My Ex Is My Fiancé’s Elder Brother

Rhys rises from his leather armchair, closing the distance between us. He doesn't look like the struggling student I knew in a cramped London flat. The man approaching me wears a bespoke charcoal suit, his posture radiating absolute authority.

"Rhys," Sterling says, stepping forward. He pulls me along, completely oblivious to the sudden ice forming in my veins. "Brother, this is my girlfriend, Wren."

Rhys stops a foot away. His dark eyes lock onto my face, tracing my features with a cold, mocking half-smile.

"Wren?" he repeats.

The syllable rolls off his tongue wrapped in razor blades.

"Yes," Sterling says, beaming. "Wren Gallagher."

"Gallagher," Rhys muses, tilting his head. "Fascinating."

I force my chin up, refusing to let my trembling hands show. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rhys."

"Is it?" He steps even closer. "I feel like we already know each other."

"We haven't met," I say quickly.

"Are you sure?" Rhys asks. "You look incredibly familiar."

"She has one of those faces," Sterling jokes, wrapping an arm around my waist.

Rhys's gaze drops to Sterling's hand resting on my hip. A muscle twitches in his jaw. "Right. One of those faces."

Eleanor claps her hands together, breaking the suffocating tension. "Well, let’s not stand around in the doorway. Dinner is ready in the main dining room."

The crystal chandeliers cast a harsh glow over the silver plat.

Rhys’s arm forms a solid cage against the wall. His knuckles graze the wood paneling right next to my ear, trapping me in place.

"What are you playing at, Wren?" he asks.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Footsteps pound down the corridor.

"Brother, what the hell are you doing?" Sterling's voice echoes off the vaulted ceiling.

Sterling rounds the corner, his face twisting into a dark scowl. He marches over and shoves Rhys by the shoulder, forcing him to step back.

I immediately put distance between us. My hands shake as I smooth the wrinkles from my silk dress.

"Nothing happened," I say, pasting a frantic smile on my face. "I tripped over the edge of the runner. Rhys just caught my arm before I hit the floor."

Sterling doesn't look convinced. He steps in front of me, shielding me from his brother. "You've been staring at her since we walked into the house. Do you have some kind of prejudice against my girlfriend?"

Rhys slips his hands into his trouser pockets. He scans my face, his eyes lingering on my flushed cheeks and the erratic pulse jumping in my neck.

"A prejudice?" Rhys asks.

"Yeah. You're acting entirely out of line."

Rhys lets out a dry, humorless laugh. He doesn't confirm or deny the accusation. "Just making sure she has good balance, Sterling."