Chapter 2

Olivia;

" What's wrong?" Marcus was asking, his tone laced with concern, but I was barely paying attention to him. My eyes were fixated on her.

She was so engrossed in speaking to someone–laughing. I suddenly wanted to be anywhere else. I needed to breathe.

"Do you know her?" Marcus asked, following my gaze.

My fingers clenched into fists and I turned to him, my voice in a whisper, "Do you?"

"That should be Layla, I suppose," he said casually.

Of course, it was.

"My brother's girlfriend."

"Your brother's girlfriend?" The room tilted, and I blinked fast. " Uh, never mind. Where is the restroom? I...I don't feel good."

Marcus' gaze instantly softened, his hands coming to rest at the small of my back. "Are you okay? Babe, what's wrong this time?"

"I'm fine, I promise. I just need to get to the restroom real quick."

I had just taken a step away when a soft voice called my name.

"Olivia?"

I turned, and was greeted by a warm, elegant woman with gracefully styled auburn hair and an effortlessly expensive outfit. Her eyes sparkled with warmth as she smiled.

"I'm Wendy Kingston," she said, stepping closer. "Marcus's mother."

"Oh. Mrs. Kingston. It's so lovely to meet you." I quickly composed myself, putting on a small smile as I extended a hand.

She waved it off gently and pulled me into a light embrace instead. "None of that formal stuff, dear. Please, call me Wendy."

Her eyes scanned me fondly.

"Goodness, you're even more beautiful in person. That dress is stunning on you. Truly. You look absolutely radiant."

I blushed a little, unsure of what to say. "Thank you. You look... amazing too."

She beamed. "I'm so glad Marcus finally brought you home to us. You're going to make a perfect addition to the family."

I smiled again, trying my best to look calm, even though my heart was pounding.

"I hate to be rude, Wendy," I said gently, "but could you point me in the direction of the restroom? I'm feeling a little... lightheaded."

"Oh, sweetheart, of course." She gestured with a nod. Just go down the hall and take the second door on your left. Take your time, dear. We'll be right here."

"Thank you."

I offered a polite smile and walked quickly away, my heels clicking softly against the floor.

The moment the restroom door clicked shut behind me, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, but I collapsed against the door, my chest heaving.

I felt like vomiting. My hands trembled as I clutched at the sink for balance. I found myself in front of the mirror, staring at my pale reflection, mascara already streaking down my cheeks.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to breathe, but each inhale came out ragged.

Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?

I just had to compose myself, go out there and act like everything is cool. It was all in the past. And the past should have nothing to do with the present.

But what was she doing here?

I reached for the door handle- opened, and almost slammed into someone.

Before I could get my bearings, I was pushed back in, and I heard the click of the door shutting.

My breath hitched, and my eyes widened as I stared at the man in front of me.

No!

No, no no...

I stumbled backwards, just as he took a step forward.

Damon.

My Damon.

My ex-boyfriend. The man I'd fallen madly in love with. The man who had ripped my heart out into tiny pieces and handed the cracks back to me.

The trauma I tried so hard to bury these past years, split open instantly. The memories rushed through my head as I recalled that awful summer.

The summer everything turned upside down. The summer my life took a drastic turn.

He kept staring. God, I know those eyes. His jaw ticked, just slightly, scanning me with an emotion I couldn't decipher.

I swallowed hard as I watched him, trying to keep my expression neutral, and my heart from beating too fast for safety.

He was dressed in button-up slacks and shirt with the first three buttons undone.

The more I stared at him, at those green swirls of his eyes, the more my chest tightened. I never imagined what my reaction would ever be should we ever meet. Hell, I never thought I would ever see him again.

I made sure of that.

His lips parted, green eyes staring at me in astonishment, his voice smooth, but guarded, "Hi Peaches..."

God...

"Wh...what are you doing here!?" I uttered, too stunned to find words, trying so hard to not dwell on how much I'd actually missed his voice.

"I could ask the same," he said, and before I knew it, he'd taken quick strides towards me, one strong hand grabbing my waist, and the other cupping my cheeks. "Fuck, Olivia. I can't believe it's you."

I leaned into him instinctively, taking in deep lungfuls of breaths as his musk scent washed over me.

His touch... goodness.

