While My Husband Cheated, I Married His Powerful Brother

The car stopped. A valet opened her door. She stepped out onto a gravel driveway and looked up at the massive building and felt very, very small.

Dorian came around the car. He offered her his arm. She took it. His arm was solid under her hand and was warm.

"Smile," he said. "And don’t let them see you sweat."

They walked through the front door together.

The foyer was crowded. People everywhere. Men in suits. Women in expensive dresses. Servants carrying trays of champagne. Veyra had never seen so many wealthy people in one place.

Dorian did not stop. He walked through the crowd like a ship cutting through water. People moved out of his way. They nodded at him. They said Mr. Thorne and Dorian and so good to see you. He did not acknowledge any of them.

He led her into a large living room. The ceiling was two stories high. A fireplace big enough to stand in dominated one wall. Paintings hung everywhere. Old paintings. Ancestors. Dead people with stern faces and expensive clothes.

A group of people stood by the fireplace. They turned when Dorian entered.

Veyra recognized them from the tablet.

The stepmother first. Her name was Celeste. She was tall and thin and beautiful in a frozen way, like a doll that had been preserved in plastic. Her hair was blond. Her dress was white. Her smile did not reach her eyes.

"Ah," Celeste said. "The new wife."

Dorian’s arm tightened around Veyra’s hand. "Celeste."

"I heard you got married." Celeste’s eyes moved over Veyra like she was examining a stain on the carpet. "To a woman who dropped out of high school."

Veyra felt her face heat. She had dropped out. It was true. Her mother had gotten sick, and she had needed to work, and college had seemed like a luxury she could not afford.

"She’s my wife," Dorian said. "That’s all that matters."

The uncle spoke next. His name was Marcus. He was short and round and red-faced, like he had been drinking since breakfast.

"Your wife?" Marcus laughed. "Dorian, you can’t be serious. This woman is beneath you. Everyone knows it. Look at her." He pointed at Veyra. "She can barely stand in the same room as us."

Veyra wanted to disappear. She wanted to run. She wanted to go back to the villa and hide in her room and never come out.

But she did not move.

Dorian did not move either. He stood beside her, his arm still firm under her hand, his face completely calm.

"Marcus," he said. "You’re drunk."

"I’m honest." Marcus stepped closer. He smelled like whiskey and old cigars. "This woman is nobody. She has no money. No education. No family. She’s a nobody. And you—"

"Enough."

The voice came from the doorway. A woman’s voice. Old but strong.

Everyone turned.

An elderly woman stood in the doorway. She was small and frail, with white hair and deep wrinkles and eyes that were sharp and bright and full of fire. She leaned on a cane, but she held herself like a queen.

Dorian’s grandmother.

She walked into the room. Slowly and carefully. But she walked. No one helped her and no one offered.

She stopped in front of Veyra. She looked up at her. Her eyes moved over Veyra’s face, her dress, her hands.

"So," the old woman said. "You’re the one who stole my grandson’s heart."

Veyra did not know what to say. She opened her mouth and nothing came out.

The old woman smiled. It was a small smile, wrinkled but it was a real smile.

"I like her," she said. "She doesn’t talk too much."

*

*

The tension in the room did not go away.

Celeste stepped forward. Her heels clicked on the marble floor. Her smile was still frozen on her face.

"Mother Thorne," Celeste said. "You’re supposed to be resting."

"I’m supposed to be dead, according to you." The old woman did not look at her. She kept her eyes on Veyra. "But I’m still here. Disappointing, I know."

Celeste’s smile flickered. "That’s not what I meant."

"It’s exactly what you meant." The old woman turned to Dorian. "You married her. Good. She’s pretty. Does she cook?"

Veyra blinked. "I—yes. A little."

"She’s humble. I like that too." The old woman patted Veyra’s hand. Her fingers were thin and cold. "My grandson is a difficult man. Cold. Distant. He works too much. He doesn’t let people in. If you can make him happy, you’re worth more than all the money in this house."

Celeste’s smile disappeared. "Mother Thorne, we need to discuss the marriage. It’s not appropriate—"

"It’s done." The old woman’s voice was sharp. "The papers are signed. The child is on the way. There’s nothing to discuss."

Marcus spoke up again. His face was redder now. "The child could be anyone’s. She was married to Caspian. We all know Caspian. He’s not exactly—"

Dorian moved.

He did not shout. He did not hit anyone. He just stepped forward, and Marcus stepped back, and suddenly the room was very quiet.

"Careful," Dorian said. His voice was low. "You’re talking about my wife. And my child."

Marcus swallowed. His red face went pale. "I didn’t mean—"

"You meant exactly what you said." Dorian turned to face the room. "Listen to me, all of you. Veyra is my wife. She carries my child. She will be treated with respect in this house. If anyone has a problem with that, they can take it up with me directly."

The room was silent.

Then Celeste laughed.

It was a cold sound. Bitter.

"You think you can just bring a stranger into this family and expect us to accept her?" Celeste shook her head. "You’re the head of Zeus Group, Dorian. You have a reputation to maintain. This woman—this nobody—will destroy everything your mother built."

Veyra flinched. She could not help it.

"Don’t," Dorian said. "Don’t talk about my mother."

"I’ll talk about whatever I want." Celeste’s voice rose. "Your mother was weak. She let your father walk all over her. And you’re just like her. You’re letting this woman use you for your money and your name and—"

"That’s enough."

The old woman’s voice cracked through the room like a whip.

Everyone turned.

The grandmother was clutching her chest. Her face was gray. Her breathing was fast and shallow.

"Grandmother?" Dorian was at her side in two steps. His hand went to her shoulder. "Grandmother, what’s wrong?"

The old woman tried to speak and her mouth opened but no words came out.

Her eyes rolled back and she collapsed.