet of flowers, and emailed the design to the hotel in Hawaii where they would duplicate the spray. We then walked around the corner to El Margo’s Mexican restaurant, and ordered margarita’s and their famous chicken enchiladas.

  It was just past lunch when we paid and got up to leave. My eyes crossed the restaurant, but I was stunned into silence, I skidded to a stop causing Gen to slam into my back.

  “What the hell, Bryer?”

  I watched her gaze shift over to the booth where Walker and some skeevy-looking woman were pushing the limits of PDA.

  “No wonder he hasn’t been answering my calls.”

  I stood in place my eyes locked on Walker and this girl. The spinning came to a screeching halt and after a few minutes of feeling I was in a vegetable state, I waited for the pathetic excuses to begin. But Gen knew what she was doing and walked right up to the scene as if the whole world was just too much effort.

  “This isn’t what it looks like.” He said, in a panicked voice, his eyes clouded with fear.

  “Really. Then what is it, exactly?” She asked with a look of disbelief. Gen just stood rooted to the spot. His skank was staring at Walker with crazy eyes all the while he kept saying he was sorry. My heart was in my stomach and it felt like a ticking time bomb would explode any minute.

  “I’m done and when I say it’s over, I’m saying I’m through with you.” She said, and turned with a serious look that broke my heart. She invested a lot of herself in relationships, and it wasn’t enough for a man like Walker. We walked for ten minutes, maybe more but tears never fell. A storm threatened overhead and she still hadn’t spoken. Not because she was timid but because she was processing.

  “Before you start blaming yourself, Gen.”

  “Why would I blame myself?” She said coldly. “I mean, shit—he cheated on me.”

  She was surprisingly graceful, and not at all screaming and crying, no snot ran from her nose, at least not yet. She made me look like I missed the memo on how to get over being cheated on with any kind of dignity. But dignity was overrated, I knew from experience there was nothing worse than catching your partner in the act, it was the worse pain I’d ever felt.

  I bet behind closed doors Gen would be going through the exact same stages of grief and getting over her pain just like the rest of us did. And when we’d get home, we’d chug white wine straight from the bottle. I’d offer to fight Walker if she wanted me too, kick his ass to the curb if she’d only asked.

  “It’s like I don’t even know who my boyfriend is anymore, maybe I never did.” She glanced my way. “Or, maybe monogamy just wasn’t his thing.”

  What?!?

  I was waiting for the blood-thirst to set in, anything could set her off. Expecting the adrenaline to kick in, plotting a devilish far-fetched revenge scenario. Where was that girl?

  “Walker willfully treated your trust like a doormat.”

  “Carrying around hatred only makes your soul hateful.”

  Oh God, she was in denial, none of this was true. She was pretending to be all Zen-like and forgive-y. That would last a week if she was lucky. I knew Gen, inevitably she would start swearing a lot and would retaliate by tire-slashing.

  “It’s okay to hate him, I mean fucking hate him forever.”

  Her face dropped, she was in the thick of it, anger, sadness and pain were the only lenses she could see through, and clarity wasn’t something she would have when facing the ugly monster of betrayal. She’d soon feel the pangs of anger that seep deep below the surface. Falling victim to her cheating lover, she was hiding the sadness that would render her heart broken in the end.

  The worst thing about getting cheated on is that the pain doesn’t end when the infidelity does, or even the relationship. Once I found out I was betrayed, I kicked the loser out of my life and found myself alone, now left to face a whole new seemingly insurmountable challenge; getting over being cheated on.

  “I don’t hate him, I pity him.”

  “That’s right.” I said. “Remind yourself how fabulous you really are. And one day you’ll get to the point where you realize that your ‘care’ percentage meter will be so small that there will barely be a decimal to describe it.”

  “What are those, words of wisdom?”

  “Words of experience.”

  What I did know was healing from being cheated on was different. This wasn’t just a break up pain, it was, but it was so much deeper. Then finally when I refused to let being cheated on define me, it stopped changing me for the worse. Especially in a world where bitterness and hatred ran rampant. She just needed to believe it and trust the hurt and betrayal would be replaced with just being her again, and everything would be fine.

  I hadn’t slept much the last few days, but that was another matter entirely. I was back at my apartment packing, surrounded by cardboard boxes and unadorned walls. Awaiting a new life with my new roomy and husband to be. The sun had set highlighting the unfiltered light that streamed through the bare windows.

  The journal sat in view, beckoning me to touch its bindings; hear her voice, even if it brought me sorrow, it was an extension of her deepest emotions and I couldn’t fight the connection. This, this was a choice.

  I would have done anything to keep her safe from harm, but I couldn’t protect her, I couldn’t save her. I could only be there when she fell but cancer took her. I could only watch when she reached the stars and the heaven above. And I believed that one day we would meet again.

  Happy Birthday to Bryer, she was one yesterday and we threw her a party, she was so beautiful and happy, her light hair and green eyes melted everyone’s hearts. Our parents came and my father once again embarrassed me, he brought alcohol and proceeded to drink himself into a stupor.

  I pulled my mother aside and asked her about her arm and why it was bruised, she had never lied to me in the past, but her shame and embarrassment was clear and her story unbelievable. “I tripped on the steps and had a slight fall.” This was the first lie, of many to come.

  Guilt took hold, how was I supposed to help when she wouldn’t face the truth herself. Guilt over the happiness I felt living my own life full of joy. It seemed so unfair to witness her life fall apart. I knew his behavior had worsened since I moved out. Was it because I wasn’t there to witness it anymore? I wanted to help but I didn’t know how.

  David said that once the pain became too much, she’d reach out to us, and we’d be there for her, but we couldn’t force the issue. He was right.

  It filled my heart, knowing he wanted to be her hero. He had grown into such a loving and caring father and husband. He promised our future was bright, and I believed him.

  I haven’t shared this with anyone but we want another baby a brother or sister for Bryer, but so far
it hasn’t happened. I knew it would they will come when the time was right. We would just have to keep trying.

  Mary

  I sat, legs outstretched on the hard wood floor and closed the journal. She never did have that second child. I was feverishly wiping away the tears that started rolling down my checks. I dropped my head into my hands. I missed her, missed sharing my life with her. She was a place to simply dwell in those special moments, and even though it brought sadness these new memories would transform me into this new way of connecting.

  A typical day began at eight and ended at four thirty, most projects required my input as the new director. Even though my new position came with many perks, I decided to retain my old office to be seated near my team, which required communicating with my colleagues throughout the day.

  I was interested in what they had to say, and likewise they respected my opinions and my new leadership role. Nurturing a cohesive team was half the battle, but I also had to know how to lead without unintentionally knocking someone’s input off the table.

  But this was no ordinary day.

  “The latest gossip just hit,” Jake said peeking into my office. “Interested?”

  “Okay, spill.”

  “Thane, Mr. Kingsley has received an offer to buy him out.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.” The thought hit me like a ton of bricks. “Thane’s the kind of owner that loves his company, cares about his job, respects his employees, even gives back to the community.”

  I needed to speak with Thane, today. I needed to dig deeper, any piece of gossip got passed around with widespread inaccuracy, people spread rumors for sport and it was a common occurrence here.

  “Where did you hear this?”

  “His secretary.”

  “Well, that is a reliable source.”

  There was something in the air, Jake stopped talking and just left which caused red flags to fire up. Where was the banter, the friend that made me laugh out loud? I caught a fleeting stiffening of his face but then he forced a weak smile, when he glanced over his shoulder. I guess he was taking the news harder than I anticipated. Today job security was not to be taken for granted.