For a moment, I let myself bask in his familiar presence, that safety I had once felt whenever he held me close.

His hands tightened around me, but that was enough to pull me out of the haze and I pushed him away.

I need to leave.

"This....this is the ladies' room. You shouldn't be here."

" I thought I saw someone like you, and I needed to be sure. I...Olivia, do you know how long I've searched for you?"

His words caught me off guard, his tone surprisingly soft. If I was still naive and stupid, I'd have thought for a second that he actually cared about me.

I couldn't do this. I needed to leave. So I pulled away from his hold, and took a few steps past him, heading for the door. But his hands gripped my wrists tightly, before I could even move.

In a split second, I was pulled flush against his rock-hard chest.

"Get your hands off me!"

"Don't walk away from me, Liv. I won't let you this time. Do you even realize the damage you caused?"

"Excuse me!?" I tried so hard to fight the tears threatening to spill. I can't deal with this right now. " The damage I caused you!? Listen... I don't know what games you're playing or what exactly you're doing here, but I need you to stay out of my way, Damon. I mean it."

He tried to hold me back, but I pushed past him and sauntered out of there.

I walked back to the hall on legs that barely felt like mine.

My palms were cold. My heart wouldn't slow down. I told myself to breathe, to smile, to act normal-whatever that meant. But how could I do that, when I just want to curl up somewhere and disappear?

Damon being here just split open something I never imagined. Bringing back those horrific memories I'd tried to bury.

But now I had to pretend everything was fine in front of Marcus' whole damn family.

Get a grip, Olivia.

As I stepped into the room, it seemed the noise returned all at once-laughter, clinking glasses, murmured conversations. My eyes darted around automatically, checking.

Marcus was exactly where I needed him. Standing near the wine table, with a glass of wine, which he gulped in one go. His posture was tense. One hand was shoved into his pockets like he always did when he was pissed at something.

He looked up, and our eyes met, his expression brightening instantly. "Over here, babe!" he called, smiling.

I forced one in return and walked over.

He met me halfway, brushing a light kiss to my temple. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

"Yeah," I said. "Much better." A lie, but I needed to say it.

"Oh! Perfect timing," Marcus began to say as his eyes locked on something behind me, and I slowly turned. "Meet my non-existent brother, Damon Kingston. Damon, this is Olivia, my fiancèe."

I turned and froze, the color draining from my face the second time today.

Chapter 3. The Fiancèe

Olivia;

What do you do when you're engaged and about to wed the man you know deep down is the love of your life in a month, but your ex shows up? The one man who shattered and broke your heart three years ago. And you realize, painstakingly, that maybe, just maybe, you still have unresolved and complicated feelings for him?

That's me right now. Standing in the lavish hall the Kingstons had arranged and decorated for my engagement with Marcus. With the gut-wrenching realization that these two were brothers.

And honestly, I don't know what to make of this.

I'd spent three years thinking I'd moved on. Three years of rebuilding myself from the shattered pieces Damon left behind. And it took just a night for everything to come crashing again in the form of those piercing, stormy eyes I'd once memorized.

Right now, I couldn't breathe. And I sure as hell couldn't take my eyes off him either. My feet felt like they were cemented to the floor. I was frozen, caught in the middle of a really cruel joke.

I felt really, really sick.

Of all fucking coincidences in the world. Here I was: Engaged to the brother of the man I had once loved with everything in me.

My dress suddenly felt too tight. The room too hot. My vision blurred at the edges.

I could see his lips move, but I was too far lost in my head to grasp a hold of myself.

I could hear Marcus's worried voice...I could feel his hands on me. I could hear the chatter in the hall becoming increasingly louder and louder each passing second...

"Hey, hey, love. Relax. Relax okay..." Marcus' voice filtered to my subconscious just before the darkness overwhelmed me.

He was holding me back– it seemed like I had almost lost my footing as well.

" I'm sorry, I...it must be something I ate." I said, standing upright. But my voice sounded foreign to me.

But Damon's eyes were on me. Calm, but dangerously collected.

I should be focused. This was supposed to be my engagement party, and we had only arrived.

Confrontations aren't my best suit, and I'd rather bury myself than deal with this right now. But...

A high-pitched voice suddenly reached my ears--

"Heyyy, D,"

I looked and saw...her. The knot in my chest tightened.

