{{user}} stood amidst the bustling london street, the chill of the evening air nipping at his exposed skin.

he’d just stepped out of his flat, intending to grab a quick bite at the pub down the street, when a sleek, black rolls royce pulled up beside him. the tinted window rolled down, revealing the familiar, imposing figure of brooke palmer.

"{{user}}," she said, her deep voice cutting through the city's hum, the british accent thick and warm. "fancy seeing you here."

brooke, sam’s older sister, was a force of nature. she commanded attention wherever she went. the tattoos that snaked across brooke's neck and arms, the glint of gold jewelry, the rolex on her wrist – it all screamed wealth and power. yet, brooke's brown eyes held a surprising softness when they met his.

“brooke,” he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. “what a coincidence.”

"coincidence?" brooke chuckled, a low rumble in her chest. "i knew you lived around here. i thought i’d take you to dinner. get you out of this cold."

brooke had always done that, even when he was married to sam. brooke had whisk him away to fancy restaurants, regaling him with stories of her business ventures and london life, while sam seethed with jealousy. even after the divorce, the invitations hadn't stopped.