My Fiancé Married Me To His Brother

From the back cover

To the world, I was Delia Fitzgerald, the spoiled, vacuous daughter of the South's wealthiest family. But behind the practiced pout and expensive stilettos, I was a sleeper agent, a shadow trained for war.

The mask cracked the night my fiancé, Ansel Gibson, dumped me in the rain. He didn't just break the engagement; he recoiled in physical disgust, claiming that the very sight of me made him physically ill.

When I returned home, I expected my father to be furious about the failed business merger. Instead, I found him paralyzed by a primal terror I had never seen. It wasn't about the money; it was about a "blood debt" and a mysterious parchment that held our family's lives in the balance.

"You will go to the Gibsons and beg for forgiveness," my father rasped, his hands shaking uncontrollably. "If this contract is broken, there will be blood."

My own brothers, men who usually ruled the city, could only watch in grim silence. I realized then that I wasn't a daughter to them-I was currency, a lamb being led to the slaughter to pay for a secret I didn't even know existed.

I didn't understand why the Gibsons were so obsessed with me, or why Killian Gibson-the family's true monster-was suddenly tracking my every move with a predatory smile. He traced the callouses on my hands, marks from thousands of rounds of gunfire that no debutante should have, and whispered that he wanted me where he could see me.

If they wanted a pawn, they picked the wrong girl. I decided to stop running and walked straight into the lion's den, accepting a job as Killian's "Chief Special Assistant."

I was going to find that parchment and tear their world apart from the inside. The game had officially begun, and this time, the "Baby Girl" was the one holding the knife.