Brandon’s POV
“Father is resting in a private suite,” Richard said. “Would you like me to show you the way?”
The hotel staff member who guided me to the suite practically vibrated with nervous energy. Inside, I found exactly what I’d expected–George Taylor and Jonathan Thompson, hunched over a chess board, completely absorbed in their game.
“Checkmate in three moves,” Jonathan was saying, his weathered face creased in concentration.
George scoffed. “Two, if you’d been paying attention to
my knight.”
I slipped off my jacket. “Make that four moves, Professor. Your bishop is vulnerable.”
Both men looked up, identical expressions of delight spreading across their faces.
“Brandon!” they exclaimed in unison.
I approached, clasping each man’s hand firmly. “Mr. Taylor, Professor Thompson. I see you’re enjoying a game.”
George gestured to an empty chair. “Join us, son. You’re just in time to settle an argument about this bishop’s fate.”
I settled into the chair. “You arrived early.”
“Not particularly,” George replied, his eyes twinkling. “Originally planned to skip this circus altogether, but I was worried about my Summer showing up. Couldn’t leave my granddaughter to face those vultures alone.” He glanced around. “Speaking of which, where is that girl?”
“Mingling,” I replied. “We arrived separately.”
Jonathan’s expression darkened immediately. “Still playing that game, are you? When exactly are you two planning to stop this
charade?”
I maintained my composure, nodding slightly. “You’re absolutely right, Professor. This situation is far from ideal, and I take full responsibility for the secrecy.”
“Damn right you should,” Jonathan huffed. “You’re a grown man, Brandon. If you didn’t approve of this arrangement, Summer
couldn’t insist on it.”
“Summer is concerned about potential complications once our marriage becomes public knowledge, I ex, ned calmly. She needs- time to adjust. You know I don’t personally care about public opinion, or I wouldn’t have married her in the first place.
Jonathan’s eyes narrowed. “And if that stubborn granddaughter of mine decides to drag this out indefinitely? Your position isn’t going to change, Brandon.”
I leaned forward, my voice low but firm. “Professor, trust me on this. Not much longer. I never fight battles I’m not certain I’ll win.
Jonathan studied me before sighing. “Call her in here. I haven’t seen my granddaughter in weeks.”
I reached for my phone, dialing June’s number.
“Hello?” Her voice came through, slightly muffled.
“Where are you?” I asked.
1/3
Chapter 141.
“Bathroom area,” she replied. Something wrong?”
“I’m with Grandpa and Professor. They want to see you.” I paused, noticing tension in her voice. “Is someone with you?”
Her response was careful, measured. “Yeah, my brother–in–law.”
Alexander. Something cold settled in my gut. “Stay there. I’m coming to you now.”
I ended the call before she could protest, already rising from my chair.
“Problem?” George asked, his shrewd eyes missing nothing.
“Minor issue,” I replied smoothly. “I’ll bring Summer back shortly.”
Summer’s POV
I stared at my phone in disbelief as Brandon hung up. Perfect timing. Just… perfect.
“Who was that?” Alexander demanded, stepping closer.
“None of your business,” I replied, slipping my phone back into my clutch.
The hallway outside the restrooms was mercifully empty, but that isolation now felt like a trap. Alexander stood between me and the main ballroom, his body language aggressive in a way that made my skin crawl.
“Everything about you is my business, Summer,” he insisted, his voice dropping to what he probably thought was seductive. “We both know this wedding is just a formality. Victoria has her ambitions, I have mine, but what we had… that was real.”
I could barely stop myself from rolling my eyes. “Are you seriously hitting on me at your own wedding? God, Alexander, you’re even more pathetic than I thought.”
His expression hardened. “You don’t mean that. I know you, Summer. Better than anyone. Those three years we spent together-*
“Those three years where you were secretly fucking my sister behind my back?” I cut in, my voice razor–sharp. “Those three years where I was just your backup plan while you worked out how to get Victoria’s shares? Those three years?”
He flinched, then reached for my hand. I jerked away, but he was faster, his fingers wrapping around my wrist with surprising strength.
“Let go of me,” I hissed.
“Not until you listen,” he insisted. “I made a mistake, okay? I thought Victoria was what I wanted, but I was wrong. You’re the one I can’t stop thinking about.”
“Alexander, even if that were true–which I doubt–it doesn’t matter. don’t want you. I don’t love you.”
“You’re lying,” he said, tightening his grip until it hurt. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t still care.”
“I’m here because Victoria is my sister,” I said slowly, as if explaining to a child. “That’s literally the only reason. Now let. Go. Of. My. Hand.”
Instead, he pulled me closer. “Tell me you don’t still feel something.
I tried to twist free, wincing as his fingers dug into my skin. “You have no idea what type I am anymore. People change, Alexander. I’ve changed.”
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Chapter 141
“You’re mine, Summer,” he growled, suddenly yanking me closer, his free hand gripping my waist. “You’ve always been mine. If you think I’m going to let some other man have you-”
“What are you doing exactly? Let her go.”
The voice was soft, dangerously soft, but it cut through the air like a blade. Alexander froze, his grip slackening enough for me to wrench my hand free and step away.
Brandon stood at the end of the hallway, his expression perfectly composed but his eyes blazing with cold fury. He wore that deceptively casual stance I’d come to recognize–relaxed shoulders, hands in pockets–the calm before the storm.
“Mr. Stark,” I said, desperately trying to sound normal as I rubbed my aching wrist. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Brandon’s eyes tracked the movement, noting the red marks Alexander had left on my skin. Something dark flashed across his face before he controlled it.
“Miss Taylor,” he acknowledged, his voice perfectly polite but with an undercurrent that made my heart race.
Alexander seemed to shrink before my eyes, the arrogant man who’d just been manhandling me suddenly transformed into an awkward, stammering mess.
“Uncle Brandon?” he choked out. “Why are you here?”
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