The Wrong Brother

Chapter Nineteen—Adrian

The moment I heard the soft chime of the penthouse intercom, I knew who it was. Only Margaret Castellane moved with this combination of purpose and precision. My mother hadn’t visited me since I had left the mansion, but now she did, it wasn’t for something casual. I tightened my grip on the edge of the mahogany desk, Zeus resting at my feet, sensing the tension in the room.

“Mother,” I said as she stepped in, the familiar scent of her perfume—somewhere between lavender and something sharp—announcing her presence before she even spoke.

“Adrian,” she said curtly, her eyes sweeping the room before landing on me. “We need to talk.”

I nodded slightly, maintaining my composed posture. “Of course. I take it this isn’t a social call.”

Her thin lips pressed together. “No. It’s about your… relationship with Nova Ashton.”

My chest tightened. I had expected this. I had prepared for it. Still, the weight of her disapproval was like stepping into a storm.

I glanced toward the balcony. Nova sat there, her profile serene, though I could feel her tension from here. I hated that she had to witness this; I hated that she would bear the scrutiny because of me.

“Mother,” I said carefully, “I’ve already discussed this with you before. You warned me about optics, public perception, and the possibility of backlash. I’m aware.”

“Yes, and I warned you lightly,” she said, voice sharp, each word deliberate. “But seeing it unfold like this… Adrian, do you understand the consequences? Dating your younger brother’s ex-girlfriend, a girl barely out of college, with the way the media thrives on scandal… It's reckless. Dangerous. Not just for you, but for her.”

I felt my jaw tighten.

“Nova is not a child,” I said firmly. “And I am fully aware of the implications. I am not blind to the situation. I am not naive. I am handling it responsibly.”

Margaret raised a brow, unimpressed.

“Responsible?” she echoed. “Adrian, do you know how it looks? How it will look to investors, to the board, to society? One wrong move and your reputation, everything we’ve built, could be questioned.”

I exhaled slowly, my mind racing with protective thoughts. My mother’s authority had always been something I respected—feared, sometimes—but Nova… Nova made me want to defy that authority when it meant defending her.

“She’s worth it,” I said quietly, but with an edge of steel. “She’s intelligent, strong, and capable. And I care about her. Deeply. I’m not interested in a passing fancy, Mother. This is deliberate.”

Her gaze softened for a fraction of a second, then hardened again. “You think your feelings will protect her from the world? Adrian, love doesn’t shield you from gossip, from judgment, from consequences. You’ve seen what’s already happened with the video.”

“Yes, and we’ve dealt with it,” I said, tone clipped. “I dealt with it. And I will continue to deal with anything that threatens her. You don’t get to dictate this, Mother.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, the familiar battle of wills flashing between us. I could feel the intensity in the room, the clash of her authority and my independence, but through it all, my thoughts were on Nova.

She shifted slightly, drawing my gaze. Sitting on the balcony, the soft glow of the late afternoon catching her hair, she looked both fragile and resilient at once. Vulnerable, yes—but also undeniably strong. My protective instincts flared.

Margaret’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Do you even hear yourself, Adrian? You speak of care and protection, but the optics… the perception… you’re risking your credibility for her. For a girl you could…”

“She is not just a girl,” I interrupted, voice low, controlled. “She is Nova. And I choose her. Every single day. You may not understand it, but I am not stepping back. Not for your approval, not for society, and certainly not for anyone who underestimates her.”

Her eyes softened again, but there was tension behind it. “I only want what’s best for you. And for her. Don’t mistake my concern for disapproval out of malice.”

“I understand concern,” I said, fingers tightening slightly on the desk. “But protecting her… that’s my responsibility. Not yours to control. Not yours to warn away. I will ensure she is safe. That is all that matters.”

I watched her carefully, waiting for her to respond. There was a long pause, and for a heartbeat, I thought the confrontation might escalate further. But Margaret, ever calculating, chose her exit carefully.

“Very well,” she said finally, voice measured, deliberate. “But this is your last warning. Do not mistake indulgence for acceptance. The situation is fragile. If anything happens to tarnish either of your reputations… I will hold you accountable.”

I nodded slowly, lips pressed together. “Noted.”

Without another word, she turned and left, heels clicking against the marble floor. The sound echoed like a warning through the penthouse.

I exhaled, finally releasing the tension I had been holding. My gaze went to Nova. She was standing now, having watched the entire exchange silently, her expression a mixture of awe and unease.

I stepped toward her, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“You don’t have to worry about her,” I said quietly. “I’ll always protect you, no matter what she says.”

Her eyes softened, and for a moment, she allowed herself to lean into me, pressing a gentle hand to my chest.

“I know,” she whispered. “It’s just… your mother… she’s intimidating.”

“I know,” I said, voice low, fingers brushing her jaw lightly. “And she can be. But I am not my mother. I will not let anyone… anyone… question you or hurt you because of me.”

I could feel her exhale, relax slightly, and it anchored something in me. Every warning, every glance of disapproval, every whispered judgment from society—I would fight it all if it meant keeping her safe, keeping her close.

Zeus nudged my leg, reminding me that life went on. I looked down at him and then back at Nova.

“Come,” I said softly. “Let’s leave the penthouse for a moment. Get some air. Forget all this for a while.”

She allowed herself a small smile, taking my hand. Sparks ran through me again at the contact, a reminder that amid all the scrutiny, all the pressure, we still had each other.

And I realized something, fully, nothing—not Margaret, not Bruno, not society, would make me step back from this. From her. From us.

Because Nova wasn’t just an ex. She wasn’t just my brother’s past mistake. She was my choice. My reality. My anchor in a storm that refused to end.

And I would defend that, fiercely, relentlessly… until the world had no choice but to accept it.