All Chapters of Forbidden By Her Sister's Husband : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

The heat of the cemetery slammed back into Aria's senses. She gasped, her hand flying to her chest. The memory was so vivid she could still smell the rain."Aria?"She spun around. Alex stood a few feet away, holding a small bouquet of wildflowers. His expression was soft, concerned."What are you doing here?" she whispered."I knew your father wouldn't come," Alex said quietly. "I didn't want you to be alone."Aria's eyes stung. "You remembered.""Of course I did." He stepped closer, his voice gentle. "You shouldn't be out here in this heat. You look exhausted.""I'm fine. I just needed to say goodbye.""You've been saying goodbye for fifteen years, Aria." Alex hesitated, then added softly, "You were nine years old. It wasn't your fault.""It was," she choked out. "If I hadn't opened the door—""You were a child who loved her mother," Alex interrupted. "That's all."He held out his hand, not touching her, just offering. "Let me take you to breakfast. Just for an hour. You need to get

"You're hurting me right now.""No. I'm holding you." He released one wrist and moved his hand to her waist, his fingers splaying across her ribs. "There's a difference."He stepped closer, his chest pressing against her back. Aria could feel the texture of his suit against her bare skin, the heat of him bleeding through the layers of expensive fabric. His other hand released her remaining wrist and moved up, his fingers tracing the line of her spine from the small of her back to the nape of her neck."You have a scar here," he murmured. His fingertip found a small raised line between her shoulder blades. "How did this happen?""I fell when I was twelve," Aria breathed. "Down the stairs at the estate. No one took me to the hospital.""Of course they didn't." His hand flattened against her back, his palm covering the scar. "They've been letting you bleed for years."He moved his hand higher, finding the clasp of her bra. He unhooked it with practiced efficiency, the straps falling loose

"Aria Hale?"She turned. A man stood behind her, holding two champagne flutes. Tall, maybe forty, dark hair graying at the temples. Navy tuxedo with a burgundy pocket square. His smile was practiced, charming."I'm sorry, do I know you?" Aria asked."Julian Grayson. Grayson Industrial Holdings. I've worked with your father on a few acquisitions." He offered one of the champagne flutes. "You look like you could use this."Aria took it with her good hand. "Thank you.""I have to say, I've heard about the Hale sisters, but I had no idea Desmond was hiding such a gem." His eyes traveled down the emerald dress. "You're quite stunning tonight.""That's kind of you to say.""Tell me, do you dance?" Julian set his glass down and offered his hand. "I'd be honored."Aria hesitated. She looked around the ballroom. Damian was across the room with the board members. Cassandra was near the stage, watching like a hawk. Her father was nowhere to be seen.She'd been told to stay in the back. To be invi

The August sun was merciless the morning after the gala.Damian sat in his office on the fifty floor, staring at the newspaper spread across his desk. Page six of the society section. The photograph took up half the page.Him. Aria. Mid-waltz. His hand on her waist. Her face tilted up toward his. The emerald dress catching the light like water.The headline read: Cross Industries CEO Dances with Sister-in-Law at Charity Gala – Eyebrows RaisedHis phone had been ringing since 6 AM. Board members. Investors. Colleagues asking casual questions that weren't casual at all. His assistant had fielded twelve calls before nine o'clock.And then the message that mattered came through.Your father requests your presence at the estate. 2 PM. Don't be late.Damian looked at his watch. 1:10 PM.He stood, grabbed his jacket, and left without a word to anyone.The Cross estate sat on five acres in Greenwich, Connecticut. Old money. Old power. The kind of property that had been in the family for three

The penthouse is filled with the sound of laughter and champagne glasses clinking. Aria stands in the doorway of the kitchen, watching the staff arrange platters of pastries and fruit on the marble island."Is everything ready?" she asks one of the servers."Yes, Miss Hale. Mrs. Cross said she wants service to begin at eleven sharp."Aria nods. Cassandra is hosting a brunch for her social circle—five women from Manhattan's elite families, all dripping in designer clothes and inherited wealth. Aria wasn't invited as a guest. She was summoned to "oversee the staff" which really means to be available if Cassandra needs someone to humiliate.Damian left for Chicago this morning for a three-day conference. Cassandra waited exactly two hours after his departure before calling Aria up from the archives."There you are," Cassandra's voice rings out from the living room. "Come here. Now."Aria walks into the living room. Five women are seated on the velvet sofas, all perfectly styled, their eye