He Trapped Me In Maldives With His Brother

The plane tilted upward, and the ground fell away beneath me.

Maldives. Eleven hours of ocean, then white sand and silence.

A week ago, Kael had slid the tickets across our kitchen island like a love letter.

"You need this, Nora," he'd said, kissing my temple. "The wedding's going to eat us alive. Go breathe. Come back to me rested."

Five years together. Two families who had shaken hands over our engagement like it was a merger, because it was one. My father's shares had already been signed over to Kael's family three months ago. My part of the deal, done.

I hadn't minded. We were building something. That's what I told myself every time I signed another page.

I'd barely buckled my seatbelt when someone dropped into the empty seat beside me.

Dark coat. Sharp jaw. The same gray eyes as my fiancé, only colder.

Caspian Rourke. Kael's younger brother.

I frowned. "Caspian? I didn't know you were on this flight."

He didn't say hello. He didn't smile. He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen twice, and held it in front of my face.

"Watch."

"What is this?"

"Just watch, Nora."

A video started playing.

I knew the room before I knew anything else. The floor-to-ceiling windows. The gray velvet couch I'd picked out myself. Our penthouse.

Kael stood near the window. His hand rested on a woman's waist. She had her back to the camera, long dark hair, a silk robe that wasn't mine.

He leaned down. His voice came through the tiny speaker, low and warm.

"You're the only thing that makes sense to me."

My stomach turned over.

He'd said that to me. On our third date. In the rain outside a closed bookstore.

The woman laughed. Kael pulled her closer.

I shoved the phone away. "Turn it off."

Caspian lowered it but didn't put it away. "He booked you this trip for a reason."

"He booked it because I've been stressed."

"He booked it," Caspian said, his voice flat and quiet against my ear, "so you'd be four thousand miles away while he plays house with her."

"Stop."

"I'm not saying this to hurt you."

"Then why are you saying it?" My throat felt tight, like someone had wrapped a hand around it. "We're getting married in six weeks. We love each other. That video could be from anytime. Before me. Edited. Something."

"It was recorded Tuesday."

"You don't know that."

"I know that." He held my stare. "I was the one who recorded it."

I laughed. It came out wrong, too high, too sharp. A woman across the aisle glanced over.

"Of course you were," I said. "Of course it's you."

His jaw tightened. "Meaning what?"

"Meaning everyone knows how you feel about him, Caspian. He's the heir. You're the spare. Your father gave him the board seat, and you've been sulking about it for two years."

"You think I'd burn your life down over a board seat?"

"I think you'd do a lot of things to make him look bad."

For a second, something moved behind his eyes. Not anger. Something closer to tired.

Then it was gone.

"Fine," he said. "Believe what you want. For now."

He turned toward the window and didn't speak to me again.

I pressed my forehead against my seat and stared at the back of the headrest until the cabin lights dimmed. I didn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Kael's hand on that silk robe.

*It's not real,* I told myself. *He's lying. He's always been jealous.*

I said it so many times, the words stopped meaning anything.

---

The heat hit me the second the cabin door opened. Thick and wet, like walking into someone's breath.

I grabbed my carry-on and moved fast. Down the jet bridge, past the duty-free, toward the customs line. I didn't look back.

I just needed space. One hour without him, and I could call Kael, and he'd laugh, and this whole thing would fold back into nothing.

"Nora."

I kept walking.

"Nora, wait."

Footsteps behind me, longer strides than mine. Then Caspian stepped in front of me, right at the edge of the line. Close enough that I had to stop or crash into his chest.

"Move," I said.

"Not yet."

"I'm not doing this here."

"You don't have a choice about doing this." He reached into his coat and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. "Did you ever ask yourself why I'm on your flight?"

"Business. Coincidence. I don't care."

"I didn't book my own ticket."

I stopped reaching for my passport.

"Kael's assistant sent me this itinerary last Thursday," Caspian said. "Said my brother wanted me to take a break. Handle some resort partnership out here. Very thoughtful of him."

He unfolded the paper and held it up.

My eyes skimmed the lines. Flight number. Same as mine. Arrival time. Same. Hotel name.

The Coral Veil. Same.

Then the last line.

*Suite 1104 – Overwater Villa. Two guests.*

I read it twice. Then a third time.

"That's my suite," I whispered.

"I know."

"That's my room number. He sent me the confirmation. It's in my email."

"I know, Nora."

"Why would he—" My voice cracked in the middle. I swallowed and tried again. "Why would he put you in my room?"

Caspian folded the paper slowly. He didn't answer right away. He didn't need to.

"Same flight," he said quietly. "Same hotel. Same suite. He arranged every piece of it himself."

Cold slid down my spine, so sharp it felt like ice water poured straight down the back of my dress. In the middle of all that heat, my fingers went numb around the handle of my bag.

Six weeks before the wedding.

The shares already signed.

And my fiancé had sent me to the other side of the world, locked in a single room with his brother.

I lifted my eyes to Caspian's face.

"What does he want people to see?" I asked.

Caspian's mouth pressed into a hard line.

"That," he said, "is exactly what I'm afraid of."

Behind us, someone's camera flash went off.