Of all the people to disrupt...it had to be her. Of course. They were here together. She belonged to him now. As if the universe needed to drive the knife a little deeper.

I wasn't sure what burned more-jealousy or the betrayal I had no right to feel.

Layla sashayed towards us. On reaching Damon, she stumbled before casually wrapping her hands round his neck, finding his lips.

I couldn't take my eyes away. Something sharp twisted in my chest, and I felt my eyes sting with tears.

Nothing's changed. Just like that very day. My heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear anything else.

Damon's eyes locked on mine, and for a split second, the room stilled. But his jaw clenched, and he turned his face away from Layla's kiss, leaving her pouting in confusion.

"You need to sit," Marcus broke the awkward silence and began to lead me towards the staircase. True to his word, his brother was indeed stuck up, and there was clearly a brother-hate relationship between them.

"Wait..."

Shit!

" Olivia? Is that you?"

I turned slowly, mustering a calm expression.

Her eyes widened in shock upon meeting mine, "Wh...what are you doing here--wait, you're the fiancèe!?

She sounded like she was in disbelief.

"You guys know each other?" Marcus asked.

Her eyes brightened, "Ofc--"

"It's great to finally meet Kingston's Bride to be. "My breath hitched as Damon cut in, closing the space between us. "Didn't realize she was this breathtaking."

He brought forth his hands and reached for mine. I tried to ignore the heat rising to my cheeks as he brought it to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of my palm.

I don't know if he was shocked on realizing this piece of information, or... he'd known even before coming here. But if he hadn't, then he was really taking this more than I was.

Damon's eyes flicked to Marcus, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Maybe I should've taken Dad up on his offer," he said, his voice low. "She is... incredible."

Marcus stiffened beside me, his hand tightening on my waist. My breath caught. Why did that sound like more than a joke?

"What offer?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. But my heart thudded in my chest. Now, Damon was smirking like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Marcus let out a small, strained laugh. "Didn't know you were suddenly interested in family traditions, brother? And I can see you still love pushing buttons, don't you?"

"Oh, come on, little brother," Damon said, cocking his head. "It's just a harmless joke. Unless... you're worried there's something to be threatened about?"

The tension between them crackled. People were starting to glance our way.

I was also beginning to sense there was more to this, but the noise in my head was becoming increasingly loud and I just couldn't deal with all this.

My eyes accidentally drifted towards Layla, and gods, if looks could smother, I'd probably be six feet under by now.

I don't give a fuck. But her gaze was fixated on my hands, burning holes in them. And that's when I realized my hands were still in Damon's.

I quickly pulled away like I'd been burnt. Again, I really needed to focus.

"Come on, Marcus," I said quickly, as I forced my gaze away. "Let's go find your parents." I think I'm getting claustrophobic."

As Marcus led me away, I didn't dare look back. But I could feel them-Damon's eyes, Layla's daggers, and the glaring reality between the three of us. Making me sick to my stomach.

I thought I'd buried this years ago.

Chapter 4. Gold digger

Damon;

Three years.

Three fucking years since she left.

Three years since she dropped the bomb, and my life became a goddamn mess.

Coming to Rosecliff-my hometown, the same place I'd vowed never to step foot in again-was a last-minute decision. I shouldn't be here. I had told them I wouldn't be attending any shitty engagement, which, of course, would've been mine. Family traditions and all that crap.

We all knew this marriage was bound to happen...for the merger, plus the many benefits I'd have gotten out of it, but what I didn't know, until this moment, was the identity of the bride to be.

Now I fuckin wished I'd agreed to it. Fate really does have the shittiest sense of humor.

It was hard to believe. Seeing her again. But it was harder to stomach realizing she was engaged to Marcus.

The night gradually wore off, and while the few guests took their leave, I sank onto a couch in the living room, nursing a bottle of tequila.

A few minutes later, and the entire family were all seated, having their little cringey bonding moment.

"You know what?" Marcus's voice pulled me from my thoughts. He had that smug tone that made me want to break something. "I think I do owe you a heartfelt thank you, brother. I mean, this should've been your engagement, and for once, your nonchalance about family traditions actually paid off."

"Marcus," Father warned, his tone flat and irritated.

