The Jilted Heiress Claims The Surgeon Brother
I was engaged to Gorden Barron, fully believing I was about to marry the love of my life.
Then his secret lover, Bettye, was diagnosed with aplastic anemia. Gorden fell to his knees and begged me to be her bone marrow donor.
"Angie, I know I messed up, but she's dying. You're the only match."
I agreed, wanting to be the bigger person. But the moment the harvest was over, the nightmare began. A severe infection set in, and my fever wouldn't break. Gorden's visits became shorter, then stopped entirely.
As I lay in the sterile hospital room, my bones aching and my body failing, I scrolled through my phone and saw his latest post.
Gorden and Bettye were tanned and healthy, sipping cocktails on a yacht in the Mediterranean.
The caption read: "Grateful for second chances. My true love."
I threw my phone across the room and screamed until my throat bled. I was nothing but a human blood bag to them, completely discarded the moment I was empty. I nearly died in that cold room, saved only by a top-tier specialist someone secretly paid millions to fly in.
Five years later, I've finally returned to New York.
I didn't come back to get revenge on Gorden. He isn't worth my time.
I came back for the man who secretly held my hand and wept by my deathbed—Gorden's cold, untouchable older brother, Dalton.
This time, I'm going to make him mine.
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Chapter 3
They had just reached the porch of the main house when a deep, rumbling bark shattered the quiet morning.
A massive black shadow burst from the side of the house. It moved like lightning, a hundred and fifty pounds of muscle and fur barreling straight toward Angelena.
Dalton stepped forward instinctively, his hand shooting out to push her behind him. "Ghost, no!"
But Angelena was faster. She dodged Dalton's arm and opened her own, letting out a squeal of pure delight. "Ghost! My baby!"
The Tibetan Mastiff launched itself at her. Instead of knocking her over, the dog seemed to understand its own size, planting its massive paws carefully on her shoulders while trying to lick her face.
Angelena buried her face in the dog's thick ruff, rubbing her hands vigorously over its ears. "I missed you so much!"
Ghost's tail wagged so hard his entire back end swayed. He whined and pushed his nose into her neck, soaking up her affection like a sponge.
Dalton stood frozen, his hand still hovering in the air where he had tried to protect her. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders eased. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Well, looks like my old friend remembers his owner," a warm female voice said from the doorway.
Cordella Barron stepped out onto the porch, carrying a tray with a pitcher of lemonade. She looked elegant and composed, but her eyes were soft as she watched the girl on the lawn.
"Cordella!" Angelena released the dog and rushed up the steps, wrapping her arms around the older woman. "It's so good to see you."
Cordella hugged her back, patting her gently. "Welcome home, sweetheart. You look wonderful. So full of life."
Cordella pulled back, her gaze sweeping over Angelena's glowing face. Then, almost unconsciously, her eyes drifted to her son.
Dalton was standing on the grass, his hands in his pockets. He wasn't looking at the house. He wasn't looking at the dog. He was staring at Angelena. His gaze was intense, focused, and completely unguarded. It was a look of raw, quiet possession that Cordella had never seen on her stoic son's face before.
Angelena ran back onto the lawn, chasing Ghost, her laughter ringing out clear and sweet. Dalton watched her, his eyes tracking her every move like she was the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth.
Cordella moved to stand beside her son. She followed his line of sight, then spoke softly, "She's changed a lot, hasn't she? She smiles more."
Dalton snapped out of his daze. He blinked, his posture going rigid. He cleared his throat, looking away. "Yeah. A few years in Europe will do that."
His voice was flat, controlled, but the flush creeping up the back of his neck betrayed him. Cordella smiled to herself. Her son, the robot, the man who treated women like medical charts, was blushing.
Angelena jogged back over to them, her cheeks flushed pink, a light sheen of sweat on her brow. She grabbed a glass of lemonade from the tray and downed half of it in one go.
She turned to Dalton, her eyes sparkling. "You've taken great care of him. He's even bigger than before."
Her tone was familiar and warm, as if Dalton had done this favor just yesterday, and she was praising him for it.
Dalton's pulse kicked up another notch. He shoved his hand deeper into his pocket, his knuckles turning white. "Hmm," was all he could manage.
Cordella watched her son's awkwardness with barely concealed amusement. She decided to push a little harder.
"He certainly has," Cordella said, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. "Dalton spent every free moment with that dog. I was starting to think he was going to marry the beast."
Angelena looked at Dalton, her gaze lingering on his face. "Is that so?"
Dalton felt the heat rise to his cheeks. He couldn't remember the last time he had blushed, but right now, his skin felt like it was on fire. He avoided her eyes, staring intently at the porch railing.
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