Married To My Ex's Brother, Reborn Miraculously
Chapter 121: Megan is not my fiancée.

Chapter 121: Megan is not my fiancée.

Augustine’s jaw tensed and relaxed in rapid succession, the storm in his eyes revealing the battle raging within. A memory of his conversation with his grandfather surfaced.

The Beaumonts held sway over the entire city—everyone knew that. If they wanted something done, doors opened without question. It suddenly made sense how Megan landed the position so quickly. It wasn’t about merit. It was about connections.

He turned toward Anne, desperation etched into every line of his face. "Anne, please believe me. I had no hand in Megan joining the company. She is not my fiancée. I already made it clear to Grandpa—I have only one woman in my heart, and that’s you."

His voice cracked slightly. "I’m taking you to the family mansion. I want you to meet him and receive his blessing as my wife. No one—not even he can decide my future for me."

The walls she had created around herself began to tremble at the sincerity in his words.

"Are you really telling me the truth?" she whispered, her voice no longer sharp, but uncertain.

Augustine cupped her face, his thumb brushing away a lingering tear. "Yes. Tell me what to do to earn back your trust. I’ll do anything—just don’t push me away."

Anne didn’t pull back this time. She simply looked at him, heart torn but softening, feeling the truth in his touch.

All her lingering doubts dissolved like mist under sunlight. The storm of suspicion that had clouded her heart gave way to a calm certainty—he wasn’t lying.

He had risked his life to pull her from harm’s way. That kind of devotion couldn’t be faked. His actions had already proven his love.

Yet she turned her face away with a small, stubborn pout, feigning indifference.

Panic flickered across his features. "Are you still doubting me?"

"No, but I’m still upset. Everything at the office today... It was too much. The rumors, the awful stares, Megan’s smirks—and you weren’t there. You vanished the whole day."

Augustine felt a pang of guilt in his heart. He immediately wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight to his chest. "I’m sorry. You’re right. I should’ve been there for you. But I’ll fix it. I’ll handle every single person who wronged you. No one gets to mess with my wife and walk away."

Anne relaxed against him, her cheek resting against his chest. In his warmth, she felt the safety she had once feared she had lost. He was still hers. He had never stopped being hers.

At Denis’s penthouse...

When Denis stepped into his apartment, the last thing he expected was to find his mother sitting in his living room, waiting for him. His eyes widened in surprise. "Mom! What are you doing here?" he asked, blinking in disbelief. "When did you come?"

Jeanne took a slow sip of her coffee and placed the cup down. "I’ve been here for a while," she said coolly. "Since you haven’t visited us these days, I thought I’d come find you myself."

Her eyes drifted around the place, scanning for signs of another presence. "I assumed your girlfriend was staying here. Where is she? Out somewhere?"

Girlfriend?

The word echoed in Denis’s head like a slap. He stared at her, frowning. "Wait... you mean Tania?"

Jeanne’s sharp gaze narrowed. "Who else? Is there another woman I should know about?"

Denis rubbed his temple, thrown completely off guard. "I just wasn’t ready for that question..."

Her voice turned steely. "People are talking, Denis. Everyone is asking about you and Tania. They are wondering when the wedding is. If you are serious about her, why haven’t you introduced her to the family? Why have you kept her—and the baby—a secret?"

Denis felt the ground shift beneath him, his pulse quickening. "You... you know about the pregnancy?" he breathed, stunned. "Who told you? Was it Tania?"

"Yes," Jeanne replied icily. "Now tell me—why didn’t you tell us yourself?"

"Mom!" Denis dropped beside her. His usual calm was nowhere in sight, replaced by a frantic edge that gripped every word. "I’m not serious about Tania. The baby—it wasn’t planned. I’m not ready for any of this, not a child, not marriage."

Jeanne’s eyes were hard as stone, her tone colder than frost. "You should’ve thought about that before you got her pregnant. She is carrying the heir of this family. That child matters. And whether you’re ready or not, your father and I expect you to take responsibility. We want you to marry her."

Marriage? The word hit him like a blow to the chest. His pulse pounded in his ears, and his throat dried up.

"No," he muttered, shaking his head. "I... I can’t. I’m not ready for marriage."

To Denis, marriage was a cage. A chain around his neck that would shatter every ounce of freedom he cherished. On top of that, tying the knot with Tania would completely destroy his secret plan to win Anne back.

His thoughts spiraled. He had assumed his parents would handle the situation with Tania and the pregnancy discreetly, especially after they saw them together at the auction. Never in his wildest thoughts did he imagine they would push him to marry her.

Hadn’t his father urged him to pursue Megan?

Megan had status, influence—everything the family admired. And now they were pushing him toward Tania, a struggling actress from a mediocre background?

What had changed?

It didn’t make sense.

When he was with Anne, he still remembered his mother’s contempt—how she had scolded him and told him to distance himself from Anne. Back then, she had made it clear that the Beaumont family would never accept someone of humble origins. Yet now they were embracing Tania?

Denis couldn’t help but wonder if Tania had manipulated them somehow—used some cunning trick to turn the situation in her favor.

He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling under his skin. His thoughts were spinning out of control. Confusion and disbelief gnawed at him. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

"Mom, please," Denis pleaded, clutching her hands tightly with desperation. "I don’t want to get married."

But Jeanne was unmoved. Her eyes glinted with steely resolve as she pulled her hands away. "Whether you want to or not, you will marry her," she said sharply. "That child carries the Beaumont blood. It will not be born out of wedlock. The wedding is next month. And this weekend, we’re taking her to meet your grandfather."