Betrayed Before the Vows, I Married His Powerful Brother

"Irene, don't overthink it, I was just—"

What cut Phil off was the slap I cracked across his face.

Claire grabbed him and pulled him behind her instantly.

"Seriously, Irene? You're going to throw a fit over this? He already said sorry—what more do you want?"

"Phil and I grew up together. He had a drink for me. What's the big deal?"

The groomsmen chimed in one after another.

"Relax, sister-in-law, don't be like that. Claire might as well be a dude to us. We've all been this way since we were kids."

"You and Phil are getting married in three days. After that we're all family. It's nothing. Really, it's nothing."

I couldn't be bothered to waste another second on any of them. I turned and headed for the door.

Phil stepped in front of me.

"I went out of my way to invite every one of them. And you're going to embarrass me in front of—"

He hadn't finished the sentence before I walked straight past him and out of the house.

At the front gate, I pulled out my phone and called my father.

"Dad. Call off the wedding. I'm done with Phil."

"I'm marrying his brother. Merlin."

Early the next morning, I went back to the bridal suite Phil had arranged.

With only three days until the wedding, there were plenty of my things in that apartment.

Since I wasn't marrying him anymore, I was going to take back what was mine.

I opened the front door and the filthy sounds hit me before I'd taken a single step inside.

Claire's voice had gone syrupy and cloying, every syllable dripping with a kittenish heat that was nothing like last night's one-of-the-boys act.

"She was already furious last night. How do you still dare?"

"What if she catches on? She'll drop you like that."

Phil's voice was hoarse, thick with lust.

"Relax. She's liked me for years. She finally gets to marry me—you think she'd ever walk away from that?"

"Come on, you know the deal. If I didn't need a kid, why the hell would I marry her?"

"Don't worry. Once we're married and she's pregnant and delivers the baby, I'll divorce her. Then you and I can be together out in the open."

Their pillow talk drifted out in fragments.

So that was it. Phil was marrying me for one reason only—he needed someone to bear his child.

The longer I listened, the harder the tears fell, dropping heavy and fast.

The truth was, Claire and Phil weren't the only childhood sweethearts.

Phil and I had grown up together too.

The first time I saw him, I was six years old. His parents brought him and his older brother to our house for a visit.

But I'd just been scolded by my mother and was hiding in the little garden, crying where no one could see.

Little Phil stood in front of me, helpless at the sight of my tears, hands fidgeting at his sides.

He scrunched up his face and stared for a long moment, as though working out some impossible problem.

Finally, he held out his hand. Two butterscotch candies sat in his palm, small and bright.

"Hey, don't cry. Here—candy. Pretty girls stop being pretty when they cry, you know?"

I took the two candies, and the little boy broke into a grin.

"You ate my candy, so now you have to be my bride."

Through the blur of my tears I couldn't even make out his face.

But even so, I was certain that the little prince from my storybooks looked exactly like the boy standing in front of me.

The bride thing was a joke. I was the only one who took it seriously.

From that day on, I became Phil's little shadow.

Elementary school, middle school, high school—we were never apart.

Until a year ago, when Phil showed up out of nowhere.

"Irene, let's be together."