Drugged, Seduced, And Married To His Brother

Gemma zipped up her suitcase, the sound loud in the quiet bedroom.

She had already backed up the audio file to three different secure cloud servers.

She walked over to the wall safe hidden behind a painting. She punched in the code to grab the deed to her late mother's art gallery.

As her fingers brushed against the cold metal keypad, a strange, phantom lightness hit her left hand.

Gemma froze.

She slowly lifted her left hand, her eyes locking onto her ring finger.

It was empty.

This wasn't just a wedding band. It was the antique diamond ring that contained the microscopic key-code engraving-the only physical key to the Swiss safe deposit box holding the core documents of the Roberson family trust fund.

Her lungs stopped working. Her brain frantically rewound the last twenty-four hours.

The memory hit her like a physical blow.

The dark hotel bathroom. She had taken the ring off to splash cold water on her burning face.

A cold sweat broke out across her forehead. If she lost that ring, the divorce would be stalled, and the family lawyers would sue her for millions.

She grabbed her phone and dialed the K.M. Club's concierge.

"I left a ring in the penthouse suite last night," Gemma said, her voice shaking.

"I apologize, ma'am," the polite voice replied. "That suite is a lifetime private lease. Without the owner's explicit permission, even our cleaning staff cannot enter."

Gemma hung up, her stomach dropping to the floor. She quickly texted Armida, begging her to use her connections to find out who owned that suite.

Across Manhattan, inside the towering glass walls of the Roberson Group headquarters, Joseph was losing his mind.

He slammed a financial report directly into his assistant's chest.

"Why is the stock crashing?!" Joseph screamed, his face red.

The assistant trembled. "A massive, anonymous fund from Wall Street is aggressively shorting our shares, sir."

Before Joseph could yell again, the heavy office doors swung open.

Arthur Roberson, Joseph's father, walked in, leaning heavily on his cane. His face was dark with fury.

He slammed the cane against the marble floor.

"Jakob Fuentes is back," Arthur announced, his voice echoing in the large room.

Joseph's face drained of all color.

Jakob. His illegitimate, exiled older half-brother.

"He brought top-tier Silicon Valley capital with him," Arthur continued coldly. "He's taking over our biggest merger."

"That's my project!" Joseph yelled, his voice cracking.

"The board only cares about money," Arthur snapped. "Unless you can stabilize the family trust structure, you're out. You and Gemma will attend the family dinner at the Hamptons estate this weekend to kill the divorce rumors."

Joseph felt a cold dread settle in his stomach.

He had just thrown the divorce papers at Gemma.

If she didn't show up, he would lose the entire company.

Joseph pulled out his phone and frantically dialed Gemma's number.

Outside the apartment building, Gemma dragged her suitcase onto the sidewalk. Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

She looked at the screen. Joseph.

She let out a dry laugh, hit decline, and immediately blocked his number.

In his office, Joseph heard the dead tone. He threw his phone against the bulletproof glass window.

"Find her!" Joseph roared at his assistant. "I need her to understand the urgency of this situation!"

Meanwhile, deep in the underground parking garage of Wall Street, a black Maybach idled silently.

Behind the tinted glass, Jakob Fuentes watched the stock ticker on his tablet.

He had the ring. And soon, he would have her.