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One Night With The Wrong Brother Novel Cover

One Night With The Wrong Brother

I thought I was waking up in the arms of Arthur, the man I loved. But as the morning light hit the Hamptons estate, the man buttoning his cuffs by the window turned around with eyes like chips of ice. It was Augustus Riddle, Arthur’s cruel younger brother, and I had just spent the night whispering confessions of love into the wrong man's ear. The night I thought was a beautiful beginning turned into a devastating nightmare. Instead of comfort, Gus treated me like a stain on his expensive carpet, scribbling a check for "services rendered" before shoving me into a dark service corridor to hide my existence from his brother. "How much does it cost to buy your silence?" He sneered, before leaving me barefoot in a torrential downpour while he drove away in a luxury Cadillac. Four years later, I am a struggling actress in Los Angeles, working double shifts as a barista just to keep the lights on. My life was finally stable until my roommate dragged me to a high-end dinner to meet her new "influential" boyfriend. The man sitting at the table, looking more arrogant and lethal than ever, was Augustus. He spent the entire night humiliating me, calling me a pathetic amateur and a social climber in front of my only friends. When I fled into the rain and collapsed on the sidewalk, skinning my knee until I bled, he watched from his car. He saw me clutching a plastic baggie containing the taped-together pieces of that four-year-old check—the only proof of my shame. He looked at me like roadkill, rolled up his window, and drove off into the dark. I couldn't understand why he was doing this. Why did he hate me enough to crush me, yet remember that I couldn't handle the smell of cigarette smoke? Why did he leave me bleeding in the street, only to send expensive medical supplies and coffee to my door the very next morning? "I'm moving out." I told my roommates, realizing that Gus Riddle didn't just want to destroy me; he wanted to haunt me. I grabbed my suitcase and walked out with eighty dollars to my name, finally ready to disappear into the city before he could burn the rest of my life to the ground.
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Chapter 4

"Do you have anything that isn't... sad?"

Kylie was rummaging through Katherine's closet, tossing clothes onto the bed with disdain. "Zara, Zara, H&M... God, Kat, do you shop exclusively at the clearance rack?"

"It's called a budget, Kylie," Katherine said, leaning against the doorframe. She felt a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. She hated dressing up. It felt like putting on a costume.

"Here." Kylie pulled out a simple black slip dress. It was old, from her life before, but the silk was real. "Wear this. And put on this lipstick. You look like a ghost."

She handed Katherine a tube of red lipstick. Katherine took it. The cool metal felt heavy in her hand.

"Hurry up," Trixie called from the living room. "The Uber is two minutes away."

They piled into the Uber XL. The air conditioning blasted, smelling of fake pine. Kylie sat in the middle, tapping furiously on her phone.

"Who helped you get the reservation?" Beth asked, leaning forward. "Catch is impossible on a Friday."

Kylie smirked, her eyes still glued to her screen. "A friend."

"What kind of friend?" Katherine asked. The knot in her stomach pulled tighter.

"A very influential friend," Kylie said vaguely. "You guys will see. He's meeting us there."

"He?" Beth raised an eyebrow. "Is this the mystery man you've been hinting at?"

Kylie giggled. "We're just... talking. But he's obsessed with me."

Katherine looked out the window. The palm trees of Santa Monica Boulevard blurred past. Los Angeles was a city of lies, and Kylie was fluent in the language.

They arrived at Catch LA. The entrance was a chaotic swarm of flashing lights. Paparazzi lined the velvet ropes, shouting names.

Kylie stepped out of the car and immediately struck a pose, hand on her hip, chin tilted. A few cameras flashed, but the photographers were looking past her, waiting for someone actually famous.

Kylie recovered quickly, tossing her hair. "Ugh, so intense tonight."

They were ushered past the bouncer and up the stairs. The restaurant was a lush, open-air garden, teeming with beautiful people. The noise was deafening-laughter, clinking glasses, the thrum of bass.

"Table for Barker," Kylie told the hostess.

They were led to a prime table near the edge of the terrace. Katherine sat down, trying to make herself small. She felt out of place in her old dress and bright lipstick.

"I'm ordering the seafood tower," Kylie announced, not looking at the menu. "And shots."

Katherine checked the prices. A cocktail cost as much as her phone bill. She ordered water.

"Oh my god," Kylie gasped. Her face lit up. She stood up, waving her hand frantically. "Over here!"

Katherine turned her head.

The air left her lungs.

Walking through the entrance, cutting through the crowd like a shark through water, was a man in a black t-shirt and dark jeans. He didn't look at the cameras. He didn't look at the hostess. He walked with an arrogant, lethal grace that Katherine would know anywhere.

It was Gus.

He was taller than she remembered. His shoulders were broader. His face had lost the last traces of boyishness, replaced by hard angles and a five o'clock shadow that made him look dangerous.

Katherine's hand flew to her mouth. She wanted to slide under the table. She wanted to run.

But it was too late.

Gus's eyes scanned the room. They swept over the crowd, bored and detached.

Then they landed on their table.

They landed on her.

For a tenth of a second, he stopped. His eyes widened imperceptibly. The boredom vanished, replaced by a flash of recognition so sharp it felt like a knife.

Then, just as quickly, the wall came down. His expression went blank. Cold.

Kylie practically threw herself at him as he approached. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Gus! You made it!"

Gus didn't hug her back. He stood there, stiff, his hands in his pockets. But he didn't push her away.

"Kylie," he said. His voice was deeper. Rougher. It sent a shiver down Katherine's spine that had nothing to do with fear.

"Girls, this is Gus," Kylie beamed, clinging to his arm like a trophy. "The friend I told you about."

Katherine couldn't breathe. The man who had destroyed her, the man she had spent four years hiding from, was standing right there. And he was Kylie's "friend."

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