Cheated by My Husband, Wed His Ruthless Mafia Brother

Roselyn Winslow's POV:

"Roselyn, come closer." Paul Bradley caught my lower lip between his teeth, and his voice dropped into that rough tone he used when he wanted something from me.

Heat rushed to my face, but excitement followed right behind it.

It had been so long since Paul had shown me this kind of attention. The party was still going strong right outside the room, but I was ready to give in to him anyway.

"Take it easy," I murmured. "I don't want anyone out there hearing us."

Paul gave my thigh a deliberate squeeze. "What is it? You're shy now?"

He always liked teasing me that way. I rolled my eyes in mock anger and turned my face aside, only to notice a tiny red light glowing nearby. What the hell was that? My stomach dropped when I realized it looked just like a hidden camera lens.

"Paul, stop." I pushed against him.

He ignored me and reached for me again. Panic tightened around my throat.

"I said stop! Paul!" I shoved him with everything I had, and the force sent him falling away from me.

I hurried to straighten my clothes before stumbling toward a stack of party decorations. After throwing them aside, I found exactly what I'd feared. A camera was hidden behind them, pointed straight at the bed.

Then voices from the other side of the door reached me.

"I told you. Roselyn's that kind of slut. Paul only has to call, and she'll do whatever he wants."

"Can you imagine her face when she realizes Paul only brought her here to fuck around so we could get it all on video? Think she'll cry, lose her mind, and try to kill herself?"

"Why would she? He's the Bradley family's heir. Roselyn's been desperate to marry him forever."

Every word made my expression colder. What the hell were they talking about?

I turned toward Paul and stared at him. "Why did you bring me here?"

He had already pushed himself upright on the bed and ran a hand through his hair like none of this mattered. "It was supposed to be fun, Roselyn. Don't act like you weren't enjoying yourself too."

My brows pulled together. Fun? Was that really how little Paul thought of me? I'd been his girlfriend for three years. I loved him. I'd put up with all his shit and even stayed after learning he'd been sleeping with other women. Now he'd dragged me into this and turned something private into entertainment for his friends?

"Come on, Roselyn." Paul got off the bed and walked toward me without a hint of concern. "Isn't this what you've always wanted? You wanted everyone to know you were with me. We both got something out of this game."

My palm struck his face before I had time to stop myself.

Anger swallowed everything else, but underneath it was the bitter realization that I'd wasted too much time on him. I should've walked away the first time he cheated. I should've ended this years ago.

"We're done!" I shouted. "Paul Bradley, whatever there was between us ends right now. There's nothing left. Nothing!"

I didn't care how angry the slap made him. I turned around and yanked the door open. The same foul-mouthed assholes I'd heard earlier stood outside, staring at me with their mouths hanging open.

A bitter laugh escaped me. Pathetic. What kind of decent man surrounded himself with people like this?

I walked away and could only laugh at how stupid I'd been for so long. I'd already been forced to drink too much before any of this happened, and the alcohol finally caught up with me all at once.

Somehow, I still had enough sense left to reach the elevator and make it upstairs to the room I'd booked in the same hotel.

As soon as I opened the door, the unmistakable scent of a man's cologne hit me.

My thoughts slowly sharpened through the alcohol clouding my head. Why did Paul get to fool around while I stayed loyal and waited for him like some obedient girlfriend? I was done playing by those rules. Maybe it was finally my turn to do something reckless.

The alcohol made the decision for me. I lunged toward the man, caught his tie in my fist, and pulled him into a kiss.

His lips were warm, and his scent only made my head spin more.

Whatever sense I had left slipped away. My kisses turned bolder as I moved down his neck and over his Adam's apple. Then I reached for his shirt and struggled with the buttons.

The second my fingertips brushed his stomach, his hand closed around my throat and forced me away.

Suddenly, the room flooded with light.

I narrowed my eyes against the brightness. Then I caught sight of the man's face, especially those eyes that looked strangely similar to Paul's, and every trace of drunken confusion vanished.

"Dylan Bradley?" I managed to say.

One look at his handsome face brought back something Paul had complained about only days earlier.

Henry Bradley, Paul's father and the current Godfather of the Bradley family, had assigned someone to tutor him. That person was Dylan Bradley, Paul's half-brother on his father's side, who had returned to Crabert Island only six months ago.

Paul hated having Dylan control him, but even he couldn't deny how effective his ruthless methods were.

"Roselyn, I'm telling you, if Dad hadn't already named me his heir, Dylan would have more people backing him than me in no time." I still remembered how jealous Paul had looked when he said it.

