His Brother’s Bride
I hovered at the doorway, drowning in the weight of my gown and the suffocating air of indifference.
Alexander Westwood didn’t say a word. He walked straight to the minibar, poured himself a drink like this was just another business deal, like we hadn’t just stood in front of a hundred guests, pretending we were in love.
He looked every bit the powerful CEO, ice in a perfectly tailored suit.
I stood frozen, fists clenched around my veil, the ache in my chest spreading like wildfire.
“Do you always look this calm after marrying your brother’s fiancée?” I asked, my voice low.