Two days before my wedding, I found my fiancé with his tongue in another woman's mouth.

The Grand Halston lobby was all gold light and polished marble. I had come to drop off the seating chart. Nolan Kessler, the man I was supposed to marry on Saturday, had a redhead pinned against the elevator wall.

"Nolan."

He didn't jump. He didn't even flinch. He just pulled back, wiped his lower lip with his thumb, and turned his head.

The woman kept her fingers laced through his. Nolan didn't shake her off.

"Elise." He said my name like I was a waiter who had brought the wrong drink. "You weren't supposed to be here until six."

"That's your answer?" The seating chart crumpled in my fist. "That's what you're going with?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to explain why your hand is still holding hers."

The redhead smiled at me. Actually smiled. "Should I give you two a minute?"

"Stay," Nolan told her. Then he looked back at me, bored. "We're getting married, Elise. That doesn't change. This doesn't change it."

"You think I'll still walk down that aisle?"

"I think you're a Marlow." He shrugged. "And Marlows do what they're told."

The elevator chimed open behind them. He stepped inside with her, and the doors slid shut on his calm, handsome face.

I stood there until a bellhop asked if I needed help. I told him no. Then I drove home way too fast.

My father was in his study with a glass of scotch and a stack of contracts. He didn't look up when I burst in.

"Cancel it."

"Knock first, Elise."

"I said cancel the wedding." My voice cracked on the last word. "Nolan is sleeping with someone else. I saw them. At the Halston. He didn't even try to hide it."

Richard Marlow set down his pen. He finally raised his eyes, and there was nothing in them. No shock. No anger for me.

"And?"

I laughed. It came out sharp and wrong. "And? Dad, did you hear me?"

"I heard you. Men have affairs. It isn't the end of the world."

"It's the end of mine!" I slammed both hands on his desk. "I'm not marrying him. Call Mr. Kessler. Tell him it's off."

He stood up. He came around the desk slowly, buttoning his jacket like he was walking into a board meeting.

The slap snapped my head sideways.

For a second I heard nothing but ringing. My cheek burned. I tasted copper where my teeth had cut the inside of my mouth.

"Do you understand what this marriage is?" His voice stayed low and even. "The Kessler money is holding up our entire credit line. Two hundred million, Elise. If this wedding doesn't happen, the bank calls our loans by Monday."

I pressed my palm to my face. "So I'm collateral."

"You're my daughter. You'll act like it."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you walk out of this house with the clothes on your back." He picked up his scotch again. "I'll freeze your accounts. Your trust. Your car. Your cards. You'll have nothing. No friends will take you in, because their fathers all do business with me."

I stared at him. The man who used to braid my hair before school.

"You'd really do that."

"Try me."

I didn't remember leaving. I only remembered the rain starting halfway down the driveway, and my car keys digging into my palm.

I ended up on the Ridgemont Bridge at midnight.

The railing was so cold it hurt. Below me, the river was black and fast and loud, churning white around the pillars. My dress was soaked through. My cheek still throbbed.

*Marlows do what they're told.*

I leaned forward. Just a little. Just to see.

The wind pushed at my back like it was trying to help.

One foot slid off the curb.

A hand clamped around my wrist and yanked.

I slammed backward into a hard chest. Before I could scream, someone hauled me across the walkway, wrenched open a car door, and shoved me into the back seat of a black sedan.

The door thudded shut. Warm air. Leather. The smell of cedar and rain.

"Drive," a man said to the front seat. "Somewhere quiet."

The car pulled away from the bridge.

I twisted around, ready to claw at whoever had grabbed me. Then the streetlight swept across his face, and I froze.

Sharp jaw. Dark eyes. The same straight nose as Nolan.

But older. Steadier. Nothing lazy about him at all.

Adrian Kessler. Nolan's older brother. The one who ran the company while Nolan spent its money. I had met him exactly three times, and he had said maybe ten words to me total.

He shrugged off his coat and dropped it over my shaking shoulders. He didn't ask permission.

Then he turned his head and studied me.

"What happened?"