"You're Paul's girlfriend," Dylan remarked, finally breaking the silence.

His cold stare moved over me like a predator judging its prey, and the chill it sent through me brought me fully back to my senses.

"N-no," I stammered, quickly shaking my head. "We broke up."

Dylan narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it.

"I'm serious! It happened just now!" My voice came out weak and hurried. "Paul wanted to put on some kind of show for his friends, so he tricked me into..."

The rest stuck in my throat. Saying it aloud would only make me sound even more pathetic.

My phone rang before I could continue.

Dylan didn't bother asking permission. He reached into my clutch, took out the phone, and saw Paul's name lighting up the screen.

My heart jolted. Dylan's expression immediately darkened.

I barely had time to react before he shoved me hard against the wall. A sharp pain tore through my back, and a cry escaped me.

"You're lying." Dylan seized my chin and made me look at him. "Did that woman send you here? Is this some setup so her precious son can take Crabert Island for himself?"

His stare was so cold and vicious that a venomous snake would've seemed harmless beside him.

"No! Nobody sent me! This really was an accident!" My heart pounded so hard it hurt.

The phone kept ringing. Then Paul's furious voice carried in from the hallway. "Roselyn, you'd better hope I don't find you, because I swear I'll kill you!"

Nothing changed on Dylan's face. "Then go out there and prove it."

Roselyn's POV:

"He'll kill me..." I shook my head and pleaded, "Mr. Bradley, you can't let Paul find me here."

Dylan was acting colder than usual. He clearly didn't care whether I lived or died. Without a word, he reached for the door.

"Don't!" I cried.

Panic left me unable to think. Instinctively, I threw myself against Dylan's chest and begged in a choked whisper, "He'll kill me. He'll let his friends have their way with me. Mr. Bradley, please... You have to save me."

I felt Dylan's body tense. Had some small part of his gentlemanly nature finally kicked in? Was he really going to save me because I looked so helpless?

The lock clicked, and the door swung open.

Shocked, I tried to flee and hide in the room.

Before I could get away, Dylan grabbed the back of my head and pressed my face against his solid chest.

"Dylan?" Paul asked in surprise.

My entire body stiffened. I was terrified that he would see me.

Dylan nodded and asked flatly, "What are you shouting about?"

"My girlfriend," Paul said casually. "We got into a fight, and she stormed off. I thought she might've come back to her room, but it was empty. She won't answer her phone either. Just wait until I find her. I'm going to give her a real piece of my mind."

That was when I realized I'd run into the wrong room.

Remembering how I'd kissed Dylan the second I rushed inside made me cringe with embarrassment. At the same time, what Paul said filled me with dread.

"Whatever," Dylan replied flatly. "Just keep your voice down when you're outside my room."

Behind me, I could feel Paul's suspicious stare boring into my back.

I shut my eyes tight and silently prayed that he wouldn't recognize me.

Paul finally spoke again in a lazy, suggestive tone. "Fine. Enjoy yourself. She's got a pretty nice body, anyway."

Dylan didn't respond. He just guided me back into the room.

The door had barely clicked shut when another voice came from the hallway. It belonged to a woman, and she clearly knew Paul.

"Mr. Bradley?" she said, sounding slightly surprised.

"You? Why aren't you with my mother?" Paul asked.

"She asked me to check on Dylan," the woman answered. "He'd been drinking tonight, and she thought this might be a good chance for me to approach him and win his trust."

"Don't bother. He's already got a woman in there." Paul let out a dirty laugh. "Unless you want to join them. You could always knock and ask if they're up for a threesome."

Their voices grew fainter as they walked away, but cold sweat had already broken out across my forehead.

So it was true. Dylan didn't get along with his stepmother, Evelyn Bradley, the Godmother of the Bradley family. Using that to my advantage would be risky, but it might keep me from owing someone so powerful a debt.

"Mr. Bradley." I gathered the last of my courage, reached up, and kissed the underside of his chin. "Let me stay. I can help you."

Dylan looked down at me and studied me closely with those deep blue eyes.

The deal was so one-sided it was almost a joke.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror beside me and suddenly realized what a mess I was. My hair was tangled, my lipstick was smeared, and one corner of my false eyelash had come loose. No man would want me when I looked this wrecked.

I expected him to mock me and laugh at the nerve I had before throwing me out. Instead, he bent down, lifted me into his arms, and tossed me onto the soft mattress.

