All Chapters of The Discarded Heiress: Married To My Ex Fiancé’s Brother: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Lenora A soft knock pulled me from my sleep before my alarm even had the chance to. “Mrs. Vance?” Marta’s voice drifted through the door before she stepped inside, a folded robe draped over one arm. “Breakfast will be down in the dining room this morning. Mr. Vance is already there, waiting for you.” “Not my usual breakfast, I see,” I said, arching a brow as I pushed myself upright. Marta smiled, that same soft smile she'd worn on my very first morning here, back when everything about this place still felt like a fever dream I hadn't woken up from. It somehow still did. “Seems like it,” she said simply, offering nothing more. I quickly slipped on the robe, curiosity outweighing my grogginess, and made my way downstairs. The dining table was practically groaning under the weight of it—stacks of pancakes drizzled with syrup, fresh fruit arranged like it belonged in a magazine spread, eggs cooked three different ways, pastries I couldn’t even name. It looked like something straig

Lenora By the time I got back to the office, Elias had suggested it was better to play office than just sit around in one place all day. “The whole point is to show you off, let people see you,” he smiled. “So let’s show you off.” I agreed. I had to look the part after all, but I sure didn’t know that it would be the worst mistake I’d made all day. Lena made it her personal agenda to ensure I didn’t get a break. Not even for a second. It started with a meeting invite—one Elias had specifically asked her to loop me into for a quick client briefing—that somehow never made it to my inbox. I showed up five minutes into the meeting with nothing but my phone in hand while everyone else flipped through printed materials, and Lena's apology was so sweet it curdled. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I could’ve sworn I sent that,” she said, pressing a hand dramatically to her chest, her eyes wide with a concern that never quite reached her smile. Then there was the moment I walked past her de

Lenora I carried that warmth with me down to breakfast, where Elias was already at the table, scrolling through something on his phone with his usual unbothered composure. I scooped up some eggs and bacon and began stuffing them into my mouth. If nothing else, the cook here was amazing. I needed to ask for the recipe so I could make this myself when all of this was over. When all of this was over, huh? I slowly lowered my fork. That was right. When everything was said and done, and we’d finally gotten our revenge… there wouldn’t be much reason for us to stay together anymore. Would there? I’d go back to my own life. But what exactly did that look like? Before becoming Lenora Hampton, I was Lenora Sinclair. And that version of myself felt far too distant to reach anymore. To them… I meant nothing. There was no universe where they’d ever accept me. So who was I? Outside of being the tragic fiancée and the discarded heiress. “Would you like to come to the office with me again

Lenora I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. The world around us had narrowed to the hot press of Elias's mouth against mine, the firm, solid warmth of his body against my own. He tasted like coffee and sin, a heady combination that made all my senses go into overdrive. His hands moved over my body, sure and confident, mapping out every curve, every dip and swell. He found the hem of my shirt and slid his cold hands underneath, making me shiver. His fingers skimmed over the sensitive skin of my waist, my ribs, my back. I arched into his touch, desperate for more, greedy for the feel of his hands on me. I could barely register what was happening anymore—every nerve in my body buzzing, my mind too overwhelmed to form a single coherent thought. My entire being was drunk on him. One moment we were standing in the middle of his room; the next, he'd obliterated every inch of distance between us. I could hardly think straight, my breath catching as his fingers traced the shell of my ea

Elias Sleep didn’t come. I laid flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the exhaustion of the day to finally catch up and drag me under. It never did. My mind kept circling back to the same place, the same handful of hours, the same moment I’d apparently lost the plot completely. It wasn’t guilt, exactly. Not about what had happened between us, at least. If anything, some reckless, unguarded part of me would happily relive every second of it What kept me staring at the ceiling long after midnight was the question of why I’d let it happen in the first place. I always saw myself as a man of control. Five steps ahead, always. I didn’t move without knowing exactly where the move would land, without calculating the fallout three pieces down the board before I ever touched a single one. That discipline was the only reason Vantage existed at all—the only reason I’d built something out of spite that was now worth more than the empire my father had spent years assemblin