Two words. Low and slow, like he had all night to hear the answer.

My mouth opened. Nothing came out.

"Your face," he said. His eyes dropped to my cheek. His jaw went tight. "Who did that?"

"Does it matter?"

"It matters to me."

I laughed. I didn't mean to. It just bubbled up, wet and ugly, and I couldn't stop it. Adrian didn't flinch. He just waited.

"Your brother," I said finally, "had his tongue down some redhead's throat at the Halston tonight."

Something flickered across his face. It was gone fast.

"And when I told my father, he hit me. Then he told me I'd marry Nolan anyway, or he'd make me homeless."

Adrian's hand flexed on his knee. "So you went to the bridge."

"I went to the bridge."

"Were you going to jump, Elise?"

Nobody had said my name gently in so long. It undid something in my chest.

"I don't know," I whispered.

He exhaled through his nose. "Christ."

The car turned a corner. Light slid over us again, then away. In the dark, he looked so much like Nolan. And nothing like him at all.

Nolan never looked at me like I was worth worrying about.

A thought slipped in, cold and reckless.

Nolan kissed whoever he wanted. Nolan didn't care who saw. Nolan said Marlows do what they're told.

Why the hell was I the only one keeping promises?

"Adrian."

"Yes?"

I moved before I could think twice. I grabbed the front of his shirt, leaned across the seat, and pressed my mouth to his.

He went completely still.

His lips were warm. He tasted like whiskey and rain. For one long heartbeat, he didn't kiss me back and he didn't push me away.

Then his hand came up and closed around the back of my neck.

"Elise," he said against my mouth, his voice rough now. "Do you have any idea what you just started?"

For one second, Adrian's fingers tightened in my hair.

Then he eased me back. It was gentle. His palm stayed flat against my collarbone, keeping a few inches of space between us.

His brows pulled together. "You're marrying my brother this Saturday."

"I know."

"Do you?" His thumb rested on the pulse in my throat. "Because you just kissed me like you forgot."

"I didn't forget anything." My voice shook, but I didn't look away. "I remember all of it. The elevator. The redhead. My father's hand."

"Elise—"

"I know exactly who I'm supposed to marry."

I hooked my arms around his neck and kissed him again.

This time he didn't stop me. He made a low sound in his chest, half warning and half surrender. His hand slid down my spine and pulled me across the seat into his lap.

The driver never turned around.

"Change of plans," Adrian said against my jaw. "The apartment on Clement."

---

His penthouse was dark and quiet. He didn't turn on a single light.

He peeled off my soaked dress slowly, like he was giving me time to change my mind. I didn't. He said my name over and over in the dark, rough and careful. I held on to him like he was the railing on that bridge.

By the time the sky went gray, every line I had ever drawn was gone.

---

Sunlight woke me.

It came through floor-to-ceiling glass and landed right on my face. I squinted, rolled over, and found the other side of the bed empty.

Adrian was sitting on the edge of the mattress with his back half turned to me. He had pulled on sweatpants. His shoulders were bare. There were four thin red marks near his shoulder blade.

I had done that.

Heat crawled up my neck.

He must have heard the sheets move. He didn't turn around right away.

"You're awake."

"Barely." I tugged the comforter up to my chin. "What time is it?"

"Almost eight."

"Oh."

Silence. A long one. I counted the seconds by the ticking of a clock somewhere in the hall.

Then he twisted to face me. His eyes went straight to my cheek, still sore from my father's slap, and stayed there a moment before they found mine.

"Why me?"

My stomach dropped.

"What?"

"Last night." His voice was quiet. Too quiet. "You could have called a friend. Gone to a hotel. Screamed at me in the car. Instead you kissed me. Twice." He leaned his forearms on his knees. "So I'm asking. Why me?"

I knew what the true answer was. Because you pulled me off the bridge. Because you asked who hurt me. Because nobody else had looked at me like I mattered in years.

But saying that out loud felt like jumping again.

So I shrugged. I even smiled.

"Nolan is sleeping with someone else." I made it sound light, like a joke at brunch. "I'm just returning the favor."

