My Fiancé's Scandals Never End, So I Married His Brother Instead

Chapter 45: Kiss of the Dark Night

His voice was distant, as if they were practically strangers.

He stood right behind her, leaning down slightly. His thin shirt brushed almost imperceptibly against her spine, and as he spoke, his cool breath caressed her ear. He put a slight emphasis on the word "Nathan." While others didn’t notice anything amiss, Celia Sterling clearly sensed the faint trace of annoyance under his calm voice.

Celia’s composure, so hard-won, instantly shattered. The last person she expected to see here—among this gaggle of ’brothers’—was Silas Norwood.

She’d come here to have fun and relax. Now that her fiancé had caught her in the act, her relaxation had morphed into guilt. She cleared her throat a few times, forcing herself to sound composed.

"Silas, what are you doing here?"

"I’ve been here for over an hour, but it seems my ’little sister’ was too preoccupied to notice." Silas continued to tease her with the "brother-sister" talk, his gaze drifting to her beet-red ears. "All these pretty faces must be quite distracting."

Celia glanced at the crowd of "pretty faces"—all of them obscenely rich and influential—and wisely kept her mouth shut.

Silas stopped teasing her. Still leaning over her from behind, he reached out and pressed the automatic shuffler button. "A flush," he said, his tone perfectly serious as he began to coach her. "Know how to make one?"

Celia was terrible at mahjong, but she wasn’t a complete novice.

But with Silas maintaining that intimate position, her mind was no longer on the tiles. What little skill she had evaporated, and she shook her head. "Not really."

"Don’t worry, Nathan will teach you." With an expression of refined composure, Silas casually pointed to a tile. "Discard this one."

In a daze, Celia discarded a Nine Dots tile.

With Silas in the game, the real match began.

Celia had heard from Theo Chambers that his boss loved to play mahjong.

He’d also mentioned that Silas wasn’t known for his sportsmanship at the table. On this particularly thrilling night, Celia was about to find out exactly what that meant.

The Crown Prince of the Marsh Family and the Crown Prince of the Lowell Family had been joking and flirting freely with Celia just moments before. Now, in front of Silas, they were visibly on edge. All traces of their earlier casual demeanor vanished. They played their tiles in silence; as long as Silas said nothing, they too treated silence as golden.

After a few rounds, Celia was still completely lost. The Crown Prince of the Marsh Family, sitting opposite her, drew a tile that completed a special winning hand.

"Apologies. A flush, with a win from the wall. Mahjong."

But before he could even celebrate, Silas’s cool gaze swept over him. "The Marsh Family has two projects currently held up on my desk," Silas remarked, as if making small talk.

The Crown Prince of the Marsh Family froze, his hands hovering over the tiles he’d been about to reveal. He silently broke up his winning hand and discarded a tile that Celia needed.

Celia’s expression was conflicted. "But... didn’t you just win?"

"I saw it wrong." The Crown Prince of the Marsh Family was a man who knew which way the wind blew. He had already deciphered Silas’s intentions. His own victory was now irrelevant; the only thing that mattered was that Celia had to win.

The Crown Prince of the Lowell Family was just as sharp. He exchanged a look with his counterpart from the Marsh Family and began discreetly feeding Celia tiles as well. Behind them, the other onlooking Crown Princes watched with amusement as the two players repeatedly discarded tiles that would have given them a self-drawn win.

「A dozen or so minutes later.」

Celia stared at the tiles in her hand, speechless.

Silas said gently, "There, see? You’ve built your flush, haven’t you?"

Celia knew perfectly well it was complete. Her disastrous hand had been built entirely by the other three players throwing the game for her. Even then, her luck was so awful that she didn’t draw the final tile she needed until the very end of the wall.

For the first time in her life, she felt utterly shameless for winning a game of mahjong.

Silas had already straightened up. Feigning ignorance, he asked nonchalantly,

"So, what was the bet you all made earlier?"

Celia’s hand, which had been idly fiddling with a tile, froze.

The Crown Prince of the Marsh Family’s voice rang out, loud and clear, carrying the sort of tacit encouragement men give each other. "She wins, she kisses Chairman Norwood."

’Kiss Silas Norwood?’

’So that other man sitting next to Kian Sterling, the one everyone was gathered around, was Silas?’

’They want me to kiss Silas? In front of all these people?’

"I can’t," Celia stammered, darting a glance at Silas. "I have a fiancé."

"What’s there to be scared of, little sister? It’s a private game." The Crown Prince of the Sterling Family smirked. "As for what happens in this club today, I, Brother Sterling, can promise you on behalf of all the ’brothers’ here that not a single word will leak out. Your fiancé won’t hear so much as a peep."

Celia pressed on, grasping for another excuse. "A man like Silas... he’s so chaste and virtuous. How could I just casually defile—"

Silas was once again the center of a crowd. He hadn’t said another word after asking about the bet. He leaned against the gilded entryway of the hall, the picture of aloof nobility. His pale gold eyes landed nonchalantly on Celia, their depths as dark as night.

A man’s silence is best understood by other men.

"It’s fine." The Crown Prince of the Lowell Family glanced at Silas. "A bet’s a bet. I’m sure Chairman Norwood can take it."

Cornered and with no way out, Celia scurried over to Kian Sterling on the sofa. She tugged pitifully at the hem of his shirt, begging him with her eyes to get her out of this mess.

Kian’s gaze remained fixed on Silas for several seconds before he slowly set down his wine glass. He spoke languidly,

"That’s enough. Everyone clear out."

Once Kian had spoken, the teasing stopped. The crowd knew some things weren’t meant for their eyes, and they quickly took their leave.

The club’s parking lot was a sea of supercars, each worth millions. Laughing and chatting, the Crown Princes located their respective drivers and convoys, dispersing in an instant.

The club fell silent.

"I’ll wait for you in the car." Leaving the two of them some privacy, Kian’s stunningly handsome figure was the next to exit.

The parking lot was now mostly empty, with only a few cars remaining.

Kian pinched the bridge of his nose and tossed his car keys to his assistant, Evan Rhodes, who was waiting outside. "I’ll be taking Cece’s car."

He leaned against the passenger door of his beast of an SUV, his back to the light, casting a long shadow. He casually lit a cigarette, his handsome face tilted toward the night sky, his expression unreadable.

Inside the club, only Celia and Silas remained.

"Silas..." With the crowd of onlookers gone, Celia felt much more relaxed. "That bet... they were just fooling around."

Silas walked over to her, stopping just inches away.

"It’s fine." He hummed softly, his voice betraying no emotion as he gently reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. "Let’s go. Your brother’s waiting."

Celia walked out with him. He was back to his refined, gentle self, but it was as if a layer of mist now separated them. The man who had unbuttoned his shirt and invited her to check his scent was hidden away, replaced by the unapproachable figurehead of the Norwood Conglomerate.

It wasn’t directed at her.

But he seemed to be in a foul mood. Despite his efforts to hide it, the shift in his aura was undeniable.

"Silas," Celia said suddenly, her voice low as she explained, "It’s not that I didn’t want to."

Silas paused. "Mm."

They had reached a long, dimly lit corridor.

The darkest part.

The next moment, a pair of soft arms wrapped around Silas’s neck. The girl rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her soft lips to his cheek.

It was a fleeting touch.