Marrying My Ex's Billionaire Brother

Eleanor Vance stared at the silver dial of her wristwatch. The second hand ticked past the twelve. It was exactly noon.

Her reservation at New York City Hall had officially expired.

She stood in the center of the grand lobby. All around her, couples in white dresses and sharp suits were laughing, kissing, and holding up their marriage certificates for photos. The joyous noise bounced off the marble walls.

A sharp ache squeezed the center of Eleanor's chest. Her throat tightened so fast it was hard to pull air into her lungs. She was standing here completely alone.

She took a deep breath, forcing the panic down into her stomach. Her fingers shook as she unlocked her phone and dialed Caleb's number for the twelfth time.

She pressed the phone to her ear. The line rang three times before the cold, automated voice of his voicemail kicked in.

Eleanor gripped the bouquet of baby's breath in her left hand. She squeezed the stems so hard they snapped. The sharp edges of the broken branches dug into her palm. The slight sting kept her grounded.

Suddenly, the phone in her hand vibrated.

Eleanor gasped and looked at the screen. It wasn't Caleb. It was Chloe, her best friend.

She swiped to answer. "Chloe?"

"Eleanor, are you okay? Did that bastard Caleb not show up? Don't panic, just listen to me," Chloe said. Her voice was tight, vibrating with suppressed anger. "Open Instagram right now and look at Isla's latest update. You'll understand everything."

"What? Why?" Eleanor's fingertips turned cold.

"Just look at it!" Chloe snapped.

Eleanor pulled the phone away from her ear, her thumb trembled as she tapped the Instagram icon. The loading circle spun for a second. The delay made her stomach drop.

Isla's profile picture popped up at the top of the screen. Eleanor tapped it.

A video started playing immediately. A deafening blast of electronic bass music poured out of Eleanor's phone speaker. The sudden noise shattered the quiet of the hallway. A few people turned to stare at her.

The video showed the inside of a VIP booth at a high-end Manhattan club. The lighting was dark red and purple. A massive champagne tower caught the strobe lights.

Eleanor's pupils dilated. The air left her lungs.

Right in the center of the frame, wearing a custom-tailored suit, was Caleb. The man who was supposed to be marrying her right now was pushing a massive, five-tier birthday cake across the room.

Isla stepped into the frame. She was wearing a sparkling diamond tiara. She giggled, leaned close to Caleb, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Caleb didn't pull away. Instead, he smiled and reached out to pat Isla's hair with absolute adoration.

Text flashed across the bottom of the video: Thank you, brother, for the best birthday present! I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you all to myself today.

The words hit Eleanor like a physical blow to the stomach.

A loud ringing started in her ears. Memories from the past three years rushed into her brain. Caleb canceling dinner because Isla had a headache. Caleb leaving their anniversary trip early because Isla felt lonely.

Her psychological defenses collapsed entirely.

"Miss?" A City Hall employee walked up to her, looking concerned. "Do you need to reschedule your appointment?"

Eleanor looked at the woman. A bitter, pale smile stretched across her face. She shook her head.

The crushing sadness drained out of her body in a matter of seconds. In its place, a hot, violent wave of pure anger flooded her veins. She had been played for an absolute fool.

She turned and walked toward the nearest trash can. She threw the broken bouquet of baby's breath inside without a second glance.

Eleanor turned toward the main doors of City Hall. Her first steps were stiff, but as she walked, her pace quickened. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor.

She pushed her weight against the heavy glass doors. The cold early autumn wind of New York hit her face. It instantly dried the slight moisture in her eyes.

She walked straight to the curb and threw her hand up. A yellow taxi pulled over. Eleanor yanked the back door open and slid onto the worn leather seat.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

"Apex Club," Eleanor said. Her voice was as cold as ice. "Downtown."

The taxi merged into traffic. The city streets blurred past the window. Eleanor reached up and pulled the white silk ribbon out of her hair-the ribbon she had worn to look like a bride. She dropped it onto the floorboard.

She unlocked her phone again. She hit the screen record button and saved Isla's video. She needed the hard proof.

Then, she opened her text thread with Caleb. She stared at the message he had sent her at eight o'clock this morning: Emergency at the company. Wait for me.

A dark, mocking laugh escaped her lips.

The taxi slammed on its brakes. Eleanor lurched forward slightly. They were parked in front of the flashing neon sign of Apex. The harsh purple light stung her eyes.

Eleanor pulled a crisp hundred-dollar bill from her purse and threw it onto the center console. She didn't wait for change. She pushed the door open and stepped out onto the pavement.

Two massive bouncers in black suits immediately stepped in front of the velvet rope. They looked down at her with blank expressions.

"VIP membership card, please," the taller one demanded.

Eleanor didn't step back. She tilted her chin up and stared directly into the bouncer's eyes. "I am Caleb Blackwood's fiancée. He is inside."

The bouncer hesitated. The sheer authority and freezing anger in her eyes made him pause. He exchanged a look with his partner. The second bouncer pressed a finger to his earpiece and muttered something into his radio.

A few seconds later, he nodded. "Mr. Blackwood is in the second-floor VIP lounge."

