Engaged To One Brother But Craved By The Other

7. A Wounded Valencia

Noah didn’t touch her as they headed out, and only when they reached the top of the grand staircase did he extend his hand for her to take. Emily placed her hand over his reluctantly, her mood already beginning to dampen.

At the bottom of the stairs, Madam Catherine addressed the crowd, her voice rich and commanding.

“Today is a very important day for our family,” she began, smiling proudly. “My eldest grandson has found the woman he intends to spend the rest of his life with—a union blessed in love and affection. Please, let’s celebrate them.”

Music began to play as Noah led Emily gracefully down the staircase.

“My grandson, Noah Valencia,” Madam Catherine continued, “will be getting married to the lovely young woman he met and fell for—Emily Duke.”

When they reached the last step, Noah leaned in and placed a polite peck on Emily’s cheek. His whisper brushed her ear. “If anyone asks how we met, tell them it was at a college program I was invited to speak at—and we just sparked.”

Emily rolled her eyes discreetly. They reached Madam Catherine, who greeted them both with warm kisses on the cheeks.

“Noah, go speak to some of our distinguished guests while I introduce Emily to our business partners,” Madam Catherine instructed.

Noah bowed slightly and walked off without another word. Madam Catherine clicked the button on her wheelchair, and it began to move. She reached out and clasped Emily’s hand firmly, guiding her along.

“Madam Catherine,” an elderly man greeted warmly as he stepped forward. “It’s been quite a while. Ever since you let your vice president take over, we barely see you.”

Madam Catherine’s grip on Emily’s hand tightened slightly. “Mr. Robert, you know I was never meant for the business world,” she said with a nostalgic smile. “After my husband passed, my son took over. But after the accident, I had to step in. Now, I’m simply tired and wish to enjoy the rest of my days in peace.

Mr. Robert nodded understandingly. “I understand completely.” His gaze shifted to Emily.

“Well, this must be your granddaughter-in-law—Emily Duke, was it?”

“You should call her Emily Valencia already,” Madam Catherine teased lightly.

Mr. Robert extended a hand, his smile too wide. “It’s nice to meet you, young lady. You’re very beautiful.”

“Thank you, sir,” Emily replied politely, though discomfort prickled her skin as his eyes lingered too long on her chest.

“Robert,” Madam Catherine interjected sharply, “please excuse us. I need to introduce my granddaughter-in-law to a few more people.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of handshakes, introductions, and small talk about business deals and family connections. Emily smiled until her cheeks ached, nodding at strangers who looked through her rather than at her.

Eventually, Madam Catherine became engrossed in conversation with a group of women, leaving Emily alone with a man who had introduced himself as Mr. Greene Chester.

“So,” Greene began, swirling his drink, “what do you like to do for fun? Have you ever partied on a yacht?”

Emily shook her head, glancing around for Noah or Madam Catherine. Neither was in sight.

Greene’s eyes gleamed as he stepped closer, his hand brushing hers. “We’re having a little yacht party tomorrow—just a few people. It would make me very happy to see you there.” His fingers grazed her wrist, his touch slow and deliberate.

Emily tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. His eyes darkened, amusement and danger flickering in them like twin flames.

“Please let me go, sir,” Emily pleaded, careful not to create a scene. The man grew bolder, sliding his hands up her wrist. Panic tightened her chest — then Mr. Greene groaned in pain as his arm was ripped roughly away.

Nicholas stood over them, nails digging so deep into Mr. Greene’s skin it looked like they might tear. Emily’s heart stuttered as she saw him. He wrapped one arm about her shoulder and shoved Mr. Greene back.

“I think my sister-in-law made it loud and clear that you’re being disrespectful by touching her in our house,” he said low. “Do you want to be taught a lesson, Mr. Greene Chester?”

“You—retarded, useless—” Greene cursed, trying to regain his footing.

For a second Emily feared Nicholas would strike him for the insult, but instead Nicholas levelly called a waiter, took a glass of wine, and reached for a bottle on a nearby table.

“You’re right — I have nothing to fear. You all know my story,” Nicholas said coolly, holding the bottle like a loaded threat. “I could smash this bottle and this glass on your head and the headlines would read: ‘Nicholas Valencia bored again.’ But it won’t be the same for you if I pull up the CCTV and show the world how you were touching my sister-in-law.” He finished his wine in one smooth swallow.

Mr. Greene, shaking now, stumbled away and fled. A soft, incredulous giggle escaped Emily as she turned to face Nicholas. “I have never been so happy to see you,” she admitted.

Nicholas scoffed. “Is that supposed to be a compliment, sister-in-law? Anyway — you look good in that dress.” He turned and walked off toward the stairs.

Emily watched him climb, warmth spreading across her chest. She took a glass of wine from a passing waitress and sipped, still stunned by what had happened.

No one returned to bother her until Madam Catherine rolled up beside her. “I’m so sorry, my dear — I left you alone,” she said in a small flurry. “Where is Noah? Why is there blood on your shoulder? Are you hurt? Hurry and clean up if it’s a scratch.”

Blood?

Emily’s mind flashed to Nicholas’s hand — to the way his arm draped around her. She turned and ran up the stairs, heart thudding. Was he injured?

At the top floor she paused. She didn’t even know which room was his. Four doors lined the corridor. Then she spotted it: a smear of blood on the handle of the second door.

She did not even hesitate before flinging open the door and dashing inside. More droplets of blood were on the floor, leading to another door.

“Nicholas…” she yelled, rushing to the door and pushing it open. She found him with his eyes partly open, leaning against the wall in pain. His clothes were off, and blood kept pouring from a deep cut on his shoulder.

“Nicholas, are you mad? You’re wounded and hiding in here?” She knelt beside him, grabbed his shirt, and pressed it against his chest.

“You should leave, sister-in-law. I don’t want Noah making things difficult for you,” he said, trying to push her away.

Emily shook her head, seeing the depth of the wound — it looked like he’d been stabbed twice in the same spot.

She looked around but quickly realized he needed to be attended to by a real doctor. “Let me get your grandmother—”

Nicholas grabbed her wrist. “No. You’d only make things worse. No one must know anything about this.”

“You’re dying,” she snapped.

“Not even Noah,” he breathed before closing his eyes, breathing heavily through his mouth.

“There are blood stains everywhere, and I don’t know how long before you pass out,” she said, then sighed. “If you’re scared of the media, then don’t worry. I know a doctor who won’t reveal your identity to the public or your grandma.”

Nicholas looked at her skeptically.

She nodded. “Trust me.”

She helped him up and took him out of the room.

“Let’s use the back door. No one should be there — a friend’s car is parked outside. Can you drive?” Nicholas asked.

Emily nodded. As they reached the hallway leading to the back door, she noticed Noah approaching.

“s**t—Noah,” she gasped, pushing open a door and shoving Nicholas inside. When she stepped in too, she found herself pressed tightly against him — no space, just a small wooden counter, shelves stacked with old books. Emily’s back hit the wall, Nicholas’s chest pressed against hers, their breaths tangled.

“What kind of room is this?” she whispered, barely moving.

Nicholas gave a weak chuckle. “A book storage. Noah and I used to hide our favorite novels here.”

Noah’s footsteps drummed toward them. Emily’s body was pressed fully against Nicholas.

“Can you stop moving around?” Emily whispered in frustration.

“Sister-in-law… you smell nice.” Nicholas’s head landed weakly on her shoulder, his breath fanning her neck, his hair soft against her skin.

Emily held her breath until Noah’s footsteps passed. Then she slowly touched her chest.

“Why is it beating wildly?”