Brother-In-Law's Replaced Bride

Respect

Theodore Myers POV

“That bad?” I couldn’t stop the smirk tugging at my mouth, though the mask hid it well.

This woman—my wife—had a fire I didn’t expect. Feisty. Reckless. Unpredictable. I never imagined marriage would come wrapped in this kind of chaos, yet here she was, testing me at every turn.

She said she didn’t think I was that bad. Like she’d never met me at all. Like she had no idea how bad I could be.

“Yeah, you're suffering like me. I thought we were similar,” she justified, stumbling over her words.

Should I be grateful for that? The thought almost amused me. “I’m Theodore Myers. No one makes me suffer. Not even if I’m crippled. Not even if the world tries.”

No one gets to pity me.

“Totally got it now—you’re an arsehole.” Her words only fed the anger already simmering in me.

I was trying to keep control, but she’d been testing me since the moment we met. And I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

How could anyone dare to mess with Theodore Myers? Especially her—the one forced on me. The replacement bride of all people.

Still, she’s better than that w***e of a sister of hers, my conscience mocked.

True, I didn’t attend the wedding. I had no interest in associating with that b***h. But after finding out who I actually married, it seems this one’s different.

Albert did inform me a lot about this woman. She’s an eyesore to her own family, and honestly, I can see why. That mouth of hers knows no restraint.

“I want to know how you’re gonna take this whole marriage thing from now on.” Her voice dragged me out of my thoughts.

I looked at her. “Huh?”

“Didn’t hear me?” she grumbled. “I think we’d better talk this out instead of acting like strangers. And if you can, at least show me your face.”

Is she being serious? Where the hell is she getting this courage from?

“Woman, I show no one anything. My face isn’t something people like you get to see.”

“People like me?” Her tone sharpened, offended, as if I’d just crossed some invisible line.

“Yeah—ugly and poor.”

Her eyes widened, like she’d just seen a ghost.

For a second, silence filled the space between us. She didn’t move, didn’t blink. Just sat there, staring at me like she couldn’t believe what she’d heard.

I almost laughed. “What? Did I lie?”

Her lips parted, trembling with words she couldn’t seem to form. Then she turned away, shoulders stiff, trying to hide the way that single insult hit her.

Good. Maybe now she’ll stop testing me.

But the way her breath hitched—it did something I didn’t expect. Annoyed me. Scratched at a part of me I thought was long dead.

I leaned back in my seat, watching her quietly. “If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

“I don’t.” She slurred the words, slow and careless. “You really f****d up—and with that mask, you’re so handsome.” The sarcasm dripped from every syllable.

I arched a brow beneath the mask. “Careful, wife. You sound jealous.”

She snorted, a bitter sound that didn’t quite mask the frustration in her eyes. “Jealous? Of what? The mask or the man hiding behind it?”

Her words landed sharper than she probably intended. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, but I didn’t let it. Instead, I leaned forward. “You talk too much for someone who doesn’t know who she’s dealing with.”

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing, like she was trying to see through me. “Then show me.”

For a moment, I almost did. Almost. But then that old instinct kicked in—control. Distance. Survival.

“Don’t ask for what you can’t handle,” I said quietly. “You won’t like what you find.”

Her throat bobbed. “Ugly, you called me—but the insecurity’s dripping from you. I don’t even know how this marriage is supposed to work. I never wanted to deal with you in the first place. You could’ve just let me stay away instead of dragging me into this damn car.”

Something in me snapped.

My gloved hand shot up, gripping her cheek hard enough to make her lips part. “You’re really testing me too much, Mrs. Myers.”

“f**k you and your Myers surname.”

The defiance in her words hit like a spark against gasoline. I stared at her, jaw clenched, her breath brushing my glove as she glared right back—no fear, just fury.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The air inside the car grew thick, heavy with everything unspoken—anger, challenge, something else I didn’t care to name.

I tightened my grip, not out of cruelty but control. “You talk like that again,” I murmured, “and I’ll show you exactly what being a Myers means.”

Her pulse throbbed against my fingers. Yet even then, she didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away.

Stubborn woman.

I released her slowly, my gaze lingering on the red mark blooming across her cheek. “You should learn when to stop.”

She wiped the corner of her mouth, defiant as ever. “You first.”

“I’m not the man you can cross, Irene.” Her name rolled off my tongue, and I saw the way she shivered when it did. “This is your first and last warning. I’m your husband, and you’re going to show some respect.”

“Respect—”

I pressed a gloved finger to her lips, cutting her off before the word could fully leave her mouth.

“Don’t drive me to the point where you’ll regret it.”

Her breath hit the leather, uneven. The faintest tremor passed through her.

I didn’t touch people. Not this easily. Not even with a mask between me and the world. But with this woman… it wasn’t that bad. Dangerous, yes—but not bad.

And somehow, I knew she was going to be worse for my health than any bullet I’d ever taken.

She blinked slowly, her eyes dark with something I couldn’t read—fear, anger, defiance, maybe all three. Then she whispered against my finger.

“Like I’m scared.”