His hand wrapped around my throat. The grip wasn't tight enough to choke me, but it was firm enough to keep me in place.

His voice was low and husky as he warned, "Roselyn, lie to me, and I'll toss you into the ocean for the fish to eat."

I trembled as the pressure on my throat stirred a strange excitement inside me. "I wouldn't lie to you..."

"Make sure you don't," he said. His eyes narrowed.

The rest of the night blurred together in a haze of brutal passion. At some point, I passed out.

By the time I woke up again, the spot beside me was cold and empty.

"I can't believe I made it through last night," I muttered to myself as I thought back on what had happened.

Once I could move without every muscle screaming, I took a shower and changed into the fresh clothes waiting at the foot of the bed. I figured Dylan had left them there for me before he went out.

The Bradley family owned the largest estate on Crabert Island. They handled all their business within those walls, including the horrific operations that cost people their lives.

None of that involved me, though. I was only an ordinary assistant who sorted through files and documents that didn't matter.

"Stop! Roselyn, I've spent the entire night looking for you!"

I had only just made it downstairs with the files I'd organized when Paul walked in and shouted at me.

He still had on the same clothes from the night before. His eyes were completely bloodshot, and he stank of stale cigarette smoke.

Somehow, he looked worse than I did. I was the one Dylan had bent over and pounded into the mattress all night.

I looked over his disheveled appearance, and then calmly met his gaze. "What do you want?"

My calm answer only made him angrier. He charged over and stopped just inches from me. "What do I want? You've got some nerve asking me that!"

The slap clearly still had him furious. His pride just wouldn't let him admit it in front of his men.

I scoffed, "I already told you last night, Mr. Bradley. You and I are done."

"I didn't agree to end things!" he shot back.

"I don't need you to agree." I shook my head. "You never loved me in the first place."

There was no doubt that he didn't love me. If he did, he never would've wanted to record us having sex and share the video with his friends.

I'd had enough of the conversation, so I turned to leave.

"You're not leaving until you tell me what's going on!" Paul snapped.

He lunged at me and grabbed my arm. As I struggled against him, his hand snagged the scarf around my neck and pulled it off. The dark, angry love bites on my skin were suddenly exposed.

Paul went still. He stared at my neck before erupting. "You cheated on me! You slept with another man!"

He shouted so loudly that everyone turned to stare at us with nosy curiosity. It was humiliating.

I was suddenly furious. "We'd already broken up, Paul! I can do whatever the hell I want!"

He didn't seem to hear a word I said. His face was tight with rage when he snarled, "Roselyn, I swear, I'll find the bastard who left those marks on you and kill him in front of you!"

Right then, someone appeared at the top of the grand staircase. The murmuring staff immediately fell silent.

It was Dylan. His sharply tailored suit fit him perfectly, and his hair was neatly styled. He stared coldly at Paul.

"Who exactly are you planning to kill?" he asked slowly in a deep voice.

Dylan's POV:

When I glanced down, I saw that Paul had frozen at the sight of me. "Dylan?" he called in surprise.

Roselyn tensed beside him, and her whole body went rigid. She quickly looked away and fumbled with her silk scarf to cover the fresh love bites on her neck. Was she pretending she didn't know me?

I smirked coldly and turned my attention back to Paul. I spoke in a low, hard voice. "Paul Bradley, is this how the Bradley heir should act?"

Paul looked humiliated before he finally bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't forget what the Bradley name stands for. I don't want people gossiping about this kind of behavior again," I said. "Now go back where you belong."

"Understood."

Paul hurried toward his office like a scolded puppy with its tail between its legs.

I couldn't imagine how much liquor my dear father had downed before he decided to name this pathetic fool as his successor.

While I mocked Paul in my head, my gaze accidentally met Roselyn's. She still stood on the floor below and looked at me like I was a complete stranger. Her expression didn't change as she clutched her files, turned, and walked away. What the hell was that about?

"Mr. Bradley," my subordinate said from behind me. "The files you asked for are ready."

"Okay," I replied casually and headed back into my private office.

There was a stack of files on my desk. Every one of them was about Roselyn.

"Her parents were ordinary artisans," my subordinate began. "They died in a car accident seven years ago, so Roselyn and her younger sister were left in their maternal grandmother's care. They had no income and survived on credit cards and government assistance. Roselyn took out a student loan to attend university, but her grandmother died from an illness before she could graduate. Around that same time, her sister was diagnosed with a heart condition. Roselyn dropped out of college and joined the Bradley family staff six months later."

