Married to My Ex's Billionaire Brother

I walked into my fiancé's hotel suite and found him fucking a model named Sienna.

My engagement ring was still on my finger. His hands were still on her hips.

Kieran didn't apologize. The first thing he said was, "Why didn't you call first?"

I texted my mother right in front of him and told her to call off the wedding.

That night, I drank until I stopped caring and slept with a stranger.

The next morning, I learned the stranger was Rhys Vale, Kieran's older brother, just back in the country.

---

I had three venue brochures in my bag. The Lakeview Pavilion. The Grand Ivory Ballroom. A vineyard in Napa that Kieran's mother loved.

I'd planned to spread them across his coffee table and make him choose.

The keycard he gave me months ago still worked. The door to the penthouse swung open without a sound.

Then I heard her.

"Harder, Kieran. God, right there."

The bedroom door stood half open. Sienna knelt on the white sheets, palms flat, back arched. Kieran was behind her, gripping her waist, slamming into her so hard the headboard knocked against the wall.

My bag slid off my shoulder. The brochures spilled across the marble floor.

Kieran turned his head. For one second his face went blank. Then it soured, like I'd stepped on his shoe.

"Jesus, Ivy." He pulled out and grabbed a towel. "Why didn't you call first?"

Sienna didn't even cover herself. She rolled onto her side and smiled at me.

"You must be the fiancée," she said.

I stared at Kieran. "Call first? Into your hotel room? The one I have a key to?"

"This is my private time." He knotted the towel at his hip. "You can't just barge in whenever you want."

"Private time." A laugh came out of me, thin and wrong. "We're getting married in four months."

"And whose fault is this?" He stepped closer, voice rising. "You're always busy. Seating charts. Flowers. Brunch with my mother. Dinner with your father. You've got time for everyone except me."

"Don't."

"Every time I touch you, it's 'after the wedding, Kieran.' What did you expect me to do? Wait like a monk?"

My face burned. Sienna giggled into the pillow.

I looked down at my left hand. The diamond caught the light from the window, the same way it had the night he proposed in front of both our families.

I twisted it off. My knuckle scraped raw.

I set the ring on the glass table. It made a tiny click.

"Ivy, come on." His tone shifted, softer now, almost bored. "Don't be dramatic. We'll talk when you calm down."

I pulled out my phone. I typed while he watched.

*Mom. I'm not marrying Kieran. Cancel the engagement.*

I hit send and held up the screen so he could read it.

His jaw ticked. "You won't go through with that."

"Watch me."

My phone buzzed before I reached the elevator.

*Ivy, the Hart family is in the middle of a major deal with the Vales. Breaking the engagement now will hurt both companies. Come home and we'll discuss this rationally.*

Not *are you okay.* Not *what happened.*

I deleted the message and pressed the button for the lobby.

---

The bar on Fifth was dark and quiet. I ordered a whiskey. Then another.

By the fourth, my hands had stopped shaking.

A man sat at the far end of the counter. Dark suit, no tie, collar open. Older than me, maybe early thirties. He hadn't touched his drink in twenty minutes. He hadn't looked at his phone either.

He just sat there, like he was waiting for something to be worth his attention.

I slid my glass down the counter and followed it.

"You look like you're having a bad night too," I said.

His gaze moved to me. Gray eyes, steady and cool. "What makes you think my night is bad?"

"You're drinking alone in a bar with no music."

"So are you."

"I caught my fiancé with another woman three hours ago." I tipped the glass toward him. "Beat that."

He was quiet for a moment. Then the corner of his mouth moved. Not quite a smile.

"I won't try."

"Good." I leaned on the bar. "What's your name?"

"Does it matter?"

I thought about Kieran's voice. *Every time I touch you, it's after the wedding.*

"No," I said. "It doesn't."

I set my hand on his thigh. His muscle tightened under my palm.

"I have a room upstairs," I said. "I don't want to think tonight. I want someone to fuck me until I stop remembering his face."

He studied me for a long beat. "How much have you had?"

"Enough to be brave. Not enough to be stupid."

"Say it again. Sober-sounding."

I met his eyes. "I want you. Tonight. Yes."

He stood and dropped cash on the bar.

---

The elevator doors had barely closed before his mouth was on mine.

He kissed like he had all the time in the world and none of the patience. His hand spread across my lower back and pulled me flush against him. I felt his cock, hard, pressing into my stomach.

"Fuck," I whispered against his lips.

"That's the idea."

In the room, he unzipped my dress and let it drop. He stared at me in my bra and panties like he was memorizing me.

"Turn around," he said.

I did. He unhooked my bra and cupped my breasts from behind, thumbs rolling over my nipples until they ached.

"Say my— no." He laughed low against my neck. "You don't know it."

"Then tell me what you want."

"I want to taste you first."

He pushed me back onto the bed, dragged my panties down my legs, and spread my thighs wide. His tongue went straight to my clit, slow circles, then fast, and my hips jerked off the mattress.

"Oh, fuck. Don't stop."

He slid two fingers inside my pussy and curled them. I grabbed his hair.

"You're soaking wet," he said. "Did he ever make you this wet?"

"Never. Fuck, never."

I came on his tongue, shaking, my heel digging into his shoulder.

He stripped. His cock was thick and flushed, and I reached for it without thinking, stroking him until he swore.

He rolled on a condom and pushed into me in one long stroke.

"Christ, you feel good," he groaned.

"Harder. Fuck me harder."

He did. He pinned my wrists above my head and drove into me deep, steady, merciless. The bed creaked. My nails raked down his back.

"Look at me," he said. "Not at the ceiling. At me."

I looked. Those gray eyes held mine while he fucked me through a second orgasm, and then he buried his face in my neck and came with a rough sound that went straight through my chest.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

Then I started laughing. I couldn't stop. Tears ran into my hair, and I was still laughing.

He didn't ask why. He just pulled the blanket over both of us.

---

Somewhere near dawn, half asleep, I heard his phone vibrate.

He sat up. His voice was low, careful.

"Yes. I landed yesterday."

A pause.

The man on the other end spoke loudly enough that one phrase reached me through the fog.

"...Mr. Vale, your father wants you at the house by noon."

*Vale.*

The word drifted past me like smoke. I tried to grab it.

But my eyes were already closing.