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Chapter 324
Brandon’s POV
“Aunt Meave, I’ll handle Grace’s situation,” I assured her, watching how her eyes lit up at the mention of her daughter’s name. “You don’t need to worry about her safety.”
Meave’s fingers tightened around her teacup. “I need to think about this some more,” she said quietly. “Grace was so determined to disappear. If she wanted to be found, wouldn’t she have reached out by now?”
I could see the conflict in her eyes–the desperate desire to find her daughter warring with the fear that forcing Grace to return might push her further away.
“If you’re not ready to make a decision,” I offered, “perhaps we should head back? It’s getting late.”
Summer shot me a concerned look from across the table.
Meave nodded, setting down her cup. “I already told Gavin I’d be staying at your Hamptons estate for a couple of days. He agreed it would be good for me to get away from the city.”
Just as I stood to leave, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Stark Manor’s number flashed on the screen. I hesitated briefly before answering.
“Mr. Stark,” the family butler’s voice came through, tense and formal. “your grandfather urgently requestyour presence.”
Before I could respond, I heard a commotion on the other end, followed by my grandfather’s voice as he apparently snatched the phone away.
“Come back immediately.” William Stark’s voice was cold with barely contained fury.
I sat back down, my expression carefully neutral despite the alarm bells ringing in my head. William never called me directly unless something significant had happened.
“What’s the matter?” I asked calmly.
“You have the audacity to ask me what’s wrong?” he spat. “You know damn well what you’ve done.”
Summer and Meave exchanged concerned glances.
“Grandfather, perhaps you could clarify the situation,” I replied evenly, though I was beginning to suspect what this might be about.
“Were you at the manor earlier today?” he demanded. “Was there a woman in your car?”
I felt my body tense automatically. The atmosphere in the room shifted as my demeanor changed–Summer in her eyes widening slightly.
ately sensed it,
“That woman–when did she return to New York?” William continued his voice rising. “Didn’t you send her away years ago?”
“You’re mistaken,” I cut in firmly.
“Don’t lie to me!” he barked. “Her face…”
I interrupted before he could continue. “Grandfather, this is a misunderstanding.”
“Is she one of your employees at Stark Group?” The accusation in his tone was unmistakable. “I’m warning you, break things off with
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that woman immediately, or
‘Or what?” I asked, a cold smile playing at my lips.
“That kind of woman isn’t worthy of you,” he stated flatly. “I’ll take action if necessary.”
“You’re welcome to try,” I replied, my voice deliberately light.
He paused, then demanded, “Bring her to the manor. Tonight.”
I ended the call without another word, sliding the phone back into my pocket. When I looked up, Summer was watching me intently.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, concern etched across her face. “Is it something with Stark Group? Or the family?”
“Nothing important, I dismissed, though my mind was already calculating the implications. William had seen Summer, and the resemblance to Lyanna had obviously triggered him.
Turning to Meave, I explained; I need to head to the Stark manor. Something’s come up.”
Meave, perceptive as always, nodded understandingly. “I’m feeling quite tired anyway. I should rest.”
‘I’ll have James drive you both back to the Hamptons,” I said, already reaching for my phone.
“That’s not necessary,” Summer interjected. “You handle your business, Brandon. I can take care of Aunt Meave.*
Storm clouds gathered over the Stark manor as I pulled up the long driveway, the mansion’s silhouette looming against the darkening sky. The weather matched the atmosphere I was about to walk into–heavy with tension and the promise of conflict.
The butler opened the door before I could even knock.
“Alone, sir?” he asked, his expression carefully neutral.
I ignored the question, stepping past him into the grand foyer. The house felt unnaturally quiet, the kind of silence that precedes an
explosion.
In the main sitting room, my family waited like judges at a tribunal–William in his usual armchair by the fireplace, my father Robert standing by the window, Uncle Gavin seated near the door, and my sister Sarah perched uncomfortably on the edge of a sofa.
William’s face darkened when he saw me enter alone. “Where is she? he demanded.
“Who?” I asked innocently, though we both knew exactly who he meant.
Sarah caught my eye, a subtle warning in her gaze that I acknowledged with the barest glance.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” William snapped, his knuckles white where they gripped his cane. “The staff saw her in your car. That
woman.”
I settled into a chair opposite him, deliberately relaxed. “If you already know, why bother asking me?”
“End it,” William ordered flatly. “Break things off with her immediately. I’ve told you before–Lyanna York is out of the question, and
so is this one.”
I couldn’t help but smile. So that was it–he thought I was with Summer because she reminded me of Lyanna. The irony was almost
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amusing.
“After thirty years as your gramison, I said quietly, “you still don’t understand what I want.”
William’s face flushed with anger. “Don’t lecture me, boy.”
“Whether she resembles Lyanna or not is irrelevant,” I continued calmly. “She’s mine. And for the record, she’s nothing like Lyanna. She’s better.”
“Better?” William scoffed. “That Summer Taylor girl? With her background? She’s nowhere near your league, Brandon.”
“You’re right,” I agreed, surprising him. “I’m not worthy
her.s
I stood up slowly, sliding one hand into my pocket as I delivered the blow I knew would detonate the situation beyond repair.
“She’s my wife.”
William froze, then slowly rose to his feet. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me correctly,” stated flatly. “Summer and I are already married. So your demand that I break up with her is impossible
to fulfill.”
“You ungrateful-” William’s face contorted with rage as he raised his cane, only to have my father intercept it before it could strike
- me.
“Did you know about this?” William turned his fury on Robert, who stood calmly between us.
“I knew of her,” my father admitted carefully. “But not about the marriage.”
He turned to me, his expression unreadable. “Brandon, is this some misguided attempt to replace Lyanna? Because if so-*
A cold laugh escaped me. “Think whatever you want. Whether you believe me or accept Summer makes no difference. She is my wife -Mrs. Stark–and will remain so for the rest of our lives.” I took a step closer to William, my voice dropping dangerously. “If anyone tries to harm her in any way, they’ll answer directly to me.”
The challenge hung in the air between us, clear and unmistakable. I’d drawn my line in the sand. Summer was non–negotiable–even to the mighty William Stark.
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