Once he finished, I looked over Roselyn's financial records. She'd owed five million dollars, but the entire debt had been cleared the same year she started working for the family. I seriously doubted the payment was some kind of signing bonus.

I tapped the string of numbers with the tip of my pen. "Who does this account belong to?" I asked.

The man glanced at it and replied, "It belongs to Mr. Paul Bradley."

I narrowed my eyes. That explained why she was so devoted to Paul. He'd paid off every cent of her debt. It was the classic cheesy knight-in-shining-armor rescue.

I tossed the file aside, leaned back in my chair, and thought it over.

Roselyn might've been close to Paul, but she clearly hadn't caught Evelyn's attention. Then again, an ordinary woman like Roselyn might've simply been beneath Evelyn's notice. So had it really been an accident when Roselyn barged into my room last night?

"Mr. Bradley? Is something wrong?" my subordinate couldn't help asking.

My silence had made him nervous.

"What did Evelyn do yesterday?" I asked.

"She..." He hesitated. "She suggested to your father that it was time to find you a suitable match."

My voice was full of sarcasm. "She just can't stay out of other people's business."

If Roselyn hadn't ended up in my bed last night, Evelyn probably would've staged a scene and had me caught in a compromising position with her assistant. Then she would've pressured my father into forcing me to marry the woman so she could place a spy right by my side.

Evelyn never could've expected her carefully planned scheme to be ruined by her own son's girlfriend.

But after the way Roselyn had just treated me, this should be the end of it.

That thought lifted my mood a little, so I turned my attention to the next issue.

"How's that other job I assigned you coming along?" I asked.

My subordinate sounded hesitant. "Black Rose turned us down. She isn't accepting any new commissions right now. Mr. Bradley, maybe we should look for another jewelry designer. I'm sure someone else could..."

"No. Black Rose is the best," I cut him off sharply. "Don't forget that the Lloyd family deal depends on a family crest carved from a red diamond. I won't let some third-rate designer ruin my chances of acquiring that island. Do you understand?"

"But..." he began.

"Raise the offer," I said before he could finish. "Whatever she wants, give it to her."

"Understood," he replied.

Once he left, I frowned and took Black Rose's file out of my drawer. The only useful thing it revealed was that the designer was a woman.

Black Rose was the world's top jewelry designer. Her pieces were incredibly rare and sold for astronomical prices at auction. Some were even kept in royal collections. Every major family dreamed of owning something with her signature.

The Black Rose name stood for rarity and perfection.

That was exactly why I needed her. She was the only designer who could guarantee that the deal went through.

I was considering whether I'd have to use more forceful methods to secure Black Rose when the subordinate who'd just left burst back into the room.

"Mr. Bradley!" he said excitedly. "She accepted!"

For a moment, I thought I'd heard him wrong. "What was that?"

"Black Rose accepted our commission! She wants to meet with you in person as soon as possible," he replied immediately.

"How much does she want?" I asked.

I was sure she must've asked for a fortune. Otherwise, she wouldn't have agreed so easily this time.

"Ten million. She wants us to wire five million into her account as a deposit," he said.

"Transfer the five million," I instructed. "I'll meet her in person."

That wasn't how we normally handled things, but this was Black Rose. A good relationship with her could give us a major advantage later.

My subordinate didn't ask any more questions after he heard my order. He rushed out to make the arrangements.

Later that afternoon, I got into the waiting car and headed for the meeting place.

It turned out to be a simple coffee shop.

I stayed in the car and watched Table 42 through the window.

My assistant had reserved that table. Black Rose had already received the reservation number.

All I had to do was wait until a woman came alone and sat at the table. Then I could begin the exchange for the red diamond. The gem was the size of a soccer ball and so valuable that it could buy a small country.

Time passed. I kept an eye on the street, but no one who might be Black Rose showed up. Was she playing me?

"Mr. Bradley." My subordinate's voice sounded urgent. "We got a message from your assistant, Noah. Tom Bennett has rallied what's left of the Bennett family. They're attacking our headquarters!"

My expression hardened. "The Bennett family? The ones who tried to get the police to seize our port?"

If I remembered correctly, I'd personally ordered all their businesses destroyed and their shipping routes cut off. The Bennetts had gone bankrupt and disappeared six months earlier.

"That's right." He watched my expression and asked cautiously, "Should we head over there?"

I cursed silently. Those useless idiots couldn't even handle something this simple!

I frowned and ordered in a cold voice, "Wire Black Rose another five million from my account. Tell her we'll have to set a new time for the meeting."