Abandoned Heiress: Married to My Brother-in-Law

Adela's ankle twisted sharply.

The floor rushed up to meet her. A short gasp tore from her throat as she lost all balance. She braced herself for the brutal impact of the marble floor, squeezing her eyes shut.

The impact never came.

Instead, a strong, unyielding arm wrapped tightly around her waist. She was yanked sideways, crashing into a solid wall of muscle and expensive fabric.

A sharp, clean scent of cedar and bergamot flooded her senses. It instantly overpowered the stale cigar smoke and cheap cologne clinging to her clothes from the hallway.

Adela gasped, her hands instinctively grabbing onto a broad shoulder to steady herself.

She opened her eyes.

She was staring directly into a pair of eyes as cold and deep as a frozen lake.

The man holding her was striking. His jawline looked like it had been cut from glass. He wore a charcoal suit that fit him with lethal precision.

He helped her stand upright, but his hand didn't leave her waist. His fingers pressed firmly against her spine, a silent, heavy weight making sure she didn't fall again.

"My apologies," his voice was a low, magnetic rumble that vibrated in his chest. "I didn't see you coming."

Adela blinked, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. She looked down. It was his leg she had tripped over.

She took a quick step back, forcing his hand to drop from her waist. The loss of his body heat made the cold hallway air bite at her skin.

"No," Adela said, her voice trembling slightly. She wiped roughly at her wet eyes, hating that he was seeing her like this. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

She needed to leave. The humiliation of Juston's words was still burning a hole in her stomach. She couldn't deal with a stranger right now.

She gave a stiff nod and turned toward the glass exit doors.

"Adela Richmond, isn't it?"

The man's voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

Adela's entire body went rigid. She spun back around, her nails digging into her palms again. How did he know her name?

The man stood up. He was incredibly tall, his broad shoulders blocking out the light from the lobby lamps. He cast a long shadow that completely swallowed her.

He extended a large, steady hand toward her.

"Harmon Holland."

The name hit Adela like a physical blow to the chest.

Harmon Holland. The ruthless heir to the Holland Group. The ghost of Wall Street.

And the man her grandfather had signed a trust agreement with. The man she was legally bound to marry if the families demanded it.

Juston's mocking voice echoed in her skull. Keeping her pisses off Harmon Holland.

Adela stared at his outstretched hand. Her stomach churned violently. He was here. He had probably heard everything. He was probably laughing at her just like Juston was. He was looking at the pathetic, boring pawn who couldn't even keep a fake boyfriend.

She didn't take his hand.

She pulled her shoulders back, wrapping her arms around her own waist defensively.

Harmon didn't look offended. He slowly lowered his hand, his expression unreadable. He let his gaze drop to her red, tear-stained eyes, then back up to her face.

"You look like you're having a terrible night," Harmon stated. It wasn't a question. It was a cold, clinical observation.

Adela's jaw clenched so hard her teeth ached.

"That is none of your business, Mr. Holland," she snapped, the words tasting like ash in her mouth.

Harmon didn't flinch at her tone. He glanced toward the glass doors. "It's raining. Do you have somewhere to go?"

Adela finally heard the heavy drumming of rain against the glass. A storm had rolled in. Perfect. Just perfect.

She looked back at Harmon. His face was a mask of polite indifference, but she felt trapped under his gaze. She refused to be pitied by the man she was supposed to be sold to.

"I don't need anything from you," Adela said harshly.

She turned her back on him and marched toward the exit.

The doorman pulled the heavy glass door open. A blast of freezing wind and rain hit Adela in the face, soaking her hair instantly. She shivered violently but stepped out into the storm anyway.

Just as her heel hit the wet pavement, her phone vibrated in her purse.