Chapter 1

Alexander Shaw is the ultimate brother enabler, spoiling Eric Shaw, his little brother, rotten at every turn.

When Eric wrecks his car and plows into some poor guy on the road, the victim hasn't even made it to the ER before Alexander is shoving a fat stack of compensation cash into his hands.

Then there is the time Eric gets into a brutal street brawl, shattering four ribs on one of the other fighters. But before the guy can even raise hell about it, Alexander has pulled an all-nighter, rounding up over a hundred cutthroat lawyers to bury that kid in court and lock him away in prison.

All because the punk dares to slap Eric across the face.

It isn't until later, when Alexander finally brings me home to meet the family, that things spiral into pure madness. Eric lounges there, jamming his hands in his pockets casually as he blurts out, "Hey, I kinda dig your girl. Mind handing her over?"

And just like that, Alexander personally delivers me straight to Eric's bed.

Alexander even masterminds my lavish wedding, chaining me to a man who sees me as a toy, only for my groom to abandon me at the altar.

Left alone, I am publicly slapped and shamed by Eric's new fling, all while Alexander, the architect of my despair, watched from the crowd.

I whip around to face Alexander with a bitter laugh.

"Your brother's turned into total scum. You still gonna force me to marry him?"

*****

I caught a hint of restrained pain flicker across Alexander Shaw's face.

For a split second, I thought he might actually be softening toward me.

But in the next moment, his expression went blank.

"Eric just doesn't know any better," he said flatly.

Hearing that, I didn't cry or make a scene.

I just walked back to the dressing room, yanking the veil from my hair and kicking off the torturous heels.

This time, with Alexander, I was really and truly done.

When I stepped out of the dressing room, my best friend, Chloe Bennett, was waiting for me in her bridesmaid dress with concern.

"I'm so sorry. My flight was delayed," she whispered. "My shoulder's here if you need it."

I just shook my head and walked over to the vanity, my hands automatically moving to pluck the beaded hairpin from my hair.

But the more I fumbled with it, the more a raw frustration clawed at me, until I finally just ripped it out, taking a chunk of my hair with it.

The sharp pain on my scalp brought back the day Alexander bid on this antique hairpin at an auction. He had leaned in close, murmuring against my ear.

"Do you like it? If you do, it's yours."

I had smiled, meeting his eyes brimming with deep affection.

"Ten million dollars! Just because I like it?"

He had let out a soft laugh and taken my hand, saying with casual sincerity, "If my Sophie wants it, I'll pluck the stars from the sky for you."

Because of those words, that hairpin had become my most treasured possession. I wore it constantly.

Every night, I would carefully take it down, polishing each bead until it shone.

I never imagined that one day, this symbol of his love would be the first item on the gift list for my marriage to his brother.

A sharp tremor of pain shot through my chest.

I dug the pointed end of the hairpin deep into the soft flesh of my palm. The physical pain served as a welcome distraction.

"Sophie, let go! What are you doing?" Chloe cried, rushing to my side.

I managed a faint smile.

"It's nothing."

I unclenched my hand, not even glancing at the blood staining the delicate pearls, and asked calmly.

"Chloe, is that school you funded in the mountains still looking for teachers? I want to go."

Chloe stared at me, stunned for a moment.

"Of course," she replied.

As Chloe led me out of the wedding hall, the sky began to weep.

It was a soft drizzle, and it instantly transported me back to another rainy day when I found Alexander.

He was a silhouette in the downpour, hunching before a headstone. His features twisted in pain, his eyes holding deep despair.

My own mother had just died. I couldn't wrap my head around it. That same afternoon, she had fussed over me, reminding me to wear an extra sweater against the cold.

But by the time I got back, she had died of a brain hemorrhage.

So that day, while Alexander grieved silently at the grave next door, I was the one howling, my sobs echoing through the cemetery.

We both cried until the groundskeeper came to kick us out.

I was in the middle of a truly heart-wrenching sob session as I navigated the winding rows of graves. Suddenly, a stray cat darted out from behind a tombstone. I screamed, my grief instantly replaced by sheer terror.

With tears and snot streaming down my face, I leaped onto Alexander's back, clinging to him for dear life.

"A ghost!" I shrieked.

For some reason, he didn't throw me off. He just carried me.

He carried me all the way out of the cemetery. And when I eventually passed out from exhaustion on his back, he didn't wake me. He took me home with him.

It wasn't until the next morning that I realized the man I had shared a moment of profound grief with was the tech mogul, the CEO of Shaw Technologies.

I was mortified. I had applied for an internship at his company ten times and had been rejected every single time.

But I had never been one to let shame get in my way. After mooching a piggyback ride and a free breakfast, I pulled out my resume and launched into the most aggressive sales pitch of my life.

I expected him to be annoyed and to tell me to shut up.

But he just sat there, calmly eating his steak and drinking his coffee, not even glancing in my direction.

I figured it was a lost cause. But when he finished, he finally looked up at me.

"Our mothers are buried side-by-side," he said. "I'll get you in."

I was floored.

True to his word, he personally walked me into the office that day and had HR process my paperwork on the spot.

I became an intern in his executive office.

Alexander was a brutal boss. He made me cry in his office on a weekly basis.

A typo in a report, a misfiled document, and even walking into a meeting room before a client were grounds for a lecture.

Every time I saw that cold look on his face, I wanted to scream. But mostly, I just hated myself for being so clumsy. Why did I always screw up?