Page 1 of His Brother's Wife
HIS BROTHER’S WIFE
Not for the first time, Amalia Rai gazed in the mirror and wondered how the hell she had gotten here.This is the twenty-first century, right?And, yet, she, a successful classical pianist and music professor, was about to be married to a man she barely knew—and who she could barely stand.
Amalia closed her eyes. She could hardly stand to look at the sadness in her own eyes. At twenty-seven, she had accomplished so much and had thought herself free of her controlling father and all the bullshit that went on in their family. If it hadn’t been for her desperation to save her little sister’s life, she would never have agreed to this.
But her father held all the cards. He would not allow Selima to divorce her abusive husband unless Amalia agreed to marry Jackson Gallo—her father’s rival in business and the man who had nearly brought her father to his knees. When Gallo offered Gajendra Rai a lifeline—give him his eldest daughter in marriage, and he’ll give Gajendra a multimillion dollar cash –injection—Gajendra had not hesitated in going to Amalia and demanding she marry Jackson.
Amalia had turned him down flat. That she and her father were not close was an understatement. For months, she had held out, until the day Selima had called her from the emergency room of the hospital. Her husband had beaten her so badly that she could barely speak, but just sob over the phone to her sister. Amalia went to her and was horrified by her injuries and by what she had been through. Gajendra, though, refused to let Selima divorce her husband …unless Amalia married Jackson.
Desperate, Amalia agreed, and now, in a few minutes, she would take her father’s arm and walk down the aisle in the church Jackson’s family had built in their luxurious compound on the outskirts of San Francisco.A prison, not a compound, thought Amalia as she straightened the wedding dress that had cost seven times her salary. Her father had paid, of course, and although Amalia would have preferred to marry in the traditional Indian attire befitting her heritage, her father insisted that a white dress would be more suitable for the society pages.
Amalia shrugged to herself now. What did it matter? This wasn’t a real wedding and it wouldn’t be a real marriage. She had made it clear to Jackson that under no circumstances would the marriage be consummated. Jackson had laughed, and she knew he thought she was joking. He would find out tonight that she was deadly serious.
Jackson Gallo was handsome in a bland, preppy way. The youngest son of billionaire property magnate Macaulay Gallo, Jackson was often to be found in the pages of gossip magazines, romancing some of the world’s most beautiful women. When he had laid eyes on Amalia at a benefit gala where she was performing, he’d pursued her relentlessly until Amalia had grown frightened of his vehemence. She had finally thought he’d gotten the message she wasn’t interested when the call from her father came. Jackson had been victorious when Ama had agreed to marry him, but for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why he would settle on her. Yes, she was a renowned pianist and a very successful professor of music atThe San Francisco Conservatory of Music. Yes, she knew she was considered a beautiful woman, with her creamy coffee-and-pink skin, bright green eyes, long, wavy, dark hair, and curvaceous body, but to society and Jackson’s world, she was completely indifferent.
A knock came at the door and her sister, dressed in a simple lilac silk sheath, came in and smiled at her. “Hey, sis … are you nearly ready? Dad’s hovering outside.”
Ama smiled at her. “Almost.” She sighed and stood. Selima came up to her and studied her.
“It’s not too late, you know. We can skip out of here and escape somewhere hot.”
Ama laughed sadly. “And live on what, Lima?”
Selima shrugged, but her eyes were sad. “I hate that you’re doing this for me.”
Ama hugged her sister. “I swear, knowing that you’ll be free of that bastard is the only good thing about this.”
Selima nodded. “Thank you, Ama. I mean it. And look, the prenup says …”
“I’m trapped for two years.” Ama tried to make a joke of it. “Trapped, but living in luxury. How many women would kill to be me right now?”
Selima’s nose wrinkled. “With that creep?” Selima had as much of a low opinion of Jackson as Amalia did. Her smile brightened. “Olivier, on the other hand …”
Olivier Gallo was Jackson’s older brother, and Ama had grown very fond of him. He was in his early forties and a workaholic, but kind and quiet. He was the only one in the family who didn’t stand for Jackson’s arrogance or posturing, and there were many times when he’d met Amalia’s gaze over the family dinner table and rolled his eyes at what Jackson was bloviating about on that particular night.
And yes, Olivier was gorgeous and tall, with dark hair and brown eyes, but there was sadness in him that Amalia didn’t understand. Macaulay had once told Amalia that Olivier had been particularly close to his mother, who had died giving birth to Jackson, who was thirteen years younger than Olivier. Amalia was curious about that, and about the fact that Olivier seemed to have no time for anything else, but work in his life.
Selima had a huge crush on the older Gallo brother. She grinned at Amalia now. “I bagged the seat next to him, too. Hey, isn’t today when we all meet the black sheep?”
Amalia nodded. Enda Gallo was the middle brother …well, middlehalf-brother, the result of an extramarital affair Macaulay had had with an Italian actress. Amalia had never met him, but knew he kept to himself, mostly living in Italy. Since Enda had been ignored by his father for the first thirty years of his life, it was only because Olivier had reached out to him seven years ago that Enda had finally been brought into the family fold and had reconciled with his father. Jackson couldn’t stand him, always referring to him as ‘the bastard’ and badmouthing him. Amalia, having never met Enda Gallo, was already disposed to liking him because Jackson hated him so much.
The clock struck noon and Amalia sighed. “Let’s get this thing over with.”
Gajendra laid his daughter’s arm over his and smiled at her. “You make me very proud today, Amalia.”
Amalia didn’t reply, keeping her expression blank as they walked down the long aisle of the church. At the altar, she could see Jackson waiting, a supercilious smile on his face. Olivier, his best man, smiled at her and winked. Amalia gave a little sigh. If she could just hang out and be friends with Olivier, then maybe she would get through this. There were hundreds of people there, most of whom she didn’t know. Some of her friends from the conservatory sat on the left-hand side of the church. Christina, her best friend, a no-nonsense Korean cellist, made a face at her and Amalia tried not to laugh. Christina was the only one of her friends who knew the real reason behind this marriage. Amalia had told her she wasn’t going to ask her to be maid of honor, “because I want to save you for myrealwedding someday.”
Christina had grinned and toasted her. “Hell, yes. Let’s drink to that.”
God, thought Amalia. Their nights out drinking seemed so far away now. Would Jackson stop her from enjoying her freedom? Probably.
Amalia was nearly at the altar now, and she saw Macaulay Gallo smiling at her. Despite his weaknesses, she liked the old man …he just had no idea how to raise children and had left all the responsibility of the Gallo estate to Olivier. Amalia smiled back at him now. She could have worse as a father-in-law.
Then her eyes met the man standing next to Macaulay and her breath caught in her throat. Tall, athletic, with dark curls messy around his head, he glowered at her, his bright green eyes intensely fierce. His face was set grimly and he looked like the most dangerous man she’d ever seen.
And the most devastatingly handsome …
Amalia stumbled a little and her father steadied her. The man, who she guessedhadto be Enda Gallo, stared at her.He hates me …he hates me …she thought, her heart sinking. There was no mistaking the man’s expression. Loathing. He looked like he wanted to kill her …
