In Love With My Fiancée's Brother

The Wrong that felt Right.

Damian's POV

My name is Damian Vale. I'm twenty-five years old and the only son of industrialist Maxwell Vale. I'm the heir to a huge fortune that can buy politicians and banks. When people hear my name, they think of power, beauty, and honor. But they failed to see the cage.

Born with a lot of money? To me It's more like a rock. When I was young, love was a business deal and emotions were things that could go wrong. There were rumors that my mother had a "nervous condition" when she disappeared when I was six years old. That was the last time I saw her. Since then, it's had been just me and my father and trust me, fear doesn't exist in his world.

Before I turned 13, I was trained to run Vale International. Every aspect of my life was perfectly planned: elite schools, carefully selected friends. I can sort my friends by their last names. And even arranged dates. There's no room for mistakes or secrets….except for one: my true self, the one I hid behind fancy clothes and fake smiles.

I'm a gay.

But in my father's world, that would mean the end of me. People can't think of a Vale heir as weird, weak, or even shocking. That's why I played the part. Attended galas with stars. Grinned for the cameras. Laughed at jokes that weren't funny to me. That being said, tomorrow was my last show.

My engagement.

And the bride? Lila Bennett. Bennett Holdings is one of the few companies strong enough to compete with my father. It is run by her father. They've been enemies for a long time, but this marriage? It would combine their assets and make a union that would protect them from being harmed.

But there is just one problem: I've only met LIla once. She was... nice. Polite and buffed up. Exactly someone like me who was raised to play a part. I don't love her or hate her. Not even close.

And love? That part of me hasn't had feed in years.

But tonight, I was done pretending.

I told the waiter, "Pour it again," and quickly passed him my platinum card.

He made a face. "Rough night?"

"Rough life."

I sipped the drink quickly and let it burn my throat. The bar was dark, loud, and full of people and music. Just the way I liked it—somewhere between fancy and crazy. It's safe enough to fit in, but crazy enough to forget.

My tie was already gone. The buttons on the top of my shirt are undone. People looked at me, whispered, and maybe knew who I was. I didn't mind. Let them to talk.

My phone buzzed. Dad again.

"Get to the estate at 9 a.m." No excuses. The press will be there soon.”

I flipped the phone over and took another shot.

What am I even doing? Trying to enjoy a night of freedom? Or desperately scratching at something real before I was chained for life?

The DJ changed the song, and the bass could be heard through the walls. There was cheering. A group of girls danced on a table. Someone fell asleep on a couch. There was a lot of laughter.

Then I saw him.

Having a drink, he stood on the edge of the room, close to the pool table. Tall, with sharp jaws and a calm confidence that screamed danger. We looked at each other. He didn't turn away.

My chest felt hot.

I got up on the bar.

People laughed and clapped as they turned.

I put my glass up. "Drinks on me!"

Cheers filled the room

I laughed. I wasn't Vale International this time. I wasn't the ideal heir. I was just a guy that had nothing to lose.

I jumped down, pushed through the people, and walked right toward him.

The closer I got, the bigger his grin got. He looked at me and said, "Let me guess, bachelor party?"

"Something like that."

"You don’t look happy about it."

I pulled him down by his shirt.

After that I kissed him.

It was exciting. Raw. Without a doubt. It smelled like booze and challenge on his lips. He pulled me closer by putting his hand around my waist. The club broke up around us.

He didn't ask anything. I wasn't there to answer.

We were tired and hungry when we left.

The cab ride was quiet, but there were sneaky touches and sly smiles. I didn't care to ask for his name. I don't want to spoil the mood with words.

We didn't waste time at the hotel. When I slammed the door behind us, he was on me like gravity.

We kissed again, but this time it was harder. Piece by piece, clothes fall to the floor. His belt, my tie, and my shirt again, this time wrapped around his hand.

He pushed me onto the bed and sat on top of me. His eyes were fixed on mine.

"Still thinking about tomorrow?"

"No…nothing matters right now."

His lips moved along my neck like fire. He teased me by sliding his hand under my belt. I wanted more with all my heart. I let go. Completely.

There were no hopes or plans. No roles. Just hands, lips, skin.

He took control, but not in a way that felt forceful. It felt like submitting to someone who knew exactly what I needed. When he touched me, it wasn’t just lust. It was like he was trying to strip away everything fake and find the real me underneath.

I don't know him. But he knew me better than anyone else ever had.

My legs trembled when he thrusted inside me. It was painful but satisfying at the same time. I held on to the sheets with my fingers. When he touched me, every nerve in my body lit up. Slowly at first, quickly at second, teasingly and then he moved with purpose. He said things in my ear that made me shiver and grounded me as if I meant something to him.

I felt something I hadn't felt in years when we both reach climax.

Alive. God, that felt so good.

We fell on the pillows, out of breath. He pressed his chest against my back as he put his arm around my waist. I kept quiet. I didn't need to.

For the first time in years, I felt full and warm as I fell asleep in his arms.

~~~~~

Sunlight cut through the curtains, blinding me.

I groaned, turning my face into the pillow. My body hurt in the best way. My mouth was dry, head pounding. The room had a smell of sweat, sex, and expensive sheets.

Something moved next to me.

I looked around.

He was still there.

Lying on his side, with one arm over his eyes and his hair all messed up. He had a small gap between his lips. His chest moved slowly up and down.

My heart stuttered. I rubbed my face with my hands to see if I wasn't hallucinating.

He wasn't a dream.

I slowly got out of bed, and the sheet fell around my waist. I looked around the room. Our clothes were all over the place. There were texts on my phone.

But all I could do was to stared at him.

I had no idea what his name was.

Yet I could still feel him on every part of my body.

I felt like him every time I breathed.

The worst part?

It felt right

Heart beating fast, I ran my hand through my hair.

Who was he?

Also, why did it feel like the worst mistake I'd ever made was also the only one that felt real?

I looked at him with confusion and a desire for more.

I was sure of one thing: this wasn't over.

Not even close.