Married To My Ex's Brother

His Terms

CHAPTER FIVE

Annie's POV

Sunlight spilled across the lounge, glinting off the polished marble floor like tiny stars. Guests murmured softly around me—quiet laughter, clinking glasses, the soft scrape of cutlery—but everything felt far away, muffled, like I was underwater.

The faint scent of fresh citrus lingered in the air, mixed with polished wood and warm daylight. It should have been calming, but my stomach churned with nerves. My palms were cold, pressed flat against my thighs as I waited.

Then he arrived.

Grey walked in with the steady confidence of someone who never had to wonder if he belonged. His presence shifted the room. He sat across from me like he owned not just the chair, but the air between us. The calm, controlled aura around him made it feel like he had already rehearsed everything he was about to say—down to the exact moment he would inhale.

“We need rules,” he said. His voice was steady, expression unreadable. “If this is going to work, it has to be flawless.”

Rules. Of course there had to be rules. My pulse thudded in my ears from the sheer weight in his tone.

“R–Rules?” I whispered, hating that my voice trembled.

He nodded once—clean, precise—then began explaining the things he wanted in our fake relationship. As he talked, I tried to focus, but I couldn’t stop noticing how sharply his gaze lifted every few seconds, pinning me in place like he was studying the thoughts I wasn’t saying.

“We’re pretending to be couples, but to everyone else, it must feel real and convincing enough that no one questions it for a second.”

Real. The word hit harder than I expected.

I swallowed. “What does… real mean exactly?”

Grey didn’t hesitate. “Enough physical familiarity. Comfort. Natural chemistry.”

Natural chemistry? The words rolled in my mind like a loose marble. My cheeks warmed before I even asked—

“Like holding hands? Kisses in public? How far does this go?” My voice came out small, and I tried to hide my reddened cheeks by looking away.

He almost smiled. His eyes softened with amusement as he leaned forward slightly.

“Enough to convince,” he said. “Touches that look natural, not forced. Kisses that seem spontaneous. The kind of intimacy that looks effortless.”

Why did he sound like he had done this before? Like pretending came naturally to him?

My throat dried instantly. “And between us… nothing more?”

“Exactly.” His tone was final. “Next rule: no prying into each other’s lives. This is business, nothing more.”

Business. The word stung more than I thought it would. Fake intimacy, real boundaries. It felt backwards.

“Business sounds cold for something meant to look real,” I muttered without thinking.

He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. His gaze locked onto mine—steady, unblinking.

“That’s what keeps us going,” he said softly, but firmly.

A knot tightened in my chest. But I nodded anyway because backing out wasn’t an option. Not anymore.

Footsteps approached—fast, loud, agitated. Like someone rushing toward trouble.

Matteo.

He spotted Grey instantly, and his whole face changed. Eyebrows raised. Lips curled. Pure judgment. I didn’t even need him to speak; I already knew he hated that I was here with Grey.

He dropped into the seat beside me, completely ignoring Grey like he was empty space. I felt the tension radiating from him—hot, sharp, protective.

“Baby girl, are you okay? How’s it going with this—” he paused just long enough to throw Grey the most dramatic side-eye I had ever seen.

I cleared my throat. “Y–yes, I’m okay.”

Grey watched Matteo calmly, like he was assessing him the same way he had assessed me.

“Perfect timing, Matteo,” Grey said. “I guess you know it all. Let it stay between the three of us.”

Matteo’s jaw tightened. “Do I look like one of your dogs you can order around? Because I do not care about you, neither your fvcking aim of doing this.” He patted my cheek gently—protectively. “I'm only doing this because of my—” he glanced at me. “If you think of hurting her like your brother did, I do not mind rotting in jail because of her.”

The space between them grew sharp and hostile. For a moment, I felt like I needed to physically stand between them. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I prayed he wouldn’t destroy the only plan I had left.

Matteo stood. “Take care, baby girl. I'm out of here.” He threw Grey another side-eye that could cut steel before walking away.

“I’m sorry for his attitude,” I began quickly. “He only did that because—”

“You’d be going home with me to see my parents,” Grey interrupted.

I blinked. Hard.

For a second, I thought the words didn’t process correctly.

Meet… his parents? Already?

My heartbeat stopped, then restarted too fast.

What kind of family needed evidence of this quickly?

Were they suspicious of Grey? Did they think he couldn’t get a girlfriend?

This was earlier than I expected. But maybe… It was perfect. Time for Diaman and his so-called wife to pay for what they did. A little mischievous smile appeared on my face.

I cleared my throat, trying to buy time, but my voice betrayed me with a tiny tremble.

Grey didn't look nervous at all—only determined, like the decision had already been made for both of us.

If this was part of the plan…then I needed to play my role perfectly—for the sake of my revenge.

Still, my throat tightened at the thought.

“Isn’t it so s–sudden?” I asked.

“It’s not. They’re all waiting for me.”

All waiting. Like a staged interview.

“I–I see. Alright. Thank you so much.”

*****

In my room, I stood with my phone in my hand, staring at the message I was typing to my HR.

“I’d have to cut my vacation short due to a personal matter, and I’ll make sure to catch up on any missed work as soon as possible.”

I typed. Deleted. Typed again.

Everything suddenly felt heavy—the quiet room, the soft hum of the AC, the open suitcase on my bed. The clothes I packed were for relaxation, not meeting a man’s parents under false pretenses. The air, once warm and comfortable, now felt tight and suffocating.

Then Diaman’s name flashed on my screen.

The disgust hit instantly.

His message was short and careless:

“Come get your things. Katy is uncomfortable seeing them.”

My grip tightened on the phone until my knuckles whitened. Five years together, and this was all I was worth? A text dismissing me like an unwanted delivery?

Katy feels uncomfortable?

She should feel uncomfortable. She stole a life I helped him build.

My chest ached—with rage, with humiliation, with the raw sting of betrayal. He had no idea what was coming.

My hands clenched around the phone so tight, I thought it would crack.

The anger that rose in me was volcanic. He has no idea what's coming. Not yet.

They still have the guts to act like they didn’t do me a s**t. “You can discard them, I don't give a f**k! I texted back.”

I imagined punching him square in the face. Hard.

Just once.

You know what, Diaman? Just wait for the little surprise coming you

r way. You used me. Made me a fool for five good years. You can’t just hurt me and act like you did nothing. I’ll make you both pay.