Of course, I could recall. And the damn realization made me want to hurl this bottle across the wall.

Marcus held up a hand, "No, seriously. Let's not pretend. We all knew a day like this would come-where you'd choose the perfect family for the merger... and Olivia? She's just right for me."

I scoffed silently. I could already feel my knuckles itching.

But Father said instead, "Well, it was always going to be her. I had made a deal with her father before he died. The marriage was going to happen either way, and since you," his eyes drifted to me, filled with the familiar disappointment I was already used to, "since you stubbornly refuse to adhere to it, it's only fair Marcus take the reins."

For some reason, the fact that she was literally stripped of her choice rattled me. Does she even love him? I guess she was left with no choice as this was an agreement between both families.

The tequila burned down my throat but did nothing to kill the rage crawling up my spine.

And then she walked in.

My peaches.

Hair brushed to one side, that soft uncertain smile she wore when she was uncomfortable, and her gaze, obviously and carefully avoiding mine.

Wendy-stepmother of the fucking year-hurried to her like she couldn't wait to gloat. "How're you, darling? Marcus said you weren't feeling well?"

Olivia tucked her hair behind her ear and offered that soft, polite smile. She still wouldn't look at me.

"I'm really sorry, Mrs. Kingston."

Mrs. Kingston, my foot.

Wendy waved dismissively. "I told you, just call me Wendy," she beamed, all sugary sweetness. And I understand crowds aren't your thing. Actually, it's a good thing we realized that today. We'll make the necessary arrangements on the wedding day so you don't lose consciousness halfway through."

She laughed at her own joke, the high-pitched sound getting on my last nerves. "Oh-and we're going for your dress fitting tomorrow, so make sure you rest up. It's going to be a fun-filled day."

Olivia chuckled softly at that, and for some reason, that sound sent my blood rushing. I looked away. Took another swig.

"Go on, dear," Wendy said, touching her arm. "You should get some rest."

Marcus started to get up to escort her, like a devoted fiancé he wanted everyone to believe he was.

But Olivia shook her head. "I'm fine," she said, her voice soft.

He sat back down reluctantly.

And just like that, everyone shifted focus-except me. I was still gripping the glass as if it was the only thing keeping me from losing my mind.

Wendy turned her attention to me, smiling brightly. "So, Damon. It's really great to finally see you again," she said. "But what's this I hear about you going back tomorrow? Your wedding is barely three weeks away... you should-"

"That's none of your fucking business, Wendy," I snapped before she could finish, and I didn't miss the stunned silence that fell over the room.

I leaned forward, my voice sharper now, my eyes pinned to hers. "Quit acting like my fucking mother and stick to being the Kingstons' gold digger. That title suits you better."

"Damon! Enough of that. Show some respect to her." Father's voice cracked through the room.

Wendy's face flushed a deep red. She stood up quietly and left the room without another word, her heels clicking hard on the floor.

"I can't believe this!" Kimberly, her daughter, hissed as she stood up. I'd almost forgotten she was in the room with us.

"Are you seriously all just going to sit here and let him talk to my mother like that?" She glared at me. "Who the hell do you even think you are!?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" I said coolly.

"Can you just stop it already!?" Marcus snapped, finally losing that plastic coolness he always wore. "Enough, Damon!"

Of course. Marcus, the Kingstons' pride. The peacemaker. Now that I think about it, he'd always stuck with Kimberly even years back. Protecting her from her bully stepbrother, aka, me.

I raised a brow at him, slow and amused. "Touched a nerve, baby brother?"

Kimberly looked like she was about to burst into tears. She turned on her heels and stormed out.

Marcus gave me one last glare before following her.

The only thing I felt was the pressure of Layla's hand on my arm, rubbing those annoying soothing circles, like I was some fucking child needing comfort. It did the opposite.

I scraped my chair back and tossed the bottle on the floor. I wasn't okay with this. I wasn't.

"Damon," my father called sharply. I didn't answer. They should be grateful I was here in the first place. I wasn't here to lick anyone's ass.

I made my way upstairs. Towards my room. But on second thought, and without a care in the goddamn world, I turned and kicked open the door to Marcus' room.

But--

I wasn't expecting the sight that greeted me.

There she was. Olivia. Facing me directly, eyes wide in horror, and...

completely naked.