Married To My Dead Husband Brother

Four

The silence that followed Lucian’s offer was so complete I could hear the grandfather clock ticking in the hallway. Ten million dollars. Just like that. The same price my parents had sold me for two years ago. My life, apparently, had a very specific number attached to it.

Margaret stared at him, lips pressed into a thin line. For once, she looked like she didn’t know what to say. Sophia’s scowl deepened, and Lila had gone completely still, her crush momentarily forgotten in the face of whatever game Lucian was playing.

“You can’t be serious,” Margaret finally spat. “You walk in here after years of pretending we don’t exist, and now you want to buy the widow of your dead brother? For what? Some twisted sense of revenge?”

Lucian didn’t blink. He pulled out his phone, tapped a few times, and slid it across the table toward her. “It’s already done. Check your account. Ten million wired. Clean. No traces. She’s no longer your concern.”

Margaret snatched the phone, her eyes scanning the screen. Whatever she saw made her face go pale, then flush with barely contained rage. She looked up at Lucian like she wanted to slap him the way she’d slapped me earlier, but even she wasn’t stupid enough to try it with his men standing guard around the room.

“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Take the little w***e. She’s brought nothing but trouble anyway.”

I sat there numb, watching my life get transferred like property once again. No one asked me what I wanted. No one ever did.

Lucian stood up smoothly, buttoning his jacket. His presence still dominated the room, but now it felt different. Not just dangerous, protective, in a way that terrified me more than the violence I knew. He glanced down at me, and for the first time that night, the corner of his mouth twitched into something resembling a smirk.

“Anything you want to take along?” he asked, voice low but carrying through the quiet dining room. “Clothes, jewelry, whatever’s yours. We’re leaving now.”

I shook my head slowly. My voice was barely a whisper. “Nothing here is really mine.”

He studied me for a second longer, then gave a small nod. “Smart girl.”

Without another word to his mother or sister, he turned and started walking toward the door. I scrambled to my feet, legs shaky, and followed him. The bodyguards fell into formation around us like a dark wave. As we passed Margaret, she grabbed my wrist one last time, nails digging in.

“Remember your place,” she hissed under her breath. “You’ll always be bought and paid for.”

Lucian’s hand landed on my shoulder, gently but firmly pulling me away from her. He didn’t say anything, but the look he gave Margaret made her let go instantly. We stepped out into the cool night air. A sleek black SUV waited at the bottom of the steps, engine purring softly. More guards. More guns. This wasn’t the Blackwood world I knew. This was something bigger. Darker.

I climbed into the back seat. Lucian slid in beside me. The door shut with a heavy thud, and we pulled away from the mansion that had been my prison for two years. I didn’t look back.

The drive was quiet at first. Streetlights flickered across Lucian’s face as he stared out the window, jaw tight. Thirty minutes felt like both forever and no time at all. I kept stealing glances at him, trying to make sense of the man who had just bought me. The devil they all feared. My dead husband’s brother. The one person who might be worse than Adrian.

His mansion, because calling it a house would be an insult came into view after we passed through heavy iron gates reinforced like a fortress. It was massive, sprawled across what looked like several acres, all modern lines and dark stone with warm lights glowing from within. Guards patrolled the perimeter, visible under floodlights. Some with dogs. Others with rifles slung over their shoulders. Maids in crisp uniforms moved through the grounds, carrying linens or trays, heads down respectfully as our car approached.

This place didn’t feel like a home. It felt like a stronghold.

The SUV stopped under a covered entrance. Lucian got out first and offered me his hand. I hesitated only a second before taking it. His palm was warm, calloused, nothing like Reginald’s clammy grip. He led me inside without a word.

The interior was breathtaking in a cold, intimidating way. High ceilings, marble floors that echoed our footsteps, modern art on the walls that probably cost more than my parents’ entire life savings. Maids bowed slightly as we passed. A few men in suits nodded to Lucian with clear deference.

We climbed a wide staircase, turned down a long hallway lined with heavy wooden doors. Lucian stopped in front of one near the end, opened it, and gestured for me to enter first.

The room was beautiful. Bigger than any bedroom I’d ever had. A king sized bed with dark silk sheets, a sitting area by tall windows overlooking the gardens, a walk in closet that was already half stocked with clothes in my size, how he knew that, I had no idea and an attached bathroom that looked like it belonged in a five star hotel. Soft lighting. Fresh flowers on the nightstand. It should have felt welcoming. Instead, it felt like another cage. Just a prettier one.

I stood in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around myself, still in the same black dress from the dinner. Lucian leaned against the doorframe, watching me with those intense gray eyes. The smirk from earlier was gone. Now he just looked… calculating. Like he was deciding what to do with his new purchase.

“You’ll be safe here,” he said after a long moment. His voice was quieter than I expected. “No one touches you without my permission. Not my mother. Not Voss. Not anyone.”

I swallowed hard, nodding. Safe. I wasn’t sure I believed in that word anymore. “Why?” I whispered. “Why did you do this? Why buy me?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, close enough that I could smell that faint mix of rain and gun oil again. His height made me feel small, but he didn’t crowd me the way Adrian used to.

Lucian reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. The touch was surprisingly gentle, sending an unwanted shiver down my spine.

Then he leaned in slightly, lips brushing close to my ear as he spoke the words that made my blood run cold.

“We’re getting married in a week.”