While My Husband Cheated I Married His Powerful Brother novel Chapter 88

Chapter 88: Chapter 88 Balancing the Scales

Dorian’s gaze stayed on Veyra.

She felt the weight of it, cold and heavy.

Then his eyes moved to the black bag on the table. The one the butler had delivered. The one she had set aside.

“Why aren’t you wearing them?” he asked.

His voice was flat and it was not loud. But the question was cut.

Veyra’s stomach tightened.

She had hoped he wouldn’t notice.

She had put the gloves back in the bag, meaning to return them.

“They’re too valuable,” she said. “I was going to give them back.”

Dorian’s jaw tightened.

“Valuable?”

“Leon told me what they are. Who made them.” She glanced at the bag. “I can’t wear something worth that much. I’d be afraid to scratch them.”

Dorian stared at her.

His expression did not change, but something behind his eyes flickered.

He had not expected her to know.

Leon must have told her. Or she had figured it out herself.

Either way, she knew. And she had still refused to wear them.

He pressed two fingers to his temple.

A headache was starting. Low and dull.

“Ghost’s work cannot be returned,” he said. “If you won’t wear them, throw them away.”

Veyra blinked very hard.

“Throw them away?”

“They were made for you. If you don’t want them, they have no other use.” He paused. “Until your hands heal, all training is suspended. You are not to wear any rough gloves. Understood?”

Her eyes widened.

“You can’t suspend my training.”

“I just did.”

“Dorian—”

“No argument.” His voice was final. “Your hands need to heal. Raw skin and open wounds invite infection. You will rest.”

Veyra’s heart raced.

She could not stop training. She needed to be strong. But she also did not want to owe him anything. The gloves, the money, the protection.

She turned and walked to the walk‑in closet.

Dorian watched her go.

A moment later she returned, holding a small brown bottle. No label. Dark glass. A dropper cap.

“What is that?” he asked.

“Essential oil.” She held it out. “I extracted it myself. Valerian root, lavender, a few other things. It’s good for headaches. Sleep. Anxiety.”

He did not take it.

“It’s one of a kind,” she added. “Like the gloves.”

Dorian reached out. His fingers brushed hers as he took the bottle.

He turned it over in his hand. The glass was warm from her palm.

“Is it necessary,” he said slowly, “for us to keep things so strictly balanced?”

Veyra met his eyes.

“The gloves are too valuable. I have nothing of equal worth to give you.”

“You don’t need to give me anything.”

“I know.” She paused. “But this bottle is the only suitable offering I have. I made it myself. It’s from me. Not from your money or your house.”

Dorian held the bottle up to the light. The liquid inside was pale amber.

“You think I have ulterior motives,” he said.

Veyra laughed. A real laugh, short and bright.

“How narcissistic are you?”

Dorian’s eyebrows rose.

“Not everything is about you,” she said. “I made that oil months ago. I just thought you could use it. You look tired.”

He stared at her.

Then, slowly, he pocketed the bottle.

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