Fake Empire (Kensingtons Book 1)

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and the whole miscommunication at the end was very unnecessary it only lasted for like 2 chapters though so it was fine ig lol Crew straightens with a self-satisfied smirk that makes me pray a punch will mess up his perfect bone structure. If not for me, on behalf of average-looking men everywhere. That sort of symmetry is an unfair standard to be held to. I thought Evan was attractive…until I saw him next to the table’s uninvited guest. Those blue eyes appraise me as he casually props one elbow on the varnished wood of the bar top, mirroring my relaxed posture. Crew swirls a tumbler of what smells like bourbon before he replies. “Or both.”

Look, Scarlett and Crew are wild. He's sort of a sweet playboy... but like he has his grumpiness sometimes. But he is down bad for Scarlett i-- he is there since day one. And I love to see that. I feel like he's more in love with her than she with him lmao. Yeah, they are the "she fell first but he fell harder" trope. I want to stand here and coax another one out of him, which is what convinces me to leave. He’ll be my husband, and this is the first conversation we’ve ever had that encapsulates more than polite small talk. Curiosity is one thing, interest another. Al principio ella no me cayó muy bien era a Little annoying, en este caso ella es la grumpy y este tipo de protagonistas no me gustan suelen prejuzgar y odiar al protagonista sin motivo y sí muchas veces pasaba eso pero no llegó al grado que la llegara odiar.I shouldn’t look over my shoulder, but I do. Crew is standing right next to the glass doors that lead out onto the street. The blonde is nowhere in sight; he either ditched her or she’s waiting outside. Crew doesn’t move or react when he sees me staring at him. He holds my stare for a few seconds before turning and disappearing out into the night. It’s unnerving—because it’s exactly what I would do. In the upper echelons of high society NYC, it’s commonplace to “marry upwards” and Scarlett has always known the inevitability of an arranged marriage and has accepted that, even if she fights against Crew in every way possible once they are together. Establishing a rich x rich & cold x cold relationship, Farnsworth has lured me into the power play between Scarlett and her new husband, Crew Kensington. Both powerful in their own right (although Scarlett’s a little more richer!), the question of who will secede control first leads to a combustible battle for trust, intimacy, and well… love. If there’s one thing I respect about Crew Kensington, it’s his work ethic. For someone who has had everything handed to him his entire life, he appears to pull his own weight at Kensington Consolidated. While wearing an entitled smirk, but still. His father, Arthur Kensington, values success over nepotism. He wouldn’t be grooming Crew for future CEO if he didn’t have what it takes to thrive in the role.

I loved this book. I had FUNNNNN reading it, you know? And that's important. I fully think it doesn't have a very big plot; it's more about the journey and trust between the two characters. To see them grow into a couple couple instead of a marriage that was only for convenience/arranged. I loved both characters and they made me smile and enjoy this story so much! I do highly recommend you reading it if you enjoy the tropes and a billionaire heroine (we don't have a lot of them in romance! we do have a lot of billionaire heroes). Siempre han tenido una relación cordial pero no se conocen, siempre es un simple saludo y ya, pero llega el momento de casarse y es cuando se dan cuenta la realidad de su situación. Who?” Sophie asks, looking up from her phone. She might be more dedicated to her work than I am, which is saying something. I loved watching these billionaire nepotism babies running around, worrying about money like they won't still be millionaires even in the worst case scenario. Rich people are so funny.Crew asking about sex right before we have sex feels strangely intimate. I’ve never discussed the act with other guys I’ve slept with. It just happened. He spins and immediately sets about making my drink, indicating he’s worked here long enough to appreciate Proof’s patrons don’t tolerate being kept waiting. I watch the dimmed lights twinkle off the line of colored bottles behind the bar as another bartender smoothly measures a stream of vodka and squeezes grapefruit atop it.