They unhooked the velvet rope. Eleanor stepped past them. Her high heels hit the floor hard as she walked into the main hall. The smell of cheap vodka, expensive perfume, and sweat hit her nose. The bass of the music vibrated in her chest.

She ignored the mass of bodies grinding on the dance floor. She kept her eyes locked on the spiral staircase leading to the VIP section.

She climbed the stairs quickly. At the end of the second-floor hallway stood a heavy door with gold trim. She could hear the muffled sound of laughter coming from inside.

Eleanor stopped in front of the door. She took one deep breath, filling her lungs with stale air. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around the cold metal handle.

Eleanor shoved the heavy door forward with all her body weight.

The door slammed against the wall with a loud thud, the sound instantly cut through the cheering inside the room. The music was still playing, but the people froze.

The air in the booth was thick with cigar smoke and the sweet smell of alcohol. Eleanor's eyes scanned the room and locked onto the center leather sofa.

Caleb was sitting there. He held a crystal flute of champagne in his right hand. He had his head turned, listening to Isla say something. When he saw Eleanor standing in the doorway, the smile wiped off his face completely.

Isla followed his gaze. For a split second, a look of pure, triumphant malice flashed in Isla's eyes. Then, she gasped, widened her eyes in fake terror, and shrank back against Caleb's chest.

Jax Porter, one of Caleb's wealthy friends, leaned back and whistled loudly. "Well, well. Looks like the bride walked onto the wrong movie set."

A few people in the room snickered.

Eleanor ignored them. She stepped over the confetti scattered on the floor. She walked straight toward Caleb, stopping only when her knees were inches from the coffee table. She looked down at him.

Caleb set his champagne glass down. He stood up and reached out to grab her hand. His eyebrows pulled together in annoyance. He lowered his voice. "What are you doing here? I told you to wait for me."

Eleanor felt a wave of nausea. She twisted her torso, dodging his hand completely. She looked at the massive five-tier cake sitting on the table. Her eyes were sharp and cold.

"Wait for you?" Eleanor let out a harsh laugh. "Wait for you to handle the 'company emergency'? Or wait for you to finish cutting your sister's cake?"

Caleb's jaw tightened. The public exposure of his lie made a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. But the embarrassment quickly turned into defensive anger. He raised his voice. "It's Isla's birthday. Her health is fragile, she can't be upset today. We can go to City Hall any other day!"

Isla immediately let her eyes fill with tears. She grabbed the sleeve of Caleb's jacket. Her voice trembled. "Brother, it's all my fault. I shouldn't even be here. Please, just go back with Eleanor."

The pathetic tone worked instantly. Caleb's protective instincts flared. He stepped sideways, shielding Isla behind his body. He glared at Eleanor. "Are you done throwing a tantrum? Did you really have to come here and humiliate her on her birthday?"

Eleanor stared at the man in front of her. He genuinely believed his blatant favoritism was completely justified. The very last drop of affection she held for him evaporated from her blood.

She lifted her left hand. Her face was completely blank. She grabbed the diamond engagement ring on her ring finger and pulled. The sharp edge of the diamond scraped against her knuckle, leaving a red mark, but she didn't feel it.

Eleanor raised her arm and threw the ring as hard as she could.

The heavy diamond hit the very top of the expensive cake. White frosting exploded outward, splattering across the table. The perfect sugar decorations collapsed into a messy crater.

"Are you insane? !" Caleb yelled. He stared at the ruined cake, his eyes wide with shock. He took a step forward, raising his hands as if to stop her from doing anything else.

Eleanor took one step back. She didn't yell, but her voice was steady and loud enough to echo off the walls. "Caleb Blackwood, we are done. The engagement is off."

Dead silence fell over the VIP booth. No one moved. No one breathed. Eleanor had always been quiet and compliant. None of them could believe she just dumped the heir to the Blackwood family in front of an audience.

Caleb blinked. Then, a cold, arrogant smirk formed on his lips. He was completely convinced this was just a dramatic ploy for attention. "Eleanor, don't do something you'll regret. If you walk out that door today, don't even think about coming back to beg me."

Eleanor didn't even give him the dignity of a second glance. She turned on her heel and walked away. Her spine was perfectly straight.

Behind her, Isla called out in a fake, crying voice, "Sister, don't go!" Caleb immediately shushed Isla, comforting her. The sound of his gentle tone made Eleanor's stomach churn with disgust.

Eleanor walked out of the booth and pulled the door shut behind her.

The moment the latch clicked, the adrenaline left her muscles. Her knees went weak. She leaned her shoulder against the smooth, polished wall of the hallway and sucked in a deep breath of air. She could feel the heavy bass of the music vibrating through the plaster.

A single tear slipped down her cheek. She wasn't crying because she missed him. She was crying because she had wasted three years of her youth on a dog.

She wiped the tear away aggressively with the back of her hand. She forced herself to stand up straight and started walking down the long hallway toward the exit.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated violently inside her purse.

She pulled it out. The screen lit up with an unknown number.

Eleanor hit the ignore button. But a second later, the phone started ringing again. The immediate callback felt aggressive.

