Be My Best Man

Hana’s arm held Elijah’s hand as they walked around, greeting every one of the guests.

Her chin hurt from smiling too much.

Elijah introduced her to all of them — his business partners, A-list celebrities, his friends, and his parents’ acquaintances.

Some had been warm. Others looked at her like she was something that didn’t quite belong on Elijah’s arm.

“This is Mr. and Mrs. Lloyds, the owners of Lloyds Pharma,” Elijah said, gesturing to the couple. “And this is my fiancée, Hana Verlice.”

“Oh, she’s as pretty as the news says,” the elderly woman said with a bright smile. She had to be close to eighty. “You did well, Elijah. Now I don’t feel so bad you didn’t end up with my granddaughter. But do let me know if it doesn’t work out — the offer still stands.”

She laughed at her own words, and her husband gave her a light nudge, silently telling her to stop.

The smile on Hana’s lips faltered. Her fingers pressed harder around Elijah’s arm.

He laughed it off, polite, like he always was. He rubbed her hand gently.

As they moved on, he leaned in.

“I’m sorry about that. There was a bit of an… arrangement with the Lloyds, but it didn’t work out.”

Hana stiffened.

“You don’t have to apologize, Elijah. This was also an arrangement to begin with. I didn’t expect you wouldn’t have had other… options before me,” she said, her smile tight as she looked up at him.

He didn’t respond. His jaw clenched slightly, but he quickly masked it when another couple walked up.

Marjorie hadn’t lied. Elijah was perfect.

Tall. Handsome. Kind in that practiced, Carter way.

The kind of man any woman would dream of.

She might have dreamed of him too, if her heart didn’t ache for someone else.

Someone who had made it clear — too clear — that he wanted nothing to do with her.

She fought the need to look around for him. Fought the thought of him in this crowd.

It was humiliating, this... want. This endless reaching for someone who kept pushing her back.

And all of it over just three months of being together.

Three months that started with a one-night stand she swore she wouldn’t have.

They’d met at the birthday party of a mutual friend, chatting and drinking throughout the night like they’d known each other for years.

She’d told him she didn’t sleep with strangers on the first night. And yet, by midnight, she was in his bed.

Hana hadn’t thought it was possible, but that was the most she had ever felt for another human.

She hated people. But she wanted to crawl into his skin.

She hated cooking. But she’d wanted to make him breakfast. Anything. Just to watch him eat it.

She’d memorized his laugh — that breathy chuckle he made when she told a bad joke.

And when she’d pout, he’d kiss her and say she was the funniest person he’d ever met.

She didn’t even realize how hard her grip had become until Elijah tapped her lightly.

“You okay?” he asked.

She blinked fast, lashes fluttering as she loosened her hold. “Yes. I’m just nervous.”

“Sorry,” Elijah said, his voice soft. “I know it’s been hectic. We’ll be done soon. You’ll rest tomorrow — I told Mother we won’t be receiving guests, so the full weekend is off.”

She smiled at him. Or tried to. But the smile dropped the second he turned her toward the man standing by the bar.

Her feet stopped moving. Her chest hollowed out.

He stood casually, a champagne flute in his hand. And when his eyes met theirs, he smiled.

“I haven’t introduced you to my brother,” Elijah said as he walked to him and hugged him tightly.

“Congrats on your engagement,” Dante said, patting his back.

Then Elijah turned to her. “This is Hana. Hana, meet Dante.”

Hana’s smile was forced, rigid, and then she stretched out her hand.

Dante looked at it for a second too long, then took it.

Hana felt her entire body melt at his touch. Her other hand clenched at her side. Her legs almost gave way.

God, she had missed him. Missed him in places she didn’t know could ache.

Her eyes blurred. She looked away.

“It’s nice meeting you, Hana.” Dante’s voice was low. Soft.

“She’s beautiful,” he said as he held her hand for a second too long, then let her go.

Her palm suddenly felt cold when he released hers.

She looked up at him again, hoping for something. A glance. A flicker of longing. But he was already looking at Elijah.

“When’s the wedding?” she heard him ask.

Elijah turned to look at her. “In three months. September.”

Dante nodded. “Oh… that’s close.”

“You’ll be my best man, right? And you can’t say no,” Elijah said with a grin.

Dante didn’t answer right away.

He stared at his brother and the excitement that played on his features.

Elijah had been difficult to read ever since childhood. He was kind to him, but whenever his mother spoke harshly to him, he never said anything.

Which always made Dante wonder which side he was really on.

And even six months ago, when Marjorie had told him he would take a fall for Elijah or risk his name being erased from the family tree, Elijah had said nothing. He just stared silently.

Dante didn’t want to hold it against him, but it was difficult sometimes.

Especially now, he wondered if Elijah knew about him and Hana.

Dante swallowed and smiled faintly. “Ryan would kill me.”

“I’ve told him already,” Elijah said. “It’s settled then.”

Hana dropped her gaze. Her stomach twisted.

So this was it. She’d say yes to one brother while the one she couldn’t stop loving stood next to him on the altar.

Her heart squeezed with an indescribable pain.

“Excuse me,” she said quietly. “I need the restroom.”

Both men turned to her, but before they could speak, she pulled her hand from Elijah’s arm and walked away.

Hana dragged herself into the restroom, forcing a smile as she walked past the guests.

But she barely made it two steps into the restroom before a hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her into one of the stalls.

“What the—” she started, panic flashing across her face. But then a hand clamped over her mouth.

And her wide, stunned eyes locked onto a familiar pair of blue ones.

Her chest stilled.

“Dante,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his hand.