The wrong brother’s bride

Dinner

Declan pov

I was already at the restaurant twenty minutes early. This was the first time I had ever arrived early for anything. I sat in my car, gripping the steering wheel so tight that my hands began to hurt.

Damn, this is so not me. I’ve closed deals worth billions of dollars; I’ve fired people who worked for my family for more than thirty-five years and slept peacefully without a second thought. But here I am, nervous about meeting my ex-wife. I looked at my watch once more; it was past seven. If she was on time, she would be here in the next seven minutes.

I got out of my car, fixed my jacket, and walked into the restaurant like I owned the place. I actually do own a large share of it, but that’s not the point right now. The man at the front desk moved toward me immediately as he sighted me.

“Mr. Voss. Your table is ready.”

“Thanks,” I replied.

I followed him to a private corner. The table was close enough to others so it didn't look off, but far enough away that the next table wouldn't be able to hear our conversation. I sat down, ordered water, and waited. Then my phone buzzed. I was expecting Darcy, but it was my fiancée, Victoria.

“I’ll be having dinner with Dad.” I turned the screen face-down on the table as I read the message. I felt a sense of relief—at least that was one less thing to worry about tonight. The thought of Darcy crossed my mind once more. Every morning when I wake up, she is the first thing on my mind, and every night before I sleep, she is the last. I’ve paid investigators to find her, but they couldn't. I could not forget about Darcy during the three years she was gone, no matter how hard I tried.

She had disappeared without a trace, as if she never existed. It haunts me knowing that I had her for a full 365 days, and yet the best I could do was destroy her. How could I have been this brainwashed by my father? At my age, I should have been able to think for myself; it’s foolish of me to only realize this now.

Since I was seven, my dad has been painting these words in my head: “Love only makes you weak, my son, and I can’t be proud of a weak child.” I should have known he was just hurting because he loved my mother so much, and she left him to the cold hands of death by taking an overdose of pills. The news told to the public was that she had an accident, so it wouldn't tarnish the family name.

I was traumatized by the sight of seeing my mother die in my arms when I was only seven. It will always remain fresh in my memory; it was the most tragic moment of my life. But since that day, Dad never taught me what love truly is. His life was peaceful with my mother before the chaos, but instead of sharing that, he made sure to teach me against love. He made me hard so that love wouldn't matter, and told me never to give anyone power over me.

I guess we don’t have control over our feelings, though. When Darcy walked into my office with a mop and bucket in her hand, I felt something I’d never felt before. I was so attracted to her that I couldn't stop thinking about her. When I told Dad, he told me to marry her—make it a contract, control her—and said that was the only way to overcome the "disease" called love.

But it was not as easy as I thought. I spent those 365 days fighting the urge to walk into her room. Every time I saw her in the kitchen, in the library reading, making coffee, or touching flowers in the garden, I couldn't help but want her more. But I was taught to be meaner if I ever felt that way. If she hated me, she would not be able to break me the way Mother broke Father. When I gave her those divorce papers, Dad made me prove my worth as the CEO by disgracing her in front of the public.

But was it really worth it? I spent three years in pain, realizing I had thrown away the only real thing I ever had. And now she is back—more beautiful and completely untouchable. I’d do anything to...

Someone walked through the door. Darcy.

My heart stopped. She stood at the entrance in a beautiful black dress and fancy high heels. She wore only diamond earrings and looked incredibly attractive without even trying. She was simple; she wasn't trying to impress me. Every eye was on her as she walked toward me with confident steps. She reached the table and sat down without waiting for me to pull out the chair for her. There was no smile on her face.

“You’re late,” I said to her.

She acted like she didn’t hear me as she placed her purse carefully on the table. “No. You’re early,” she responded.

Before I could say anything, the waiter arrived, so I had to switch gears. “Wine?” I asked her.

She didn’t respond to me, looking at the waiter instead.

“We will have the Chateau Lafite first,” I told the waiter.

Before the waiter could move, she narrowed her eyes and said, “Actually, I’ll have Penfolds, and he will have water.”

The waiter was confused, shifting his gaze from her to me and back again.

“He had a stressful, hard week. I don’t think he should be drinking,” she added, giving a dismissive smile to the waiter.

She had just embarrassed me, and I couldn't even be angry. I was about to smile, but I didn't have a reason to, so I suppressed it.

“She’s right. Water for me, Penfolds for her,” I said. The waiter left immediately.

Darcy faced me. “Should we talk about the contract?”

I pushed the folder across the table. She opened it and glanced at it for a few seconds before pulling out her own copy, which had red marks all over it.

“My lawyer made a few changes,” she said.

“Let me hear them,” I responded.

“We meet every week, but not in the same location.”

“Okay.”

“Every decision needs both of our signatures.”

“Okay.”

“If any new product is going to be launched within the six months, it will be under a different brand name.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Why would we do such a thing?” I asked curiously.

She looked at me and said, “I don’t want my name connected with yours. We aren’t friends.”

“Anything else?” I asked in a more serious tone.

“There will be a fifty-million-dollar penalty for whoever quits before the contract ends,” she said.

I agreed easily. I wasn't ready to quit, so it didn't bother me. I just wanted to be close to her. The wine came, and I watched her as she took a sip. I was lost in my imagination; she looked so sexy, and every move she made turned me on without her even trying. I kept reminiscing about the night of our wedding.

“Something wrong?” she asked, catching me staring.

“No,” I replied.

“Then why are you staring?”

“Just curious,” I said.

She didn’t move the conversation any further. Instead, she pointed at the contract. “Look at this part.”

I leaned forward to see, and she did the same. Now I was so close to her that I could perceive her natural scent. It was addicting; I could smell it even past her perfume. She kept talking, but I wasn't listening. I was lost in her, memorizing her breath and admiring her skin.

She had to bring me out of my thoughts. “Declan!”

I looked into her eyes. We were both silent. Before I could stop the words from coming out of my mouth, they were already there: “Why did you come back?”

She leaned back a little. “For business, Mr. Voss.”

“That’s not true.”

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t come back for business.”

She narrowed her eyes. To trigger her a little, I said, “Don’t look at me like you want me.”

She stood up immediately, her face calm, but I could tell how angry she was. I couldn't let her leave, so I dragged her to a corner where most people couldn't see us. There was one person at a particular table who saw, but the way I looked at him made him turn away immediately; it was certain he wouldn't look back again.

I faced her as her back leaned against the wall. She wasn't struggling.

“People are watching, Declan,” she said.

I ignored her concern. I brought my nose closer to her neck, feeling the texture of her skin with the tip of my nose up to her ear. She inhaled and let a small moan escape her lips. She was trying to say something, but she was as aroused as I was. I felt her breathing change while my heart beat fast.

“Declan,” she said quietly. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” I asked in her ear, my voice more like a groan. I didn't care that we were in a public space.

Immediately, she pushed me off. “Stop it,” she said and moved back to her seat.

I followed her slowly. She was already seated, but she couldn't look me in the eyes anymore. She was fixed on the contract on the table.

“Sign this,” she pointed, acting as if she were in a hurry.

I picked up the pen and signed without talking. Just then, the door of the restaurant opened in a way that caught our attention.

It was Victoria.