He Broke My Heart, My Family Broke His Empire Chapter 12

He Broke My Heart, My Family Broke His Empire Chapter 12

Julian dropped to the ground, a cry of pain torn from his throat. An explosion of agony radiated from his knee, and his face went deathly pale.

He was about to curse when he saw a tall figure sitting in the shadows of the living room, still and silent as a predator.

It was Wyatt, my brother.

His face was a blank mask, but his eyes were as cold as the blizzard piling up outside the window.

…

When I woke up, I was in a private room at Massachusetts General Hospital. It was three days after Thanksgiving.

My brother Wyatt was at my bedside. His eyes were bloodshot, a dark stubble shadowing his jaw.

I opened my mouth, my throat raw and burned. My voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

“Wyatt, I’m sorry.”

“I made you fly all this way. I ruined your Thanksgiving.”

Wyatt reached out and gently stroked my hair. His eyes instantly reddened.

“Silly girl,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “As long as I found you, this was the best Thanksgiving of my life.”

When I had insisted on marrying Julian, I’d turned the whole family upside down. Wyatt, who had always spoiled me rotten, had been the first to object.

But I had stolen my passport and flown to this cold city with Julian anyway.

“Oh, right.” He suddenly smiled, a flash of Texas ruthlessness in his eyes. “I taught Julian a little lesson for you. Want to see the video?”