While My Husband Cheated, I Married His Powerful Brother

Veyra’s phone rang.

She grabbed it. Dorian’s name flashed on the screen.

She answered. "Hello?"

His voice was low. Direct. "You want to go out?"

"Yes. To thank Aunt Chen. She’s the one who told the coffee shop about Lily’s location. Without her, I never would have found Greenery Villas."

"You’re sure this address is safe?"

"I have no reason to think it’s not."

There was a pause. Dorian was thinking. Calculating.

"Li Wei will go with you. You will not leave his sight. You will not speak to anyone except the woman you’re there to thank. You will not deviate from the route. You will not make any unscheduled stops."

Veyra’s heart leaped. "Thank you. I promise."

"If anything feels wrong, you leave immediately. No hesitation."

"I understand."

"One hour. No more."

"I understand."

The line went dead.

Veyra stared at her phone. He had said yes. He had trusted her.

She grabbed her bag. She checked that the money was still there. She walked to the door.

Li Wei was already in the hallway.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready."

They walked downstairs together.

The hallway was cool and quiet.

Veyra had just reached the top of the stairs when Li Wei’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. His face went tight.

"Mrs. Thorne," he said. "Mr. Thorne wants to speak with you. Directly."

He held out the phone.

Veyra’s heart skipped. She had just spoken to him. He had given her permission to go out. What now?

She took the phone. Her fingers were slightly sweaty.

"Hello?"

Dorian’s voice was low. Intimate. Completely unlike his usual cold tone.

"Hey," he said. "I was thinking about you."

Veyra blinked. She nearly dropped the phone.

What was happening?

"I missed your cooking," Dorian continued. His voice was soft. Warm. "The soup you made last week. I can still taste it."

Veyra’s brain scrambled. Something was wrong. He was never like this. He was never warm. Never soft.

Then she understood.

Someone was with him. Someone he needed to act for. Someone he needed to convince that he was a loving husband.

She straightened her back. She took a breath. She matched his tone.

"Since you like it, honey," she said, her voice sweet and soft, "I’ll make it for you again today. Come home early after work, okay?"

There was a pause. She could almost hear him smiling.

"I’ll try," he said.

She pushed further. She needed to sell it. For him. For whatever game he was playing.

"Honey," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, "I love you."

The words felt strange in her mouth. She had not said them to anyone in years. Not to Caspian. Not to anyone.

But she said them now. For Dorian.

The line was quiet for a moment. Then Dorian said, "I love you too."

And he hung up.

Veyra stood in the hallway, holding Li Wei’s phone, her heart pounding.

She had just told Dorian Thorne that she loved him.

It was an act. A performance. It meant nothing.

So why did her cheeks feel so warm?

Li Wei took his phone back. His face was professional. But his eyes were curious.

"Is everything all right, Mrs. Thorne?"

Veyra nodded. "Everything is fine. He was just... being affectionate."

Li Wei did not comment. He was too well-trained for that.

But Veyra knew he had heard everything. The sweet voice. The "honey." The "I love you."

She wanted to disappear.

"Let’s go," she said. "We have a pizza shop to visit."

They walked downstairs.

Dorian hung up the phone.

His office was silent except for the hum of the air conditioning. Naya Whitmore was still standing by the door, her hand still on the handle, her red dress still clinging to her body.

She had heard everything.

His face was cold again. The warmth he had poured into the phone call was gone. Replaced by ice.

"You heard me," Dorian said. "I’m married. I have a wife. I have a child on the way like I told you before."

Naya’s jaw tightened. Her eyes were hard.

"You just said that to make me jealous," she said. "You don’t love her. You married her because she’s pregnant. That’s all."

Dorian stood up from his desk. He walked toward the window. His back was to her.

"What I feel for my wife is none of your business."

Naya crossed the room. Her heels clicked on the marble floor. She stopped behind him. Close. Too close.

"You don’t have to pretend with me," she said. Her voice was low. Seductive. "I know you, Dorian. I’ve known you for years. You don’t love anyone. You’re incapable of it."

She reached out. Her fingers brushed his shoulder.

He did not move.

"We could be good together," she whispered. "Your family. My father’s political connections. We would be unstoppable."

She leaned closer. Her lips brushed his ear.

"This woman you married. She’s nothing. A placeholder. A womb to carry your child." Her breath was warm against his skin. "You can keep her. Have your child. I don’t care. Just let me be the one in your bed."

She opened her mouth. She tried to bite his earlobe.

Dorian moved.

His hand shot out. He pushed his swivel chair. Hard. The chair rolled into the back of Naya’s knees. She lost her balance. She stumbled. Her ankle twisted. She fell to the floor with a cry.

The sound echoed off the glass walls.

Naya sat on the cold marble, her dress hiked up, her ankle already starting to swell.

"You pushed me," she said. Her voice was shaking. With pain or fury, he could not tell.

"I moved my chair," Dorian said. "You fell."

"You—"

"You came into my office uninvited. You touched me without permission. You suggested I keep a mistress while my wife carries my child." He looked down at her. His gray eyes were empty. "You are not welcome here. Leave."

Naya’s face contorted. She tried to stand. Her ankle gave way. She cried out again.

"Help me," she said. "You have to help me. I’m injured."

Dorian did not move.

"You’re a congressman’s daughter," he said. "I’m sure you have people for that."

He walked to his desk. He pressed a button on the intercom.

"Security. Ms. Whitmore is leaving. Please escort her out."

Naya’s face went red. Then white. Then red again.

"You’ll regret this," she said. "My father—"

"Your father is a presidential candidate. Not a president. Not yet." Dorian sat down. He picked up his pen. "And even if he wins, he will need the support of families like mine. He will not risk losing my endorsement over his daughter’s bruised ego."

He looked at her.

"Now leave. Before I have you removed."

Naya struggled to her feet. She limped toward the door. Her ankle was swollen. Her face was contorted with pain and humiliation.

She stopped at the door. She turned to look at him.

"This isn’t over," she said.

She left.

The door closed.

Dorian set down his pen. He rubbed his temples.

He had enough enemies. He did not need another one.

But he would not be blackmailed. Not by Naya. Not by anyone.

He picked up his phone. He called Li Wei.

"Take Veyra to her appointment. Stay with her. Do not let her out of your sight."

"Yes, sir."

He hung up.