Page 7 of Marrying His Brother

Andrew’s gaze doesn’t waver, his eyes lock on mine. “I have a proposition for you,” he says, his voice calm, but firm. “We can go ahead with the wedding, if you’d allow me to take Daniel’s place. Let’s get married, Emily.”

I blink, thrown back by the bluntness of his statement. For a second, I think I misheard him.Has he lost his mind?Before I can even form a response, Andrew continues.

“We’ll achieve what our families need, what we both need. One year, and then we can go our separate ways.”

I set my bottle down, staring at him. I want to laugh but his expression is solemn. He’s actually serious. “That’s a ridiculous proposal.”

“Why?” he asks. Then he tilts his head slightly, calculating, processing. The image of the wild cat enters my mind again and Ihave to internally refocus when he adds, “Unless you actually loved my brother?”

That’s personal territory and none of his business. Rather than tell him so, I dodge it. “What would people think? Me, jumping from one brother to the other?”

Andrew leans back slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. “Which people? Only the two families were aware of the arrangement in the first place.”

I open my mouth, but no words come out. He’s right, technically. Outside of our families, no one knew about the business deal wrapped up in this so-called marriage. But, still, there’s something deeply unsettling about this entire proposition.

Andrew stands, towering over me for a moment as he straightens his jacket. “I know it’s a lot to take in. Think about it.” His tone is calm, composed, as if he’s just proposed a simple business transaction.

Then, without waiting for a response, he turns and heads for the door. The sound of the latch clicking shut as he leaves echoes through the quiet apartment.

I sit there, frozen. The idea is preposterous, but, as much as I want to dismiss it, I can’t. The stakes are too high.

My mind flashes back to the crumbling walls of the Riviera Army Base hotel. The constant repairs. The never-ending problems. A beacon of hope started shining in her mind once again. Renovations, marketing, stabilizing the company—all of it could be within reach. And all I need to do is say yes to Andrew.

I don’t know him. Not really. Even though I didn’t love Daniel, I knew him. We went to school together. There was history, familiarity. Andrew, on the other hand, is a mystery—cold, calculated, and now offering marriage like it’s just another deal to close.

I pick up the bottle of water and take a sip, trying to clear my head. What kind of person makes a proposal like that? More importantly, what kind of person actually considers it?

Chapter 4: Emily

“Well done, everyone. See you tomorrow,” the yoga instructor says, signaling the end of class. I sit up slowly, rolling my mat and glancing at Lisa, who’s already on her feet, her usual energy barely contained.

“You want to grab something to eat?” she asks, stretching her arms over her head.

I nod. “Yeah, let’s go downstairs.”

We head out of the studio and down to the deli shop on the corner. The nutty scent of freshly brewed coffee greets us as we walk in. We get two coffees and two salads, an early dinner for both of us.

The small table at the corner empties and we quickly make a beeline for it.

“You’re not actually considering it, are you?” Lisa asks, picking up where we left off before class, her eyes widening as she leans over the table.

I sigh, tearing open the top of my salad container. “I am. The company is in a bad state. You know that.”

“You could bring in an investor,” she insists, stabbing her fork into the salad. “Someone who’ll be a silent partner. There’s got to be a company willing to do it without tying you to… well, this.”

I shake my head. “It was an option at first. But most of the investors I’ve talked to want to restructure the hotels completely. Some even suggested demolishing a few locations.

“They’d bring in their own teams, cut costs, replace our employees—people who have been with us since they were eighteen. They’ve built their lives with Riviera. Most of them hope to retire with us.”

Lisa’s eyes soften as she listens, her fork suspended midair. “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

I nod, taking a sip of my coffee. “It is.”

There’s a pause, and then she says, “I could be an investor.”

I blink, surprised by the offer. I know she means well—Lisa’s always been the supportive, jump-in-with-both-feet type of best friend.

She runs a cosmetics company that’s already causing a buzz in the market, but they’re still growing.

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