While My Husband Cheated I Married His Powerful Brother novel Chapter 6
Chapter 6 Walk Away
“Don’t lie to me. I have one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel. I want a great-grandchild. Or a wedding. Something happy before I turn into dirt.”
“—find someone. I don’t care how. Surrogate, contract marriage, whatever works. Just get it done. I need a child and a wife by the end of the month. My grandmother is dying.”
He was quiet for a long moment.
“She tried to kill me.”
She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her ankle screamed. She ignored it. She grabbed the IV pole and hobbled into the hallway.
He turned the corner and disappeared.
“I promise.”
She lay in the dimming room, listening to the beep of the machines. Her hands were shaking — not from fear, but from how tightly she’d held herself together, tight enough that she’d nearly forgotten to breathe.
“Because right now,” she said, “what scares you isn’t me leaving you. It’s me leaving with a recording, a paper trail, and a police report you just made disappear. You want to throw me out, but you’re more afraid I’ll walk away and end up better off than you. So you’ll hesitate. You’ll wait. You’ll try threats first, see if that scares me back into shape.”
He did not speak. He did not move. His eyes stayed on her face, unreadable.
“Is that what you call helping me?” Her voice sharpened for the first time. “Using my mother’s surgery money to buy someone else a Chanel bag? Letting her run me down in the street and then walking her attempted murder charge out the door with a handshake? You’re not helping me, Caspian. You’re spending my life to buy your own convenience, and expecting me to thank you for it.”
Still, he said nothing.
He was at the end of the corridor, still on his phone and his back to her.
She thought about her mother. About dying alone in a hospital room while her daughter sat in a waiting room, trusting a man who had already signed her mother’s death warrant.
“You,” he said.
He was wearing a gray suit. No tie. His hair was messier than she remembered, like he had been running his hands through it. He was talking on his phone, his voice low and clipped.
“Think it over, Veyra.” He finally found his voice and turned toward the door, delivering one last threat. “While you’re lying in this hospital bed, think about what happens if I throw you out tomorrow. Because I can. And I will.”
1
“It’s yours,” she said. “From that night we slept together without protection. I haven’t slept with my husband in weeks. The timing matches. You can demand a paternity test if you want. But I’m telling you the truth.”
“You’re thirty, Veyra.” He shifted tactics, his voice taking on a cruel, deliberate pity. “You’re not young anymore. You’re not as pretty as you used to be. You’ve let yourself go. Who do you think wants you now? Who marries a woman with no money and no future?”
She limped toward him. Each step sent fire up her leg but she did not stop.
It was Dorian.
“I am completely capable of making a statement,” Veyra said.
She took a breath.
“She hired someone to run me over.” Her voice came out sharper than she expected, carrying further than the small room should have allowed. “I want her arrested. Tonight. I want to press charges, I want a restraining order, I want—”
“You’re right,” she said. “No job. No skills. No references. All true.”
“She made a mistake in a moment of panic.” His voice was flat now, businesslike. “And if you drag this into a courtroom, into the press, it doesn’t just take her down, Veyra. It takes me down with her. My name’s on every headline she’s ever been photographed near. You think Thorne Tech’s board wants to read about an attempted murder charge tied to my mistress the same quarter we’re closing the Meridian acquisition?”
Veyra stared at the empty doorway.
The officer glanced between them, then nodded, the particular nod of a man who dealt with rich men in hospital rooms often enough to know which battles weren’t his to fight. He stepped out and pulled the door shut behind him.
A younger voice answered and it was a male and his voice was low. “Grandmother, you’re not going anywhere.”
She was breathing hard. Sweat on her forehead. Her hospital gown was thin and ugly. Her hair was a mess. She looked exactly like what she was: a woman who had been hit by a car, abandoned by her husband, and left with nothing but a broken ankle and a secret.
She closed her eyes and waited for the tears.
The door shut behind him, harder than it had opened.
“Officer, if I could just—” Caspian was already moving, already stepping between her and the man with the notebook, his hand raised in a gesture that looked, to anyone who didn’t know him, like concern. “My wife’s been through a serious trauma. A car accident, a hospitalization, and now this news, all in the same day. She’s not in a state to make statements right now.”
“It’s someone you know.”
They didn’t come.
*******
Then his mouth curved. That slow smile. The one she remembered from the bar.
He blinked, clearly not expecting agreement.
The man sighed. Veyra could hear the exhaustion in it. It was the sigh that came from having the same conversation a hundred times.
“It means I’ll see what I can do.”
“That means no.”
Veyra walked past the neighboring hospital room, steadying herself against the wall.
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