Chapter 4 What Exactly Is Mr. Brooks's Name

Andrew's eyes landed on Cathryn's scrawled signature, and a look of mild distaste flashed across his face.

"I want nobody to know about our relationship," Andrew said, his tone cold and blunt.

"Got it. A secret marriage," Cathryn replied right away. She was just as eager to keep things hidden. After all, the life span of this marriage was merely one year.

Andrew lifted his gaze. "Any questions?"

"Where am I supposed to stay?" she asked, holding his stare.

Andrew lifted an eyebrow. Bold of her. Already planning to stay the night. "Gavin," he called out.

A man with graying hair, likely in his fifties, appeared from the shadows. He was the butler who managed the house-Gavin Miller.

Andrew pointed at Cathryn and said, "She will be the mistress of this residence starting today."

"Of course, Mr. Brooks. This way, ma'am," Gavin said, treating Cathryn with courtesy.

Unease twisted inside Cathryn. She couldn't shake off the feeling that she was occupying a place meant for someone else. This man seemed to have planned to marry another woman. Still, things had gone too far to turn back now. And her mother's death demanded revenge.

"Do you find this room to your liking, ma'am?" Gavin asked as he pushed a room door open.

The bedroom looked extravagant, its walls adorned with paintings. It could have passed off as a museum.

A genuine smile tugged at Cathryn's lips. "It's hard to believe these aren't the real thing. Mr. Brooks must have gone all out to put this collection together."

Gavin's mouth twitched ever so slightly. For Andrew to hang knock-offs? The very idea was too ridiculous. Every painting here belonged to the original artist, and each canvas could buy a small island. Still, he held his tongue. Decades of loyalty had taught him that silence and discretion were sometimes the highest duty.

A thought suddenly struck Cathryn. "What exactly is Mr. Brooks's name?"

"Wouldn't it be better to ask him directly?" Gavin answered with a measured smile.

She lifted her eyebrows. Tight-lipped indeed.

Gavin offered her a nod before slipping quietly from the room.

Left to herself, Cathryn's gaze landed on a laptop resting on the desk. She powered it on and dove straight into a search about the Brooks family.

The articles told her the patriarch, Jonny Brooks, had once worn a soldier's uniform before carving an empire in business. He had fathered two sons.

The elder, Jorge Brooks, had collapsed years ago from a brain hemorrhage and now lay in Olekgan Hospital, caught in the prison of a vegetative state.

The younger, Jaycob Brooks, had rebelled against his father long ago and been cast out of the country, barred from ever setting foot on their soil again.

Jorge had children of his own. His first son, Andrew Brooks, born to his first wife, now led Brooks Group as its CEO.

Whispers claimed a brutal car crash overseas had scarred Andrew's face beyond recognition and left him crippled.

Jorge's second son, Nick Brooks, was still in his teens, the child of Jorge's second wife, pursuing his studies abroad.

Scrolling past headlines and online rumors, Cathryn pieced together the Brooks family's dynamics, each detail painting a clearer, more complicated picture. If Andrew had truly been scarred and left crippled, then the man she was about to wed couldn't possibly be him. Nick was nothing more than a teenager, only sixteen. It wasn't him, either. So only two options made sense. Either her soon-to-be husband was a relative lurking on the edge of the Brooks family tree, or he was Jorge's hidden child.

Cathryn leaned into the chair, pleased with her deduction. Having someone like her future husband-important enough to open doors but not significant enough to draw the world's attention-suited her just fine.

Today felt like a lifetime crammed into hours. The moment her head touched the pillow, sleep swallowed her whole.

Her dreams brought back her mother-face streaked with blood, eyes wide open, unable to rest in peace.

Cathryn woke to find her pillow wet beneath her cheek. Grabbing her phone, she saw dozens of missed calls-all from Liam and Jordyn.

Another call came through at once. Jordyn's screech filled her ear. "Cathryn, you can't keep avoiding the divorce! Liam doesn't love you. He belongs to me, heart and soul. You clinging to Mrs. Watson means nothing."

Liam's words followed, harsh and impatient. "Cathryn, listen up. Jordyn and I are currently outside the courthouse. Move your butt and end our marriage at once!"

Divorcing Liam? Cathryn wanted nothing more. Severing ties with him would free her-and open the path toward marrying into the Brooks family. Yet, she hadn't expected him to be so frantic, rushing toward Jordyn as though time itself would abandon him.

Just then, a firm knock echoed against her door. She pulled it open to find Gavin, holding a white dress draped neatly over his arm. "Mr. Brooks instructed me to deliver this to you, ma'am," he said.

Cathryn dropped her gaze and accepted the dress. "Please convey my gratitude to Mr. Brooks."

Her dress from yesterday had been stained with blood. There was no chance she would ever put it on again. For someone of her future spouse's stature, his attention to detail was surprising. If they could endure the year as polite strangers, perhaps living with him wouldn't feel so suffocating.

The new dress slipped over her skin and settled perfectly, hugging her figure as if it had been sewn with her alone in mind. A quick twirl in the mirror confirmed it-the fit was flawless.

Admiring her reflection would have to wait. She dashed out and flagged down the first taxi she saw, determined to make it to the courthouse as soon as possible.

Outside the courthouse, Liam and Jordyn paced restlessly, scanning the crowd, nervous that Cathryn might not show up.

When the cab stopped at the curb, Cathryn stepped out. The white dress danced around her legs, light as air.

Her face was a touch pale, which only made her gaze more intense-eyes that seemed to cut straight through a person. Those eyes shimmered, carrying the fragile glow of a blossom after rainfall. The sight called forth an unexpected ache to shield her.

Liam, for the first time, had really looked at Cathryn. Three years had slipped by with barely a second look in her direction-Jordyn had held his gaze and filled his thoughts since the first day of his marriage to Cathryn.

But now, faced with Cathryn, Liam was struck by her beauty. It was a fragile kind of beauty, pure and broken, something Jordyn could never possess.

A wave of remorse crept through him. Cathryn was his wife. There was nothing wrong with him claiming her. If not for Jordyn hogging him so much that he had no energy for another woman, perhaps he wouldn't have gone three years without consummating the marriage with Cathryn.

"Liam, I've already gotten in touch with Kestrel." Jordyn caught the shift in his eyes and clung to his arm quickly, staking her claim.

This snapped Liam out of his train of thought. His expression shifted, lips curling into a smile at the mention of Kestrel. All at once, Cathryn's beauty seemed to fade into the background. Connections mattered more than looks. Only Jordyn could give Watson Tech the boost it so desperately needed. Kicking Cathryn out and moving Jordyn in-nothing would serve him better.