Chapter 3 (Our First Encounter)

The first weeks of our marriage passed in a cold, unspoken routine.

Don kissed me only when cameras were flashing. Paparazzi lingered outside the estate, eager for a glimpse of the perfect couple. But the moment the lenses turned away, so did he.

At night, I lay in the vast bedroom alone, staring at the ceiling, listening for any sign that he was in the house. I never saw him after dinner. I never heard him come to bed. He existed in his own world, and I was a ghost haunting the periphery.

I learned quickly that there were rules even concerning the houseworkers.

The maids were to tend to my every need. I was not to work. I was not to cook. I was to remain in my room unless summoned. But I refused to be a prisoner in my own home.

The first time I defied him, I waited until I was certain he had left for the day. Then I padded down to the kitchen, my silk robe trailing behind me. The chefs froze when they saw me.

"Mrs. Raymond—"

"Cassie," I corrected. "And I want to make my own breakfast."

They hesitated, exchanging wary glances, “the boss-”

“Is not around,” I said, going for the pan. No one stopped me. Don was too afraid of even his own house staff. Maybe I could tell them a secret and they’d immediately know something they shouldn’t. Something like, it was an arranged marriage and I didn’t really want to be there. It would ruin the perfect couple image.

The smell of butter and eggs filled the air as I moved through the space, savoring the simple act of cracking an egg into a pan.

The next day, I did the same. And the next. Elsie, the maid assigned to my room, was another rule I broke. I did not just talk to her. I became friends with her. She was young, with soft brown eyes and a kindness that made the house feel less suffocating.

"You shouldn’t be doing this," she whispered one morning as I handed her a plate of toast. "If the boss finds out—"

"Then he finds out." I lifted a brow. "Will you tell him?"

She hesitated. Then, slowly, she shook her head.

A silent agreement formed between us. We began taking quiet walks in the garden, slipping out to buy fresh groceries from the market. She told me about the household, the staff, the man I had married but barely knew.

And every evening, I sat across from Don at the long dining table. It was silent unless he spoke. All the staff excused us when we sat down to dinner.

It was not a romantic gesture. Not a moment of warmth. Just a formality.

The plate before me was the only thing between us. He asked me how I spent my day each evening, his gaze assessing, never affectionate. He did not care for my answers, only that I followed his many rules.

But that night, something was different.

Don was uneasy.

His grip on his glass was too tight. His jaw clenched between bites. He barely spoke. Dinner was more awkward than usual, even for the billionaire.

I glanced at Elise, who had just refilled my water. What’s wrong with him? I said with my eyes. When my husband finally went in to take a shower, I grabbed Elsie by the hand. “You know something that I don’t.”

She hesitated before leaning closer. " Yes, I do. He is always like that when Jay is flying into town."

The name sent a ripple through the room, though I didn’t understand why.

"Jay?" I whispered back.

Elise’s eyes darted to Don, as if checking to see if he was listening. "His younger brother."

I set my fork down. "Oh, him. I don’t know much about him." I didn't know anything about my husband’s brother because he freaking missed my wedding.

"Most don’t. They don’t talk about him here."

I frowned. "Why?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Because Jay Raymond wasn’t supposed to succeed. But he did."

Curiosity flared in my chest.

She continued, her hands busy collecting plates. "When their stepfather handed over his business, he left everything to the boss. Every cent. Every property. The company. Jay got nothing."

I gasped. Why would any father do that? And Arthur did not give the vibe of a wicked of partial father

"So Jay left. Started his own business from scratch. And now?" Elise’s eyes flickered with something close to admiration. "He’s one of the only men in the world who can rival your husband."

Her words settled over me.

Who was this Jay? A threat? An outsider who had clawed his way up without the privilege Don had been handed. A stepbrother with a chance to prove himself. I suddenly understood the tension I witnessed radiating from my husband moments before.

Don wasn’t afraid of many things. But his brother was one of them. By extension, I was afraid of him too.

The next morning, I sat on the edge of my bed waiting for Elsie. Waiting for the voice of my husband to fade when he got into the car with Theo. My fingers gripped the soft fabric. Why was it taking Don so long to leave?

I kept waiting for Elsie but soon I got tired. Keeping to the walls of the corridor, I let myself out of the room. Don’s voice reverberated around the house. He barked orders at everyone. House staff scampered along the corridor, carrying out his orders. 

I stopped one of them asnd asked for Elsie. They said that she had gone shopping for me. I was shocked. I did not send her for more clothes or shoes, Don already gave me plenty when i moved in. 

“Do you care to tell the madame of the house what all the fuss is about with my husband?” I asked.

“His brother is coming for dinner.”

The words stung my skin. Every corner, every inch. I gulped and ran back into my room, shutting the door. 

A strange mix of nerves and curiosity twisted in my stomach. I had done my research with Elsie’s phone and Jay was a man of immense significance. Now, I would see him with my own eyes.

Elsie returned after my husband had left. There was a pretty floral dress in her hand she wanted me to try.

“Have you met him before, Elsie? DO you like him?”

