Page 29 of Claimed By The Other Brother

"It was truly a pleasure meeting you."

The words are simple, appropriate. It's the way he says them—with quiet intensity, like he's saying something else entirely—that makes my breath catch.

"You too, Dax."

I walk out before I can say anything else.

The hired car is waiting at the curb. I slide into the backseat and give the driver my address. As we pull away from the restaurant, I glance back through the rear window. Dax is standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, watching the car drive away. Our eyes meet through the glass for one brief moment before the car turns the corner and he disappears from view.

My apartment is dark and quiet when I arrive. I kick off my heels inside the door and flip on the lights, the silence pressing in around me. I go through the motions of getting ready for bed. Remove my makeup. Unpin my hair and let it fall loose around my shoulders. Change into pajamas. Brush my teeth.

The wedding dress hangs on my closet door, waiting.

I climb into bed and turn offthe light. The darkness is thick, suffocating. I stare at the ceiling, trying to calm my racing thoughts. Tomorrow I marry Miles. Sweet, distracted Miles who can't stay off his phone. Miles who gets cold feet and makes jokes about commitment. Miles who I love, who I've built a life with over the past three years.

I roll onto my side, punching my pillow into shape as the rehearsal dinner replays in my mind. The conversations, the toasts, the way the evening unfolded. Dax's presence had filled the room in a way I hadn't expected. That commanding aura, the intensity of his focus when he spoke.

I push the thoughts away as I close my eyes and focus on my breathing, willing sleep to come.

It takes a long time before it finally does.

Chapter Four

Scarlett

The Waldorf Astoria lobby is buzzing with activity when I arrive at ten AM. Guests are checking in, bellhops are moving luggage, and somewhere upstairs, my wedding is being set up.

I opted to spend last night at my apartment rather than stay at the hotel. I needed one more night in my own space, surrounded by familiar things, before everything changed. Now, wheeling my overnight bag behind me, I head straight for the elevator that will take me to the top floor where my bridal suite is waiting.

The suite is enormous. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the city, sunlight streaming in and illuminating the sitting area where Jane and Sarah have already set up camp. There's coffee, pastries, fruit, and champagne chilling in an ice bucket.

"There she is!" Sarah jumps up from the couch.

"The bride!"

Jane rushes over and hugs me.

"How are you feeling? Did you sleep?"

"Barely." I set my bag down and accept the cup of coffee Sarah presses into my hand.

"But I'm here. Ready to do this."

"You're going to be the most beautiful bride." Jane squeezes my shoulder.

"Come on, sit. Eat something. Hair and makeup will be here in twenty minutes."

I sink into the plush couch and take a croissant from the spread. My stomach is in knots, but I force myself to eat. Today is my wedding day. I need energy.

"Your suite is incredible," Sarah says, gesturing around the space.

"This whole floor is gorgeous."

"Jane and I are on the eighth floor," Sarah adds.

"Which is nice, but nothing like this. Top floor treatment for the bride."

I glance around. The suite has a separate bedroom with a king bed, a full bathroom with a soaking tub, and this expansive living area. Everything is pristine, elegant, perfect.