Summer’s POV
I was in the middle of telling Meave about one of my college pranks when we heard the front door open. Brandon appeared in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted against the evening light. Even from across the room, I could sense the tension radiating from him, though his expression remained carefully controlled.
“Well, look who’s back,” Meave said warmly.
My face instantly brightened. “Brandon, you’re home! I called out, my eyes crinkling with genuine happiness.
The rigid lines of his body visibly softened as our eyes met. “Yeah, he replied, his voice lightening as he stepped into the room.
“What were you two chatting about? You look so happy,” he asked.
I bounced up, taking his coat. “We were talking about you, actually! teased, handing him his slippers. “Meave’s been singing your praises non–stop. Going on and on about how wonderful you are. I’m starting to get jealous!”
Brandon ruffled my hair. “You’re something else. Have you thought about dinner?”
“Way ahead of you,” I replied proudly. “James drove us to the market earlier. I picked up fresh ingredients–was just waiting for you to get back so I could start cooking!”
“Look at you, being all domestic,” he teased, reaching to pinch my nose.
I swatted his hand away. “Stop it! Meave’s right here! Behave yourself! I scolded, though I couldn’t keep the smile from my voice. “Why don’t you keep Meave company while I put your coat away and get dinner started?”
As I headed for the stairs, something about their sudden silence made me pause at the landing, just out of sight but within earshot.
“Meave.” Brandon’s voice had lost all its warmth, turning back to steel.
“The old man knows, doesn’t he?” Meave asked quietly.
A pause. “Nothing ever gets past you, does it?”
My breath caught. William Stark knew about us?
“What are you going to do?” Meave asked, concerned.
“Nothing,” Brandon replied firmly. “June is my wife. That’s all there is to it. Whether the Stark family acknowledges her or not means nothing to me.”
My heart swelled at his unwavering stance, even as anxiety curled in my stomach.
Are you planning to tell Summer?”
“She doesn’t need to know,” Brandon stated flatly. “These matters don’t concern her.”
I bit my lip, conflicted emotions churning inside me. Part of me wanted to rush down and demand to know everything, but another part understood why Brandon wanted to shield me.
Remember this,” Meave said seriously. “Marriage means sharing burdens. Don’t keep secrets from her. Trust is the foundation of everything.”
1/3
Chapter 326
“I know,” Brandon replied, his tone softening slightly.
I continued upstairs, hanging his coat carefully. Brandon was protecting me–that much was clear, While I appreciated it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being kept in the dark about something important.
When I returned downstairs, I found only Meave in the living room
“Where’s Brandon?” I asked.
“Kitchen,” Meave replied, patting the space beside her. “Come sit with me!”
“But I was supposed to cook tonight,” I protested.
“Let him handle it,” Meave insisted.
I peeked into the kitchen where Brandon stood washing vegetables, an apron over his expensive shirt. He looked so adorably domestic I couldn’t help but grin.
“Brandon Stark in an apron!” I giggled, pulling out my phone. “This is too good to pass up. Strike a pose–this is definitely becoming my new lock screen!”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t object as I snapped several photos.
I showed Meave the pictures. “Look how cute he is! Have you ever seen Brandon like this before?”
Meave studied the images with a warm smile. “He looks happier than I’ve ever seen him. The way he looks at you… there’s no pretending that kind of love.” She glanced at me. Some people worry he sees you as a replacement for someone else, but that’s impossible. It’s clear as day–he loves you, Summer.”
My cheeks flushed. “Really?”
“Absolutely,” Meave affirmed. “And you capture him in a way no one else could.”
The next day, I was leaving Scarlett’s coffee shop when a black SUV pulled up beside me. A man in a dark suit stepped out.
“Ms. Taylor, our lady would like a word with you.”
I frowned. “Your lady?”
The rear window lowered, revealing Jane Sinclair’s pale, elegant face
“Mrs. Stark,” I acknowledged, keeping my voice even.
Her lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “No need to play innocent with me.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Is it true?” she demanded. “You and Brandon–you’re married?”
After a moment’s hesitation, I nodded. “Yes, we are.”
Her face hardened. “Get in the car.”
2/3
งดง
Every instinct screamed this was a bad idea, but I knew avoiding this confrontation would only delay the inevitable. “Alright.”
The interior smelled of expensive leather and subtle perfume. Jane sat rigidly across from me, scanning me head to toe with undisguised disdain. The silence between us was heavy with unspoken judgments.
The car pulled up to an upscale restaurant. We were led to a private dining room, isolated from other patrons.
“Here,” she said coldly, pushing a menu toward me.
I pushed it back. “I’ll have whatever you’re having. I’m not picky.”
“Of course you’re not,” she retorted with a bitter laugh. “You only pick the very best–like my son.”
I met her gaze directly. “I assume you asked to meet because of my marriage to Brandon?”
Jane slammed the menu down, all pretense of civility evaporating. “You are not suitable for Brandon. Leave him. Immediately.”
“Nothing to say?” she challenged when I remained silent.
“Whether we’re suitable for each other is something only Brandon and I can determine, don’t you think?”
Jane’s perfectly manicured nails drummed against the table. “Someone like you could never be good enough for Brandon. Not your background, not your status–nothing about you helps him. You’re only dragging him down! Don’t pretend you want anything but his money and position!”
I felt a flicker of genuine amusement at how wildly she’d misjudged me. “You’ve misunderstood. I care about Brandon himself–the man, not his assets. He treats me well, and I care for him. It’s actually quite simple and has nothing to do with money, power, or
status.”
Jane’s laugh was sharp and cutting. “Please! I’ve seen countless women like you. All claiming it’s not about the money. If that’s true, why not find yourself some penniless nobody instead?”
Something cold settled in my chest. I let my smile fade, meeting her hostility with my own growing chill.
“So in your view,” I said quietly, “I should only pursue poor men to prove my love is genuine? Interesting standard. May I ask why you didn’t follow that advice yourself? The Sinclairs are quite wealthy, aren’t they? You could have easily supported a man with no fortune. Why specifically target one of New York’s oldest and most powerful families like the Starks?*
Chapter Comments
LIKE
POST COMMENT NOW
SHARE
