I was in the middle of divorcing Brandon Shaw.

My brother-in-law Brian Shaw lent me one of his vacant apartments to stay in temporarily.


The very night I moved in, Brian Shaw—who had sworn he wouldn't set foot in the place for "800 years"—appeared beside my bed.

His eyes were wet like an innocent puppy's, but his hot breath against my skin sent warning signals through my body.

"Sister-in-law—no, Anna... I've played the gentleman for five years. Now that my brother has thrown you away, isn't it finally my turn?"


I'd had too much to drink and my head was spinning.

As I struggled to respond, my phone buzzed.


I glanced at it—a message from Brandon Shaw:

Where are you? Come home. I don't consent to this divorce.

We've already signed the papers and NOW you don't agree? Where were you when it actually mattered?

I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration.

Brandon Shaw was the one who cheated first, and I hadn't even gotten my revenge yet.

Sleeping with his brother wouldn't exactly count as me stealing another woman's man.

I turned my attention back to Brian.

"Are you even old enough for this?"

Brian immediately looked wounded.

"I'm twenty-two, Anna."

"Is that so?" I smiled, tilting his face up toward mine.

Youth had its advantages—his features were delicate and beautiful.

And judging by how he'd pinned me down earlier, his strength was impressive too.

I leaned in and brushed my lips against the corner of his mouth.

Meeting his eager, shining eyes, I whispered firmly:

"Be gentle. And do exactly as I say."

Brian's kisses were so intense they left me breathless.

Through my alcohol-induced haze, a realization struck me.

Brandon and I hadn't shared such passionate intimacy in ages.

Not only that—we were getting divorced.