Chapter 3

Hank Renfrow, the old industry titan, took one look at the situation and immediately understood.

"Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Searle? You're usually so cold and controlled, but the second someone messes with your stepmom, you just lose it, don't you? Now that you've taken over the Searle fortune, what's next? Are you planning to take her too?"

The crowd burst out laughing.

Before Brandon could react, Nina grabbed his arm and pulled it down. He swallowed his anger, let go of Hank, and snatched up a glass to ease the tension.

"I respect every one of you here. That was out of line, and I apologize. Let me propose a toast to all of you."

Rosalie stood outside the door, her heart aching as she watched the scene unfold. Everyone knew Brandon never drank. But tonight, he downed three glasses for Nina's sake.

Still, the big shots weren't satisfied. They insisted Nina drink three rounds herself.

Brandon stepped in front of her, shielding her from their demands. "Her health isn't good. She can't handle alcohol. I'll drink for her."

"Well, Mr. Searle, if you've already had three, what's a few more?"

They refilled his glass again and again until he had downed more than a dozen drinks. By the time the bottles ran dry, even the big shots had to admit they were impressed by how much he could hold.

"I've been drinking with you all today, so just do me this one favor—leave my stepmom alone. Push me on this and you'll wish you hadn't."

Without another word, Brandon grabbed Nina's hand and strode out of the private lounge. He didn't see Rosalie standing just outside. In his hurry, he threw the door open with such force that it sent her sprawling to the floor.

As she fell, an antique vase toppled from the cabinet, striking her head with a sickening crack. Blood immediately began pouring down her face, drenching her outfit in crimson.

A horrified waiter scrambled to call an ambulance.

Rosalie lifted her head, her vision swimming with blood. The only thing she could make out was Brandon walking away with Nina without a glance back or even a flicker of recognition that she had ever been there.

And this was the man she had chosen to marry in secret, betraying her parents, friends, and everyone who trusted her.

She knew better than anyone how the Searles had nearly crushed the Lardners years ago and almost ruined her father, Rolf. And still, she had loved Brandon against all reason.

A bitter laugh tore from her throat. She had no one to blame but herself.

Half an hour later, an ambulance took Rosalie to the hospital. She had her head wound treated alone. There were ten stitches in total.

That night, she stayed in the hospital by herself.

…

Rosalie woke up the next morning to find that Brandon still hadn't called. She checked her phone and saw the video Nina had posted the night before. No faces were visible, but Rosalie immediately recognized Brandon's hands blow-drying Nina's hair.

The caption was pure Nina, sly and misleading as always. "He worries I'll get lonely, so he stays with me sometimes. He has grown up so thoughtful, making me proud."

The whole act was just a front for what was really happening between Nina and Brandon. Somehow, everyone bought it.

Rosalie's blood boiled. This was how Brandon and Nina had tricked her into a bland marriage.

She had given up everything for him, molding herself into his perfect woman. She even stopped drinking her favorite wine because he couldn't stand the smell. And for what? In the end, he still chose Nina.

The moment the idea struck her, Rosalie picked up the phone and called a reporter. "Mr. Declan Searle's widow is having an affair with some man at Searle Manor. Stake the place out and you'll get your front-page scoop."

It hadn't even been a year since Declan's death. For someone of the Searles' standing, Nina jumping into a relationship with Brandon so soon was sure to cause a scandal.

But after two hours, there was still no sign of the photos online.

Just as Rosalie was about to leave the hospital, Brandon's call came through. His voice was cold. "Get to Seaforth Club. Now."