“Don’t worry, Cassie,” she said, sensing my trepidation. “Jay will see you looking beautiful. A stylist has been ordered to come over by 2 pm. The boss said that you should be seated by seven, in the new dress.”

She did not even attempt to answer my question. I nodded, though my mind raced with other puzzles.

At precisely two o’clock, the stylist arrived, a petite woman with sharp eyes and deft hands. She worked with quiet efficiency, brushing, curling, pinning my hair into an elegant style I barely recognized as my own.

By the time the evening rolled around, I was a bundle of nerves. The dress Elsie had left for me—a sleek midnight blue gown—hugged my frame in a way that felt both foreign and exquisite. The woman in the mirror who was supposed to be my reflection was the very definition of glamour and sophistication

At seven, I stepped into the grand dining hall where Don and Elsie were already seated, waiting. “You are back early,” I said. Don did not offer any compliment when he looked up and saw me. He just nodded at Elsie, who smiled and left the table. 

The air was thick with anticipation, the long dining table set with gleaming silverware and tall, flickering candles. When at least fifteen minutes passed, the doors opened, and Jay walked in.

My breath caught. He was nothing like I had imagined. Taller, broader, his presence commanding without effort. His dark eyes swept over me with the kind of scrutiny that made me feel exposed, yet seen. Better than I felt when Don’s eyeballs crossed my skin.

“Cassandra,” Don said, standing, his tone carrying an unspoken expectation. “Meet Jay.”

Jay stepped forward, extending a hand. “It’s a pleasure.”

His voice was smooth, and thick like refined honey. It filled my ears with a soothing feeling that made me want to close my eyes as his baritone tickled my eardrum. I took his hand, my fingers cool against his warmth.

“Likewise,” I murmured, though my heart pounded.

As the evening unfolded, I found myself studying him as much as he studied me. Who was Jay? And how did he do it? How did he make my husband so cautious of himself in a way that made me giggle?

I heard his voice again. A deep, rich voice that commanded attention, effortless yet weighted with authority. 

Jay was a lean figure wrapped in a perfectly tailored black suit that did nothing to hide the hard planes of his muscles. When his dark eyes touched my skin, it raised hairs. It lingered on me for a second too long until I could finally swallow. Even though I tried not to peer into his shadowy eyes, there was something in them. Not the cloudy cataracts that were in his stepfather’s eyes. This was something intangible but i decided that i liked it. I adored the way his gaze made me feel electrified. My breath hitched.

Don’s voice pulled me back. "Cassie, why are you staring?"

I swallowed, picking up my glass of water. "I wasn’t."

"As I was saying," Don continued, his usual scrutiny laced in his tone. "You’ve not answered my questions tonight, or is there something on your mind?"

Jay’s gaze flicked to me. I knew he was watching and listening. Too relaxed.

"I—"

Before I could form a reply, Jay leaned back in his chair, his voice smooth as silk. "Maybe she just prefers to observe, Don. Not everyone fills silence with noise."

My cheeks warmed. Don frowned but didn’t push further. I quickly dabbed my mouth with a napkin and stood. "Excuse me," I murmured, stepping out into the cool night air of the garden.

I wandered beneath the hanging lanterns, breathing in the crisp scent of roses. Then, suddenly—footsteps. A presence behind me.

"You ran," Jay said.

I turned to find him leaning against the stone railing, hands in his pockets, eyes glinting in the low light.

"I just needed air."

"Or an escape."

I hesitated before exhaling a quiet laugh. "Maybe both."

He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate. "Don can be… overbearing."

My eyes flickered up to his. "So you noticed?"

"Hard not to." His lips twitched, forming something close to a smirk. "He is my brother. You have more patience than I do."

I hardly believed that. The man was the description of composure and aura. 

A waiter approached, a connoisseur of fine tastes, carrying a bottle of wine. "For you, sir," he said, pouring two glasses, setting them down on a garden table before slipping away. 

Jay lifted his glass, watching me over the rim. I didn’t hesitate. I should have been more resistant to drinking with a stranger. But Jay was probably the only one who understood my pain. He grew up with the monster as an older brother.

 I clinked my glass against his and took a slow sip. The warmth spread through me, but it wasn’t just the wine. It was the way Jay looked at me. It felt like it should have been Don looking at me in that way.

With more sips, my restraints blurred. The soft hum of the garden lights, the crisp night air, the taste of red wine on my lips. And then before I could think, before I could stop myself, I said something that I shouldn’t have. 

“You look at me better than Don looks at me. You talk to me longer than he does, I’m dying to know whether your kiss would feel better than his.”

Jay’s eyes darkened. I started to apologize but his mouth was already on mine. A slow, intoxicating kiss. I barely made out the sound of the waiter’s feet returning to the garden. I had to pull away. Jay’s thumb brushed the corner of my lips, his dark eyes searching mine.

"Careful sweetie," he murmured. "You're playing with fire."

And then, just like that, he stepped back, leaving me alone with the waiter. I touched my lip with my hand to savour the feel of his skin against mine. The sensation of his touch and the pounding of my heart.