Page 90 of Claimed By The Other Brother

Sarah grins.

"I love that energy. Fuck Miles. You deserve better."

"Language," I say, but I'm smiling.

Before they leave, I give them copies of my apartment key.

"Check my mail? Make sure the place doesn't fall apart?"

"Of course," Jane says, pulling me into a hug.

"We'll take care of everything. You just focus on conquering New York."

"And Dax Blackwell," Sarah adds with a wink. I throw a pillow at her.

After they're gone, I look around my apartment. Boxes stacked by the door. Suitcases lined up in the hallway. My whole life condensed into manageable pieces. The apartment will be here when I get back. Blackwell Media is covering my rent as part of the contract. Everything is taken care of. I just have to go.

The morning I leave, I wake before my alarm. The car service is coming at nine to take me to the airport. I shower, dress, do one final check of my apartment. Everything is locked, lights off, windows secured. At the door, I pause. My hand on the knob. Six months. I'm leaving Chicago for six months to work in New York. To work with Dax.

I take a deep breath and lock the door behind me. The driver is waiting downstairs, a professional man in a dark suit who loads my luggage efficiently and holds the door for me.

During the drive to the airport, I pull out the email Ireceived from Emma, Dax's assistant. Apartment details. Address on Twenty-Third Street. Building amenities. Move-in instructions.

And at the bottom: information about a monthly allowance for incidentals and living expenses. The number makes my eyes widen. It's generous. More than generous.

I scroll to the apartment photos. Modern, clean, bright. And according to the map, it's a fifteen-minute walk from Blackwell Media headquarters.

Dax placed me close. Deliberately.

The flight to New York is smooth. I have a window seat, and I spend most of it staring at the clouds, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

This is a business opportunity. A chance to work on a high-profile crisis management case. To learn, to grow, to build my reputation.

That's what I tell myself.

But the truth is more complicated. Because waiting for me in New York is a man who orchestrated this entire arrangement just to get me there. A man whose touch I can't forget. A man who makes me feel things I've never felt before.

What am I walking into?

The plane descends through the clouds, and Manhattan comes into view. The skyline. The buildings. The city that's about to become my home.

I'm nervous. Excited. Terrified. But I don't regret saying yes. Whateverhappens next, at least I'll know.

The wheels touch down with a gentle bump.New York.

I'm here.

Chapter Eighteen

Scarlett

The lobby of Blackwell Media Corp is all glass and steel, modern art installations punctuating the massive space. I step through the revolving doors and stop, taking it in. This is real. I'm actually here.

A security desk sits to my left, and I approach with my ID and the email from Emma printed out as proof.

"Scarlett Bradford," I tell the guard.

"First day."