Betrayed Bride: Claimed By The Brother

Julian's hand hovered over the handle of the balcony door.

Francesca held her breath. Her lungs burned.

She was trapped.

If he opened the door, it was over. The merger. Her mother's care. Her revenge.

"Julian," Grafton said.

His voice was weak, raspy. Nothing like the commanding tone he had used on her.

"Father called last night," Grafton continued. "He mentioned some... irregularities on your corporate card."

Julian froze.

His hand dropped from the door handle. He spun around.

"What?" Julian's voice pitched up. "That's... that was for client entertainment."

"He thinks it was for jewelry," Grafton said.

While Julian sputtered, Grafton lifted his hand.

He knocked a heavy crystal vase off the side table.

Crash.

The sound was explosive.

Julian jumped.

"My hand," Grafton said. He gripped his wrist, feigning a spasm. "It seized up. Call the nurse."

Julian looked at the shattered glass with disgust. He looked at his brother with pity and annoyance.

"Fine," Julian snapped. He turned his back to the balcony to pull out his phone.

Francesca didn't hesitate.

She slid away from the balcony door, her back against the wall, moving toward the master closet. She remembered the blueprints she'd reviewed for her father when he was considering a similar property. There was a service access panel, hidden behind the linen shelves, leading to a staff corridor.

She found the panel, her fingers fumbling with the invisible latch. It clicked open. She squeezed through the narrow opening into a dark, dusty passage.

She found the service stairwell and ran.

She didn't stop until she was in her own apartment, three miles away.

She showered for an hour. She scrubbed her skin until it was raw, trying to wash off the scent of Grafton's sheets and the memory of Julian's betrayal.

Her phone pinged.

Sender: Unknown.

Subject: Contract Copy.

It was the PDF.

She opened it. She read every clause.

It was ironclad. If she breached confidentiality, she would owe him five million dollars.

She called her friend Sarah, a contract lawyer. She didn't use names.

"It's a trap," Sarah told her. "Whoever wrote this... they own the client. Body and soul."

Francesca hung up.

She had to go to Faulkner Tower at 2:00 PM. She had documents to drop off for her father.

She walked into the lobby. She kept her head high.

She pressed the elevator button.

The doors opened.

Grafton was inside. In his chair.

Julian was standing next to him.

Francesca's stomach dropped.

"Babe!" Julian smiled. It was the smile of a man who hadn't just cheated on his fiancée.

He pulled her into the elevator. He kissed her cheek.

Francesca stiffened. She forced herself not to wipe the spot.

She looked in the mirrored wall of the elevator.

Grafton was watching her.

His eyes met hers in the reflection. They were dark, amused, and possessive.

"We were just going to look at rings," Julian said. "Grafton wanted to come along. Get some fresh air."

"How nice," Francesca said. Her voice was brittle.

"I want to see what the future Mrs. Faulkner likes," Grafton said.

His voice was polite, but Francesca heard the threat.

Julian's hand slid down to her waist. He squeezed.

Francesca flinched.

Grafton saw it. His eyes narrowed slightly.

He tapped on his phone.

Francesca's phone buzzed in her purse.

She glanced down.

Grafton: My apartment. Tonight. 9 PM. Or I tell Julian where you were last night.

She looked up at the mirror.

Grafton smiled at her. It was a shark's smile.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to hit him.

But she thought of the nursing home bill on her counter.

She typed back.

Francesca: I'll be there. But first, I want Lila to bleed.

She hit send.

Grafton looked at his phone.

He looked back at her in the mirror. He nodded once.

Grafton: Deal.