All Chapters of Married To The Wrong Brother: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

This was my father’s house and I knew where the stones didn't fit, where hedges concealed narrow paths the guards never bothered with. I knew the blind spots created by an old apple tree and a wooden door.I moved when the perimeter guard turned the corner, counting his steps the way I had as a child – one, two, three, then slipping forward while his back was turned. I stayed low near the rose trellis, then cut across the gravel path, wincing at the sound but not stopping.The gate near the eastern wall had a latch that stuck. Everyone complained about it yet no one fixed it. I lifted it but felt the resistance, then eased myself through sideways, pulling it shut behind me.I’d done this countless times before, forced to attend one of Nelly’s parties just to prove my loyalty, or the sleepovers my father forbade when Davina’s stalker issue had flared.But tonight felt different. For the first time all evening, my chest expanded fully. I stepped into the dark, letting the quiet street s

The label wasn’t written on the front like the others, but along the side. I stared at the envelope, hoping stupidly that I had read it wrong. This wasn’t recent. The paper was worn, handled more than once. Whatever was inside had been opened, considered, then buried again. I swallowed, suddenly aware of how quiet the room was, and slid my finger beneath the seal. I lowered myself into the chair without realizing my knees had given way. There was no confession here, no apology or attempt to justify what had been done. Dates and names were recorded in the impersonal style of men who demanded submission rather than pardon. My father's name appeared with the De Laurentiis seal and the Cosa Nostra code underneath it years ago, following an almost catastrophic betrayal. Under one condition, an unfeasible option offered as mercy, he had been spared execution. My hands went numb and the envelope slid from my thighs and landed softly on the floor, the faint sound causing my head to sn

“Marco!” my mom yelled. “You snake. You jerk. You think because my husband is dead –”“That’s enough, Eleonora,” he cut in, “this behavior is exactly why we’re here.”As two more men hurried in, one of them handed him a plastic file, and he continued to look me down.“Your mother,” he said with a downward-curving mouth as he passed me, “is unwell.”“Grieving –”“She’s unstable.”I stepped into his path before he could reach her. “She’s fine,” I stated. “She’s upset. Anyone would be upset. You can't just storm into our house and decide – what is this, huh?”“Your mother's condition has been deteriorating for months. Public incidents. Emotional instability. Refusal to comply with medical advice,” he replied without hesitation, unpinned the file, and slid a stack of papers free. When he extended them toward me and I didn’t move, he placed them on the couch beside him.A faint smirk stretched his lips.“Escalating paranoia. Attempts to obstruct company operations. I won’t allow it to spir

“Wrong room.” I whirled around at the same moment. They were both unfazed. The taller one's lips extended into a smile. “Are you sure?” he inquired. I followed his tilted chin to the sign above the door.The hairs on the back of my neck rose like spikes at the glowing sign that marked the men's restroom from the women's. I was indeed in the wrong restroom. I gasped, picked up my hand bag, and started past them. I let go of a breath I hadn't realized I was holding as I passed the first man.Just inches from the door, solid fingers clamped around my arm and pulled me back so suddenly my shoulder erupted with pain.My heart lurched fiercely in my chest as I sucked in a breath through my teeth.“Hey,” the second man said mildly, like I’d bumped into him instead of the other way around. “Relax. Just a moment.”Something chilly slid along my spine. My body went alert in a manner I hadn't experienced in years. I took a while to pull away. Rather, I relaxed my arm to test his hold and bu

That was the part that scared me the most. People didn’t do things like this without a reason. Was it my father? His company? My mother? Had Marco gone even further than I’d imagined? Had he orchestrated this the same way he did everything else?I drove my shoulder into the door. Pain shot down my shoulder blade and into my arm that it stole my breath. “Stupid,” I hissed more at myself than the door, and staggered back.I kicked it anyway. Once. Then again, higher this time. The impact rattled my bones, pain flaring up my leg and into my hip, but the door didn’t even shudder.“Why won’t this stupid door just open?” I shouted, my voice breaking despite my effort to keep it steady. The sound died the moment it left me, swallowed by the walls.My legs gave out, and I dropped to my knees, panting. The ache in my chest deepened.“Door, open.” The blood in my body solidified, and I went popeyed.My head snapped up as I stared at the door, my mind struggling to make sense of what had just