Page 50 of His Scarlette Obsession
“But you don’t have tostaymarried,” Vaughn snaps. “That’s what I’m trying to say if you’d only let me finish—”
Lykan strides inside at that moment, and Vaughn’s words come to an abrupt stop as my husband’s dominating presence immediately fills the room.
Something’s wrong.
I can see it in the way his handsome face has hardened into ice—
“May I present your elder brother, Vaughn Fuller?”
—just as Arav’s words make me realize I was wrong.
I stand corrected, actually.
Because apparently, there’s something more shocking than Lykan believing in God—
And that’s also God deciding to turn the two men in my life into...brothers?
“Since we’re all here—”
The pompousness in Vaughn’s tone catches me off guard. He’s never spoken like this before.Never.
“I think now’s a good time as any to make my intentions clear.”
And it has me staring at him like I’m besotted, but actually, it’s more like I’m dumbfounded. Becase honestly...where does he find the confidence? Like, seriously.
“In the laws of Sharasa—”
Why is he acting like the world has somehow changed, and it’s Lykan who’s the pauper—
“The firstborn has the right to claim any woman as his, even if she’s married to someone else.”
Lykan
“May I remind all parties that these minutes are being recorded in strict adherence to official protocol for every discourse between members of the royal family.”
Nadir’s voice is crisp, professional, as his pen hovers over the leather-bound ledger. The secretary’s dark eyes remain fixed on his notes, refusing to acknowledge the tension crackling through the conference room like a live wire.
I sit motionless, my expression likely as hard as the slab of granite that a Sharasan sculptor has artfully turned into a table for twelve and has since been installed in the royal jet.
But inside, I’m fucking reeling.
One of my secret dreams since childhood was having a sibling. Any sibling. Someone who understood what it meant to carry royal blood, to live with the weight of a crown you never asked for. Someone who could stand beside me instead of behind me.
But why did it have to be him?
Why did it have to be Vaughn fucking Fuller?
My gaze slides to Scarlette, seated rigidly beside me. Every line of her body screams tension, her spine straight as a blade, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles have gone white. I can feel the heat radiating from her skin, smell the faint trace of her perfume mixed with something sharper.
Fear.
I want to ask her what she’s thinking. The need claws at my chest like a caged animal. But I’m a coward, because I might not be ready to hear the truth.
The worst-case scenario loops through my mind on repeat: Scarlette rejoicing at the chance to trade up for a husband she actually chose. A husband she might have wanted all along.
“Discourse may now commence,” Nadir announces, his voice cutting through my spiraling thoughts.
I turn my gaze to Vaughn, my mind already racing ten steps ahead. Time to systematically dismantle this bastard’s argument. My greatest advantage should be my intimate knowledge of Sharasan law—
