My Brother Gambled Away Our Home To A Monster — Then The Most Dangerous Man In London Stepped In

Part 1

Sweat pulled at the base of my spine, trapped beneath layers of unforgiving bombazine as heat radiated from the hundreds of beeswax candles suspended above our heads.

The ballroom did not smell of refined wealth tonight; it smelled of stale lavender water, sour wine, and the sharp tang of too many bodies crammed into a small space.

I kept my spine rigid against the velvet flocking of the wall, pressing myself deep into the shadows to avoid the dowagers gossiping nearby.

My jaw physically ached from clenching it, but survival was a matter of pure, unadulterated focus.

I was desperately scanning the swirling silks and polished brass buttons to find Brian.

If he found me here in public, the ruin of my entire family would be absolute and immediate.

The promissory notes he currently held weren’t just simple debts; they were the executioner’s axe hovering directly over my foolish brother Craig’s neck.

Brian wanted the estate, and he wanted the public humiliation of seeing my family destroyed.

Suddenly, a heavy shoulder bumped violently into mine, jarring my teeth together.

I whipped my head around, finding myself face to face with Dan, the notorious Duke.

He certainly didn’t look like a duke, smelling instead of damp wool, rain-slicked stones, and dark earth.

His face was a harsh landscape of sharp angles featuring a jagged scar cutting through the dark stubble on his jawline.

He was looking down at me, his pale eyes entirely devoid of the polite warmth expected in this society.

He leaned against the wall right beside me, invading my small pocket of manufactured safety with the immense heat radiating off his massive frame.

He told me I looked as though I was waiting for a firing squad, keeping his intense gaze fixed entirely on the churning mass of dancers.

I shot back that he looked ready to volunteer for one.

He had spent years abroad, returning only when his elder brother tragically broke his neck in a hunting accident.

Looking at the pulse ticking hard at the base of his throat, I entirely believed the violent rumors about him.

He suddenly asked if I was hiding from someone, noting that my breathing had changed to ragged gasps.

Panic flared hot and bright in my chest as I looked toward the archway leading to the card rooms.

There he was, Brian, smiling a thin, reptilian stretching of lips as his predatory eyes dissected the crowded room.

Nausea surged thick and sour in the back of my throat, forcing my legs to push away from the wall and dive into the crowd.

I moved with stiff grace, dodging trays of champagne while a stray elbow caught my ribs sharply.

If he cornered me here, my father would be dragged to debtor’s prison before the week was out.

I desperately headed for the heavy oak doors that led to the quiet library corridor, hoping to slip out unseen.

Then Brian’s voice cut through the music, calling my name sharp and wet.

I slipped through the doors into the cooler corridor, pressing my back against the wood as my heart hammered against my ribs.

Heavy footsteps echoed on the marble floor from the other side, and the brass handle began to turn slowly.

I lunged down the endless hallway, trapped between locked doors and towering windows draped in bruised purple velvet.

Brian stepped into the corridor, oozing false sympathy as he backed me against the wall with terrifying speed.

He demanded his assurances tonight, or he would walk back into that ballroom and announce our ruin to every peer in London.

I tasted copper as I begged him for one more day, his thick, clammy fingers hovering mere inches from my chin.

Finally, a shadow detached itself from the alcove near the end of the hall.

Dan moved in total silence, grabbing Brian by the back of his immaculately tailored collar with a brutal, effortless yank.

He threw the older man backward onto the marble floor with a sickening crack of bone hitting stone.

Dan ordered him to leave in a low, vibrating hum of pure violence, and Brian scrambled away in sheer terror.

Footsteps sounded from the other end of the hall, threatening a scandal that would finish the job Brian started.

Dan clamped his calloused hand firmly over my forearm and yanked me backward behind the massive velvet curtains.

I was crushed against his rigid chest in the pitch-black alcove as he whispered that I was his to protect.

When the approaching men finally passed, I shoved past him back into the empty corridor, my movements completely devoid of grace.

I furiously told him never to say something like that to me again, refusing his aristocratic pity.

He stated clinically that Brian would retaliate, and I admitted Brian would ruin us tomorrow.

He directed me to his unmarked carriage waiting in the dark mews, saving my thin satin slippers from the freezing rain.

I climbed into the pitch-black interior, gripping the freezing leather seat as we lurched over the cobblestones.

Dan looked at me in the dark of the carriage and told me that tomorrow morning, Brian’s men would come to break down my door.