His face changed.

It wasn't a big change. His jaw locked. His mouth flattened. The warmth that had been in his eyes all night just switched off, like someone had flipped a breaker.

"Returning the favor," he repeated.

"Adrian, I—"

"So I'm what? Payback?" He stood. He was taller than I remembered, or maybe I was just smaller, curled up in his bed. "A way to hit Nolan where it hurts?"

"That's not—"

"Then what is it?" He didn't raise his voice. That was worse. "When you were touching me last night, Elise, who were you thinking about?"

My mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

"Was it him?" He took one step closer. "Every time you said my name, were you picturing his face? We look enough alike in the dark. Was that the point?"

"No."

"You don't sound sure."

"I'm—" My throat closed up. I swallowed hard. "You're twisting it."

"I'm repeating it." He laughed once, short and cold. It didn't sound like him at all. "You said it. Not me."

I stared at him. He stared back. I waited for him to soften, to say he didn't mean it.

He didn't.

My eyes burned. I would rather have died than cry in front of him right now.

"Fine," I said. "I'll go."

I shoved the comforter off and swung my legs out of bed. Then I remembered I had nothing on. My dress was a wet heap somewhere near the door, ruined.

Adrian turned his head toward the window. Giving me privacy, or just refusing to look at me. I couldn't tell which one hurt more.

A long navy robe hung on the closet door. His. I grabbed it and yanked it on. The sleeves fell past my fingers. The hem brushed my ankles. It smelled like cedar, like the coat he had thrown over my shoulders on the bridge.

I tied the belt so tight it pinched.

"I'll have it cleaned and sent back," I muttered.

"Keep it."

"I don't want anything from you."

"You wanted plenty last night."

I spun around. "Wow."

For half a second, something cracked in his expression. Regret, maybe. He opened his mouth.

I didn't wait to hear it. I scooped up my shoes and my phone from the floor and marched toward the bedroom door. My hand landed on the knob.

"Elise." His voice dropped. "Wait."

"For what? More questions?"

"You can't walk out of this building in my robe at eight in the morning. Half my staff lives on—"

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Three hard raps on the front door of the penthouse.

We both froze.

Adrian's head snapped toward the hallway. I stopped breathing.

Then a voice came through the wood. Lazy. Familiar. The same voice that had told me Marlows do what they're told.

"Hey, Adrian. Open up." Another knock. "It's me. I need to talk to you."

Nolan.

My fingers went numb on the doorknob. The shoes slipped from my other hand and hit the floor with a soft thud.

Adrian's eyes met mine across the room.

"Come on," Nolan called. "I know you're home. Your car's downstairs."

The knob under my palm started to turn.

Not from my side.

He had a key.

The front door clicked open.

I didn't think. I ran.

The closet was huge, the walk-in kind, lined with suits in neat rows of black and gray. I shoved myself between two coats and pulled my knees to my chest. The robe bunched around my ankles.

Adrian was right behind me. He grabbed the closet door and started to slide it shut.

He didn't make it.

Footsteps crossed the living room. Slow. Easy. The walk of a man who had never once been told no.

"Adrian?" Nolan's voice floated down the hall. Then a soft laugh. "Took you long enough. I knocked like four times."

The closet door stopped. A gap of light, maybe six inches wide, cut across my bare feet.

"Why so slow, big brother?" The footsteps came closer. "You got a girl in there?"

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it hurt.

Adrian stood in that gap of light with his back to me. His shoulders were stiff. The red scratches I had left on his skin stood out like a confession.

Then he turned around.

He looked down at me, curled up between his coats, and something moved behind his eyes. I couldn't read it.

He reached in, caught my wrist, and pulled.

"What are you doing?" I mouthed.

He didn't answer. He hauled me to my feet and out of the closet. Two steps, and my back met the wall right beside the bedroom door. The door stood half open. Through the crack, I could see the end of the hallway. A shadow stretched across the floor.

Nolan's shadow.

Adrian braced one hand on the wall by my head. His other hand found my jaw and tipped my face up.

