Forbidden Love wtih my Ex-Husband's Billionaire Brother

Giselle’s POV

The scent of fresh roses hit me before anything else, soft and sweet, wrapping around me like a memory I didn’t even know I was holding onto. My lips curved into a lazy smile as my eyes slowly opened, still heavy with sleep.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

Ken’s voice came from behind me, rough and warm, the kind of sound that always made something deep in my chest melt. His arms slipped around me from the back, pulling me into him as his lips brushed against my cheek.

For a second, I just leaned into him, letting myself feel it, letting myself believe in it.

I turned in his arms, smiling up at him, but the moment my eyes landed on him properly, that smile froze.

He was dressed.

Not just dressed, ready. Like he was already halfway out the door.

“You’re leaving already?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light even though something small and uncomfortable twisted inside me.

Ken glanced down at his Rolex wristwatch, like time suddenly mattered more than this moment, more than me.

“Something urgent came up,” he said, already halfway detached. “I have to go, but I promise I’ll be back in time for us to celebrate your birthday.”

Then he looked at me again, and there it was, that softness. That look that always made me feel like I was the only person in his world.

“Why not take the day off?” he added gently. “I booked a spa for you.”

I smiled, because how could I not? This was him. This was us. He leaned in and kissed me, slow and familiar, like it meant something. “I love you,” he whispered.

Then just like that, he pulled away, took a couple of steps toward the door, paused like he remembered something, and turned back. “I made you breakfast.”

I let out a soft laugh. “Thank you.”

Warmth spread through me as I pulled the bouquet of roses closer to my chest, breathing them in like they could hold onto this moment for me. I watched him walk away, watched his back disappear through the doorway, and I couldn’t help smiling.

People always joked about wives being spoiled, but honestly? Ken was the reason that phrase even existed.

Kennedy Macmillan.

My husband.

Handsome in that effortless way, broad where it mattered, sharp where it counted. And those hazel eyes… God, every time he looked at me, my heart still reacted like I was a teenager all over again.

We were that couple. The one people envied. The high school sweethearts who actually made it, proving everyone wrong.

Four years of marriage, and we were still solid.

At least… that’s what I thought.

I ended up taking his advice and going back to sleep, still holding the roses like they were something fragile and important. When I woke up again, it was to the sound of a knock on the door.

A chauffeur was waiting to take me to the spa.

By the time I got back, I felt lighter than I had in weeks, maybe even months. Relaxed, refreshed, glowing in a way I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. I’d even switched things up a little.

My usual long curls were gone, replaced with soft waves, and I’d added a subtle tint to my brunette hair.

I kept catching my reflection and smiling, couldn’t wait for Ken to see it.

So I waited, and waited, and waited, but he never came.

At first, I told myself it was fine, wasn’t unusual. He worked late sometimes, and life happens.

Except… today was my birthday.

I picked up my phone and called him, it rang and rang before going silent.

No answer.

A familiar pattern, but tonight it felt different. My birthdays have always been a priority for him and most times, we both skipped work.

It was during the first year in our marriage that he learned to cook, just to surprise me on my birthday so this silence, felt …heavy. Something was wrong. I checked the news to see if there had been an accident but nothing.

I grabbed my coat, refusing to let the entire day go to waste. I had plans, and I wasn’t about to let them die just because he got busy.

I was just about to call the chauffeur when my phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

I frowned, opening the message without thinking twice, and just like that, everything inside me… stopped.

My vision blurred instantly.

No.

No, that wasn’t—

That couldn’t be Ken.

The video started, and my heart began to pound so hard it felt like it was trying to break out of my chest. He looked like he’d just stepped out of the shower, his hair damp, droplets still clinging to his skin.

I shook my head, already backing away from the truth before it could fully form.

Then the second image hit.

“Annie…?”

My voice came out barely above a whisper.

Annie. His secretary. The one who’d been working with him for the past two years.

The one I never, not even for a second, suspected.

“No… no, this has to be fake,” I muttered, my fingers trembling as I stared at the screen. “AI or something… this isn’t real…”

But then the video showed it.

His lips.

On hers.

Not just touching, claiming. Possessive. Familiar.

The same lips that had kissed me this morning.

My stomach twisted violently, and I had to swallow hard to keep from gagging. It felt like something hot and sharp was tearing through my chest, burning everything in its path.

I trusted him.

God, I trusted him with everything.

When my family lost everything, my world collapsed and everyone else walked away, but Ken stayed. He held on, married me anyway.

He became my safe place.

So this… this didn’t make sense.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head as tears blurred my vision. “No, there’s no way…”

I wiped my cheeks quickly, trying to pull myself together.

I just needed to call him again.

That was it.

I’d call him, tell him someone was trying to mess with us, with our marriage. We’d laugh about it. He’d reassure me, and everything would go back to normal.

My fingers moved fast as I dialed his number again.

It connected this time and my heart leaped. True. It must be AI, but instead of his voice…

I heard them.

Their moans, tangled together, intimate and unmistakable.

The world tilted.

Everything inside me collapsed at once, like something I’d built so carefully just… gave out.

The hope I’d been clinging to shattered completely.

Tears spilled down my face, uncontrollable now.

Was it all fake?

All of it?

The breakfasts, the gifts, the way he showed me off like I was something precious, and the way he carried my problems like they were his.

Was I just… convenient?

I don’t even know how long I stayed like that, sitting there, broken and numb, before the door opened.

Ken walked in like nothing had happened. He looked tired, yeah, but he was smiling.

“Babe, I’m sorry I’m late,” he said easily. “Are you ready for your surprise?”

He moved toward me, leaning in like he was about to kiss me where I sat on the couch, like everything was normal, and we were still us.

My body reacted before my mind could catch up. I turned my head before his lips could touch me, pushing myself upright, creating distance between us, and that’s when I caught it.

The scent.

A different perfume, not mine.

“Babe, are you alright?” he asked, concern filling his voice so naturally it almost made me laugh.

If I hadn’t seen the video, I would’ve believed him. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he continued quickly. “But it took a lot of time getting this.”

He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a red velvet box, opening it in front of me.

A diamond necklace sparkled inside, expensive and flawless. Something I would’ve been excited about any other day, but now?

I felt nothing.

All I could see was that video over, and over again. He sat closer, like he wanted to touch me, and I shifted away instinctively, like his skin would burn mine if he did.

He froze, clearly thrown off, but before he could say anything—

His phone rang, and I saw it.

Annie.

Her name lit up the screen, and e didn’t even hesitate. He stood up and rushed to the balcony to answer it.

When he came back, his face had that same apologetic look I’d seen a hundred times before.

“Babe, I’m really sorry, but something came up at the office. I have to go back.”

That excuse. That same exact excuse. How many times had I believed it without question?

The proof was right in front of me now, undeniable, and ugly, and still… part of me had refused to see it until this moment.

But not anymore. The trust I had in him was gone completely.

The love that once felt unshakable started to crack, melting down into something cold and unfamiliar as I watched him rush out the door like he couldn’t get away fast enough.

I sat there, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then I picked up my phone, and I made the call.

“Phoebe,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “I need you to draft a divorce agreement.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Are you sure?” she asked carefully. “Is your husband aware?”

A bitter smile pulled at my lips. “He’s cheating on me.”

Silence. Then, softer, heavier, “Oh.” Even she knew. Everyone knew what we were supposed to be.

The perfect couple.

“In that case,” Phoebe continued, her tone shifting into something more professional, more focused, “you’re going to need to start gathering evidence.”