Page 49 of Claimed By The Other Brother

"I don't know." She steps back, gesturing for me to come in.

"I keep trying to call Miles. He won't answer. I don't understand how he could do this."

I don't have an answer for her. Miles has always been impulsive, always run from commitment. But this? This is beyond anything I thought even he was capable of.

"He'll call eventually," I tell her, though I'm not sure I believe it.

"When he's ready to face what he did."

"And that poor girl." Barbara's voice breaks.

"Scarlett. She must be devastated."

An image of Scarlett flashes through my mind. Not devastated on the terrace, but beneath me in bed. Coming apart. Crying and releasing her orgasm on my cock. Falling asleep in my arms.

I push the thought away.

"She'll be okay. Eventually."

My mother studies me for a moment, something searching in her gaze. Then she nods.

"I hope so."

We talk for a few more minutes. I promise to call when I land in New York. She promises to letme know if Miles contacts her. I hug her goodbye and head downstairs.

The car is waiting at the curb. A sleek black sedan, the driver already loading my bags into the trunk.

"Airport, Mr. Blackwell?"

"Yes. Private terminal."

The drive through Chicago feels surreal. The city looks the same as it did three days ago when I arrived. But everything has changed.

We reach the airport. My jet is fueled and ready on the tarmac, the crew waiting. I board, settling into my usual seat. My laptop is already out, emails queued up, work waiting. The engines roar to life. The plane taxis down the runway.

As we lift off, I look out the window at Chicago shrinking below. The skyline. The lake. Somewhere down there, Scarlett is picking up the pieces of her shattered life—and I'm flying away.

My mind should be on work—on the meetings waiting for me tomorrow. On the acquisition deals and quarterly reports and strategic decisions that comprise my life. But as the plane climbs higher, leaving Chicago behind, there's only one thought in my head.

Will I ever see her again?

Chapter Eight

Scarlett

The sunlight is invasive.

It streams through my bedroom window, harsh and unforgiving, forcing me awake despite my desperate desire to stay buried under the covers forever.

Three days.It's been three days since the wedding that never happened.

I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the plaster. Anything to avoid thinking about what my life has become.

My apartment feels like a tomb. I've barely left this bed except to use the bathroom and occasionally force myself to eat something. The blinds have stayed closed. My phone has been on silent. The outside world continues without me, and I'm fine with that.

Except I'm not fine. I replay it constantly. Standing in that corridor in my wedding dress. The wedding coordinator's horrified face. Eric's somber expression as hedelivered the news. The humiliation crashing down as everyone around me watched me fall apart.

And then... Dax.