"Don't," I breathed.

He kissed me anyway.

It wasn't gentle like last night. It was slow and hard and quiet, and it stole every thought out of my head. My fingers dug into his forearm. I pressed my nails in so deep I felt his muscle jump under them.

He didn't pull away. If anything, he leaned in closer.

"Adrian." Nolan sounded closer now. Maybe ten feet. "Seriously. What are you doing in there?"

Adrian lifted his mouth from mine. Just an inch. His eyes stayed on me.

"Good morning kiss," he called back.

My stomach turned to ice.

Out in the hall, Nolan laughed. A real laugh, delighted, like his brother had just told him a dirty joke at a bar.

"No way. You? Mister I-don't-have-time-for-dating?" The shadow on the floor shifted. "Who is she? Anyone I know?"

"No one you'd care about."

"Try me."

"Why are you here, Nolan?"

There was a pause. I heard something clink. Keys, maybe, being tossed from hand to hand.

"Dad's freaking out," Nolan said. "Elise didn't go home last night. Her father called the house at two in the morning. Woke everybody up."

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"And?" Adrian's voice was flat.

"And I figured she's sulking somewhere. She saw something yesterday she wasn't supposed to see." Nolan said it like he was talking about a spilled drink. "She'll get over it. She always does."

Adrian's thumb pressed into the hinge of my jaw. Not hard. But it was there.

"What did she see?" he asked.

"Come on. You know what I'm like."

"Say it."

"God, you sound like Dad." Another clink of keys. "She caught me with Tessa at the Halston. Big deal. It's two days before the wedding, not two days after. I'm allowed one last party."

My nails sank deeper into Adrian's arm. He didn't even blink.

"She cried?" Adrian asked.

"Probably. She was holding the seating chart like she wanted to stab me with it." Nolan snorted. "Cute, honestly."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to burst through that door and rip his face off with my bare hands.

I stayed frozen against the wall instead. Adrian's body blocked mine. His heartbeat thudded steady against my chest. Mine was going twice as fast.

"So what do you want from me?" Adrian asked.

"Her phone's off. She's not answering anybody. But she likes you, for some weird reason. She always gets quiet when you're around." Nolan's voice dropped, almost friendly. "If she calls you, tell me. Okay? I need her at that altar on Saturday. Dad needs the Marlow deal closed."

Adrian looked at me for a long moment.

"She won't call me," he said.

"You don't know that."

"I know that."

I shifted my weight. Just a tiny bit. My foot was going numb and I needed to move it.

My elbow bumped the open closet door.

A metal hanger swung loose on the rail. It clanged against the one next to it. Then another. A bright, ringing clatter that bounced off every wall in the room.

I stopped breathing.

Out in the hall, everything went silent.

No keys. No footsteps. No laughing.

One second. Two. Three.

Adrian's hand stayed flat on the wall beside my head. He didn't move. He didn't even turn toward the door.

Then Nolan spoke again. Slowly. Each syllable set down on its own, like he was testing the floor before he stepped on it.

"E... li... se?"

My blood went cold.

Adrian lowered his eyes to mine.

He didn't cover my mouth. He didn't shake his head. He didn't answer for me.

He just waited.

His face was calm. Almost too calm. But his eyes were asking a question, loud and clear.

*Well? Are you going to answer him?*

I understood then. This was his test. Maybe his revenge for what I said this morning. *Returning the favor.* If I was only using him to hurt Nolan, here was my chance. One word, and Nolan would know everything.

And if I stayed silent, what did that make me? A coward, hiding in his brother's bedroom, wearing his brother's robe?

I didn't know which answer Adrian wanted.

I didn't know which one I wanted.

"Elise," Nolan said again. Softer now. Closer. "Is that you?"

I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood. I locked my lungs. I didn't make a sound.

Adrian's eyes searched my face. His jaw flexed once. Then it went still.

On the other side of the half-open door, something brushed the wood.

The shadow on the floor grew longer.

And the doorknob, just inches from my shoulder, began to turn.