Betrayed By Him, Claimed By His Brother

The next afternoon, Kyra finished her last handover at the hospital. Her maternity leave was about to begin.

She walked out of the main building and saw Kieran's black Bentley in its designated parking spot. He was leaning against the car door, a warm smile on his face as he watched her approach.

The sun caught him just right, making him look like a model from a magazine cover. A few young nurses walked by, their heads turning, faint blushes on their cheeks.

A swell of sweet pride rose in Kyra's chest. She walked to him, and he effortlessly took her bag, opening the passenger door for her.

"Tired?" he asked, his voice soft. He carefully fastened her seatbelt, his fingers gentle around the curve of her stomach.

"I'm okay," Kyra replied with a smile. Yesterday's anxieties seemed to dissolve under the warmth of his attention.

Kieran closed her door and walked around to the driver's side. The car pulled smoothly out of the parking lot.

As Kyra reached to adjust the air conditioning vent, a scent hit her. It was unfamiliar, sweet, and cloying. A fruity, floral fragrance. It was absolutely not her own subtle, woody perfume.

Her hand froze. Her heart skipped a beat.

"What's wrong?" Kieran asked, his eyes flicking to her from the road.

Kyra's gaze swept the immaculate interior of the car. Nothing was out of place. She took a slow breath, feigning casualness. "Did you get a new air freshener for the car? The scent is... different."

Kieran's fingers tightened imperceptibly on the steering wheel, but his expression remained unchanged. "Oh, that," he said lightly. "It must be from when I dropped my mother off at the estate yesterday. You know how Beatrice loves those strong perfumes."

The explanation was seamless. Beatrice Padilla was indeed famous for her dramatic taste and love of heavy, opulent scents.

"Mmm," Kyra murmured, not pushing further. But her intuition screamed. Beatrice's perfume wasn't this. Her mother-in-law favored classic, spicy oriental fragrances, not the sugary scent a younger woman would wear.

A subtle silence fell between them. Kieran turned on the music, a soft jazz melody filling the car.

Kyra leaned back and closed her eyes, pretending to rest. But her mind was racing. The perfume. Leah's call. Last night's "emergency project." The pieces wouldn't stay separate.

Just then, Kieran's phone rang. He glanced at the screen and answered it on the car's Bluetooth.

"Hello?" His voice was calm, but Kyra saw him glance at her in the rearview mirror.

She couldn't hear the other side, but Kieran's brow furrowed. "I understand. I'll be right there. Tell him to wait."

His tone was clipped, all business.

He ended the call and looked at her, his face a mask of apology. "Honey, I'm so sorry. There's an urgent situation at the office. An important overseas client just arrived unexpectedly. I have to go back right now."

As he spoke, he was already signaling to make a U-turn at the next intersection.

"I'll drop you home first, then I have to head over. It might be another late night." His voice was filled with regret.

Kyra looked at him. His expression was flawless, sincere. What could she say?

"It's okay," she said softly, forcing herself to sound like an understanding wife. "Work is important."

He pulled up to their apartment building and leaned over to give her a quick, hurried kiss. "Be good. I'll be back as soon as I'm done."

Kyra nodded, unbuckled her seatbelt, and got out of the car.

She stood on the sidewalk, watching the black Bentley execute a sharp turn and merge back into the flow of traffic, disappearing around the corner.

A cool breeze blew past, and Kyra pulled her coat tighter. The sweet, cloying scent of the perfume seemed to linger in the air around her, a ghost she couldn't shake.