She swiped the green button and brought the phone to her ear. She was still congested from crying. "Who is this?" she snapped.

The voice on the other end was deep, magnetic, and heavy with authority. The background noise on the call was completely silent. "I had a feeling Caleb would disappoint you again today. My security team at Apex just informed me there was a disturbance involving you and a ruined cake."

Eleanor stopped walking. Her heart slammed against her ribs. She recognized that voice instantly. It was Julian Blackwood. Caleb's older brother. The actual CEO and ruthless dictator of the Blackwood empire.

Her fingers tightened around the phone. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the dark corners of the hallway, suddenly feeling like a predator was watching her from the shadows.

Eleanor pressed her back against the wall of the hallway. She forced her breathing to slow down. "Julian? What do you want? Are you calling to laugh at me?"

She heard the sharp, metallic clink of a Zippo lighter opening and closing on the other end of the line. Julian's voice was terrifyingly calm. "No. I am calling to offer you the perfect way to retaliate."

Eleanor frowned. Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "Retaliate? You are his flesh and blood."

A low, dark chuckle vibrated through the phone speaker. It sounded entirely dismissive. "That is a biological fact, it doesn't mean I tolerate his stupidity. Bring your ID. Meet me at the south entrance of City Hall."

The words "City Hall" made Eleanor's heart skip a beat. A wild, insane thought flashed through her brain. Her throat went dry, and she swallowed hard.

"What... what do you mean?" Her voice shook. She was terrified to say her guess out loud.

Julian's tone shifted. It became low, smooth, and incredibly persuasive. "Since you planned on getting married today anyway, you might as well just change the groom. Become his sister-in-law. From now on, every time he sees you, he will have to bow his head and greet you with respect. Doesn't that sound appealing?"

The proposition was like a contract handed over by the devil himself. It struck a match directly into the pool of anger sitting in Eleanor's chest. The mental image of Caleb being forced to call her 'sister-in-law' sent a rush of heat to her brain.

She closed her eyes. The image of Caleb shielding Isla flashed behind her eyelids. She opened her eyes, and the hesitation was gone. "Fine. I'll be right there."

Eleanor hung up the phone. She walked out of the club, her heels hitting the concrete fast and hard. The cold wind hit her face again, but she didn't look back at the neon sign.

She flagged down another taxi. She told the driver to get back to City Hall as fast as legally possible.

Twenty minutes later, the taxi pulled up to the south entrance. Eleanor pushed the door open. The first thing she saw was a massive, pitch-black Rolls-Royce Phantom parked illegally at the curb.

The rear door opened. Julian Blackwood stepped out onto the pavement. He was wearing a pure black bespoke suit. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and his presence was so heavy it felt like the air pressure around him dropped.

Julian walked up to her. His dark, intense eyes scanned her face. He noticed her messy hair and the slight redness around her eyes. A tiny muscle in his jaw twitched.

He didn't say a word. He simply raised his hand. His rough thumb brushed against the corner of her eye, wiping away a smudge of ruined makeup. His touch was shockingly gentle.

The heat of his skin burned her cheek. Eleanor flinched and instinctively tried to step back.

Julian's other hand shot out and wrapped around her waist, holding her in place.

"If you want to back out, now is the time," Julian said. He looked down at her. His voice was low, but his grip on her waist left no room for escape.

Eleanor looked up into his dark eyes. She clenched her jaw. She reached into her purse and pulled out her ID card. "I never regret my decisions."

The corner of Julian's mouth lifted into a satisfied smirk. He kept his hand on her waist and turned her toward the building. They bypassed the main doors and walked toward a side entrance.

Because of Julian's name, they didn't wait in any lines. They were escorted directly into a private, quiet registration room.

The city clerk looked terrified of the Wall Street billionaire standing in her office. Her hands shook as she quickly printed out the marriage documents and laid them on the desk.

Eleanor stared at the paper. The name Julian Blackwood was printed in bold black ink. Her fingers trembled. The entire situation felt like a hallucination.

Julian picked up the heavy fountain pen. He didn't hesitate for a single second. He signed his name with sharp, aggressive strokes. Then, he turned and held the pen out to her.

Eleanor took the pen. The metal was still warm from his hand. She pressed the nib to the paper. The memory of her three years of suffering flashed through her mind one last time. She pressed down hard and signed Eleanor Vance.

The clerk stamped the paper. The heavy thud of the seal echoed in the small room. Legally, they were now husband and wife.

The moment she was handed the certificate, Eleanor felt like she was floating. Her feet didn't feel connected to the floor.

Julian handed both certificates to his assistant, Leo, who was standing quietly in the corner. Then, Julian turned to look at Eleanor.

His eyes had changed. The cold, calculating look was gone. It was replaced by something dark, possessive, and deeply predatory.

"Mrs. Blackwood," he said, intentionally emphasizing the title. His voice was raspy. "Welcome to my world."

He suddenly stepped into her space and lowered his head. He pressed his lips firmly against her forehead. It was a restrained kiss, but it claimed absolute ownership. Eleanor froze completely, her brain short-circuiting as the scent of cedarwood and mint washed over her.