Page 40 of The Russian's Forced Bride
“Hey, sis.” He grinned cheekily at me, stretching out his hands that held onto a leather bag.
He wriggled his brows playfully at me with a laugh before he made his way over and took the seat across from me, dumping the leather bag onto my desk.
I eyed the bag curiously. “What’s that?”
“Your lunch,” he replied, shifting it closer to me.
My brows rose tentatively as I reached out to grab the leather bag, tearing it open like a kid unveiling a Christmas present. I pulled open the lid of the container, suspicious that he was just playing me, but then the aroma of garlic—along with the heat from the plate—was enough for me to know he was serious.
A glint of joy and warmth brightened my eyes as the lid came off, revealing the mac and cheese that filled the plate.
My stomach growled immediately as I grabbed the fork, shoved the food into my mouth, and moaned at the flavors bursting inside.
I peeked at Brandon, who simply watched me with a cocky smirk.
“I know, I know. I’m a good cook,” he boasted.
I nodded in agreement. I hadn’t eaten food as good as this in weeks. We still hadn’t hired any cooks since Rafael was literally suspicious of everyone. So, if I wasn’t ordering takeout, I was cooking—and we all knew my cooking wasn’t exactly the best.
Once I finished eating, I carefully dabbed my lips with my napkin, then packed up the empty package.
“You really are good, Brandon. I think I’m gonna hire you as a cook,” I teased him, and he snorted in reply.
“What?” I asked. “You’d be paid really well.”
“Hell no. The last time I checked, your husband’s a possessive freak. If it weren’t for the money, I would’ve asked you to divorce him,” Brandon claimed, and my laughter rang out, bouncing off the corners of my office.
Well, Rafaelcouldbe possessive—but I mean, that was because he wanted me to be safe. Or maybe I was just being delusional. Either way, it was good that Brandon didn’t know the full truth of my situation. Hell, not even Jacob knew everything.
Even sitting at the CEO’s desk, I still lacked full authority over Father’s companies.
I reached out to Brandon, taking his olive-toned hand into mine and squeezing gently.
“Rafael isn’t a bad husband. And one of these days, I’ll make sure you two meet and know just how wrong your perspectives of each other are.”
Brandon rolled his eyes. “Heard a lot of sketchy stuff about that guy. Trust me, sis, I honestly don’t want to get to know him.”
I shrugged in response. It was fair enough—and besides, Rafael had this crazy look in his eyes when I mentioned Brandon was my half-brother. And knowing Rafael, he probably did a background check on the poor kid.
Aside from that, though, I wondered if Alice or Jacob knew about Brandon. Surely, he would’ve revealed himself to them.
My eyes returned to Brandon, who was now busy on his phone, and when he saw me looking, he quickly glanced away.
“What?” he asked, an inquisitive brow raised.
“Well, don’t you want to meet Dad’s wife, Alice? And we have an adopted brother, too, but he’s all the way in New Jersey. Though if you want, I can fly us over to go see him.”
Brandon’s features twisted in confusion before something seemed to click in his head.
“They’re not really family, Ari,” he said, placing his phone down. “We’re the only ones that have the Whitmore blood in us. They’re just accessories.”
Accessories.
I frowned slightly. I didn’t exactly see Jacob as just an accessory. He was there for me when Dad wasn’t, and even if he sometimes felt like an outsider, his presence in my life made it worth fighting for.
Hell, one of the main reasons I agreed to marry Rafael was because I wanted to keep my only remaining family safe—and that even included Alice, who hardly ever acknowledged my presence.
“They’re not accessories to me, Brandon. And if you knew Jacob, I bet you’d love him way more.” I laughed.
