Four Brothers and a Bride novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Morning After
Rosalind wakes up married to Wyatt Chisholm, tells her ex she wants her money back, and walks into the boardroom, where three more of her husband walk in.
I woke up married to a billionaire, and the first thing I did was check whether I still had my shoes.
They were on the carpet by the bed, side by side.
The bed was the size of my whole apartment.
The window behind it was a wall of glass, and the Strip lay under it, gray and tired in the morning light.
I was still in my green dress.
The left strap was still held together with the safety pin I'd put in it on Friday.
On the pillow next to mine was a sheet of heavy cream paper.
CERTIFICATE OF MARRIAGE, State of Nevada.
Bride: Rosalind June Ware.
Groom: Wyatt Chisholm.
Time: 1:40 a.m.
My signature sat on the line, a little crooked, the R too big.
His sat next to it, black and sharp and completely sure of itself.
I looked down at my left hand.
A man's signet ring was jammed onto my thumb, black stone, a gold L cut into it.
It was the only finger it fit.
I remembered him pushing it on there, laughing under his breath, saying, "We'll get you a real one."
I remembered almost everything.
I remembered Whit standing up from our table on the rooftop at 9:20 and telling me he was marrying someone else.
I remembered the man in the gray suit who sat down in Whit's empty chair ten minutes later.
I remembered laughing until I cried, and a quiet room full of books.
I remembered a kiss against a glass rail with the whole city burning behind us.
I remembered a little white chapel and my own voice saying vows nobody had written for me.
What I couldn't do was picture his face this morning without it sliding around on me.
The chair by the window had a jacket folded over its arm.
Gray wool.
The cushion held the dent of somebody who'd slept sitting up.
He'd sat there all night, and then he'd left.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Whit.
"Hope you got home ok. Please don't make a scene at the party Saturday. It's my work, Roz. Be an adult about this."
I read it once.
Three years.
Twenty-two thousand dollars of my savings, every cent I'd saved to buy half the bookstore.
All of it sitting in a condo in Summerlin with only his name on the deed.
And he was asking me to be an adult.
I put my shoes on.
I fixed my hair with the pencil from the hotel notepad.
I folded the certificate into thirds and slid it into the pocket of the gray jacket.
Then I put the jacket on, because it was cold and it was my husband's.
The elevator in the hall had only two buttons.
Lobby, and a key card slot marked EXECUTIVE.
There was a key card in the jacket's inside pocket.
I used it.
The doors opened on a hallway of white marble and a wall of black letters that said CHISHOLM RESORTS.
And right in front of the doors, holding a coffee tray, was Whit.
His new fiancee was beside him, in a cream suit, with a ring on her hand big enough to stir drinks with.
Whit's face went from surprise to embarrassment to something mean, all in about a second.
"Roz." He stepped in front of her like I was a stray dog. "What are you doing on this floor?"
"Visiting."
"You can't be up here." He lowered his voice. "Is that a man's jacket? Oh my God. Did you sleep in the hotel?"
His fiancee looked me over, from the safety pin to the shoes.
"Whit, who is this?"
"Nobody. She used to work near my place." He said it without blinking.
I'd spent two years of weekends at his place.
I'd painted its kitchen.
"I want my twenty-two thousand dollars back," I said. "By Friday."
The hallway went very quiet.
Whit laughed, short and fake. "This is not the time."
"Friday," I said. "Or I'll come to your party Saturday and ask for it there."
I walked past them both.
At the end of the hall there was a glass desk.
The young assistant behind it stood up the moment she saw me.
"Ma'am, Mr. Chisholm is in a board meeting."
"Good," I said. "I'm his wife."
She was too stunned to stop me.
The boardroom doors were tall and dark and heavier than they looked.
Inside, a long table, twelve people in suits, and every one of them turned around.
At the head of the table sat the man from last night.
Black hair, gray eyes, the same gray suit as the jacket on my shoulders.
He didn't look surprised.
He looked like a man watching a glass fall off a shelf.
I walked the length of the table, took the certificate out of his jacket, and laid it flat in front of him.
"Good morning," I said. "You left before breakfast."
Somebody on the board coughed.
He looked at the paper, then up at me, and his face didn't change at all.
"Everyone out," he said.
Nobody moved fast enough.
Then the side door behind him opened.
A second man walked in, reading something on his phone, and stopped dead.
Black hair. Gray eyes. Last night's gray suit, the tie hanging loose.
Behind him came a third, in wire glasses and a soft blue sweater.
Then a fourth, in a black T-shirt with SECURITY across the chest.
He looked at me, and at the ring on my thumb, and said very quietly, "Oh, hell."
Want to keep talking to characters like these? Chat with AI romance characters: AI Boyfriend · AI Girlfriend · Dark Romance · Fantasy Romance · BL (Boys’ Love) · Billionaire Boyfriend · Mafia Boyfriend · Possessive Boyfriend · Hockey Boyfriend · Older Boyfriend · K-Drama Boyfriend · Anime Boyfriend · Vampire Boyfriend · Werewolf Boyfriend · Demon Boyfriend · Fae Romance · GL (Girls’ Love) · Anime Girlfriend · Goth & Alt Girlfriend · Gamer Girlfriend · Tsundere Girlfriend · Fantasy Girlfriend