Marrying My Ex's Dangerous Billionaire Brother

The delicate tick of her watch was a tiny, maddening sound in the cavernous waiting room of the New York City Hall.

10:00 AM. Then 10:01.

Josephine Bowen sat with her spine as straight as a ballerina's at the barre. The toe of her shoe tapped a light, impatient rhythm against the floor as she replayed Austin's promise from last night: "After tomorrow, you'll be the real Mrs. Montgomery." The white Alexander McQueen dress she wore was a statement-elegant, bridal, but not a gown. It was for this. For signing a paper that would make her Mrs. Austin Montgomery.

A clerk shot her a third sympathetic glance. Josie offered a tight, polite smile in return. The muscles in her jaw ached from the effort.

Laughter echoed from a corner where a young couple was kissing, their joy a physical thing that felt like a needle against Josie's skin.

She pulled out her phone. The message she'd sent thirty minutes ago sat below a gray "Read" receipt.

"I'm here: ) Where are you?"

No reply.

Her thumb hovered over Austin's contact, a picture of them in Aspen, his arm wrapped possessively around her. He was the heir to the Montgomery Group. A last-minute meeting could have trapped him. She had to be patient.

At 10:20 AM, her phone finally rang, the screen glowing with "My Everything."

Relief washed over her, so potent it almost made her dizzy. "Austin? I've been waiting for a little while."

"Josie, listen. I can't make it. Something came up." His voice was rushed, impatient, with no trace of apology.

The air in her lungs turned to ice. "What came up? What's more important than this?"

A faint, trembling female voice bled through the call. "Austin... I'm scared..."

Ivey Dennis.

Austin's tone shifted instantly, becoming a soft, soothing murmur. "I'm here, Ivey. Don't be afraid." Then, back to Josie, his voice was hard as steel. "Ivey was in a small accident on the highway. I'm at the hospital. She sprained her ankle and she's shaken up."

"A sprained ankle?" The words came out as a choked whisper. "You're leaving me here, on our wedding day, for a sprained ankle?"

"You're being irrational," he snapped. "Ivey has no one else. She needs me. We'll reschedule. This afternoon."

He hung up.

The dial tone was a flat, dead sound. The sympathetic glances from strangers now felt like daggers. She was a spectacle. A joke.

Josie shot to her feet, a wave of dizziness crashing over her. She stumbled out of the grand doors, into the blinding New York sunlight. The glare was painful, but not as painful as the hot tears of humiliation that streamed down her face.

A black Bentley Mulsanne slid to a silent stop directly in front of her.

The window glided down. The man in the driver's seat was not a chauffeur. He wore a simple black t-shirt that stretched over a lean, muscular frame. Tattoos snaked up one arm, and a single black stud gleamed in his left ear.

Kit Montgomery. Austin's younger brother.

He looked utterly out of place, a predator dropped into a government building.

He took off his sunglasses, revealing eyes the same deep blue as his brother's, but where Austin's held cool confidence, Kit's held a wild, dangerous glint. He took in her tear-streaked face, her perfect dress, her utter ruin.

"He didn't show up," Kit stated, not as a question, but as a fact.

Josie bit her lip so hard she tasted blood, turning her head away. She would not show weakness in front of him.

He killed the engine, got out, and walked toward her. He was taller than Austin, his shadow swallowing her whole. He pulled a pack of tissues from his pocket.

"Wipe your tears," he said, his voice a low, gravelly hum. "The mascara is smudged."

She glared at him, a cornered cat ready to spit fire.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. He pressed the tissues into her hand. "Since the groom ran away, the bride doesn't want to be a laughingstock, does she?"

He tilted his head toward the doors of City Hall. A flicker of something wild, something insane, danced in his eyes.

"The slot is still valid. The name Montgomery is also valid."

Josie's breath hitched. She stared at him, unable to process the words.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Josephine Bowen, do you want to marry me instead?"