Summer’s POV
I made my way back to my desk, still shaken from my encounter with Lyanna. My mind was racing with a thousand thoughts, but I forced myself to focus on work. I needed normalcy right now–something solid to ground me.
Her face–a face so eerily similar to mine it was unsettling. What was William Stark’s game here? Was Brandon telling me the truth, or was I just a convenient replacement?
No, I told myself firmly. Brandon married me. He chose me. Whatever Lyanna was to him before, I’m his wife now.
But doubt had already taken root, growing like a weed in the garden of my mind. I trusted Brandon–1 did–but I didn’t trust anyone else in this equation. Not.William Stark, not the company gossips, and certainly not Lyanna York.
I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, trying to clear my head.
“Summer? Are you okay? You seem weird today.”
I opened my eyes to find Heather standing over me, concern etched on her face.
“I’m fine,” I lied, straightening up. “Just didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Heather set a stack of papers on my desk. “Leo asked me to bring you these data reports.”
“Thanks,” I said, reaching for them half–heartedly.
Instead of leaving, Heather perched on the edge of my desk, leaning in conspiratorially. “So, what’s the deal with you and our CEO? Everyone saw you arrive together this morning.”
bit back a sigh. The last thing I needed right now was more gossip. It’s exactly what it looks like.”
“Come on,” she pressed. “Are you related to the Stark family or something? And what about that Lyanna woman?”
My head snapped up. “Stop right there. I have absolutely nothing to do with Lyanna York.”
Heather’s eyes widened at my sharp tone.
I softened slightly. “As for Brandon and me… you can draw your own conclusions.”
By the end of the day, I was mentally exhausted. As I packed up my things, my phone rang. Brandon,
“Hey,” I answered, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder as I gathered my papers.
“Dinner tonight?” he asked. “I was thinking we could try that new place in SoHo.”
I was about to agree when I spotted Lyanna standing near the building entrance, clearly watching for me. A mix of irritation and determination surged through me.
“Actually, I don’t think I can make it tonight,” I said, my eyes locked on Lyanna’s figure. “I have plans with a… friend. You’ll have to handle dinner on your own tonight.”
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There was a pause on the other end. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.” I assured him. “I’ll see you later at home.”
I hung up and made my way toward the entrance, steeling myself for whatever confrontation awaited me.
Lyanna straightened as I approached, forcing a smile that didn’t read her eyes.
“Was that Brandon on the phone?” she asked the moment I was within earshot.
I matched her forced smile with one of my own, though mine contained an edge of ice. “That was my husband.
Her smile faltered, a flash of something–anger? pain?-Crossing her features before she recovered. “Brandon’s so inconsiderate. Getting married without telling me. William was complaining just the other day that even he didn’t know about Brandon’s marriage.”
My smile dimmed slightly, but I kept it firmly in place. “Brandon believes marriage is a private matter between two people. He said we’d inform all the relatives when we hold our official wedding ceremony. By the way, Ms. York, are you Brandon’s sister or
something?”
Lyanna’s perfectly arched eyebrows rose. “My last name is York.”
“Exactly,” I pressed. “So why are you making it like you are a Stark?
Lyanna shifted uncomfortably. “You probably don’t know this, Ms. Taylor, but the York and Stark families have been close for generations. Brandon and I grew up together-.”
“Of course,” I said dismissively. “Names are just labels, after all. Whether you call me Ms. Taylor or Mrs. Stark–I don’t really mind either way.”
Lyanna’s face tightened. “I wouldn’t want to cause confusion by calling you Mrs. Stark when your marriage isn’t public knowledge
yet.”
“Feel free to make it public if you’d like,” I countered smoothly. “So, did you want to grab dinner or just coffee?”
When Lyanna remained silent, clearly thrown by my directness, I decided to press my advantage.
“You know what? Manhattan has changed so much since you’ve been gone–everything’s different now. People, places, things–they all change. Since you might not recognize much anymore, why don’t show you around? I know this city like the back of my hand.”
Lyanna hesitated before accepting with obvious reluctance. “That would be… nice. Thank you, Ms. Taylor.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” I replied, my voice dripping with false graciousness. “I’m Brandon’s wife, it’s only proper that I play hostess. Brandon’s so busy these days, he might not have time to show you around properly. Feel free to come to me anytime.”
O
Thirty minutes later, I was driving my bright red Ferrari down Park Avenue with Lyanna in the passenger seat. The car was Brandon’s, of course–a trophy from some ridiculous bet with Sean—but he often let me drive it.
I could feel Lyanna eyes on me, assessing everything from my driving to the way I tucked my hair behind my ear. In her mind, I knew she was comparing us: me, the bold, outspoken woman who’d seemingly appeared from nowhere to capture Brandon, versus her, the woman with history and family connections.
“So, where would you like to go?” I asked, breaking the tense silence.
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‘Fifth Avenue,‘ she replied after a moment. “Have you heard of it?
I bit back a sarcastic response. Of course, Everyone knows Fifth Averie
1 adjusted our route, heading toward the iconic shopping street.
Is there a restaurant you like there?‘ I asked,
I used to go there often with Brandon…” she paused, and other friends. I’d like to see it again.”
I kept my expression neutral, though internally I was counting backward from ten to maintain my composure.
“You know,” Lyanna continued, her voice taking on a nostalgic tone, growing up with Brandon, we went everywhere together. I remember he used to love-”
I maintained my speed and my smile, appearing completely unaffected by her obvious attempt to get under my skin.
Lyanna stopped mid–sentence, suddenly studying my face. “You… don’t mind?”
I couldn’t help but laugh, “Mind what, exactly?”
“I mean…” she stammered, clearly thrown by my reaction.
Ldecided to drop the pretense, just for a moment. “Actually, I do mind. A lot. Though I’m part of every minute of his life now, I wasn’t there for his past. Sometimes I wish I’d known him from birth been tied to his side from the beginning. Then people with questionable intentions wouldn’t be able to get close to him.” I met her eyes directly. “That would solve everything once and for all, wouldn’t it?”
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