Craving The Wrong Brother (Sloane and Knox) novel Chapter 190

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Chapter 190

Chapter 190

I guess I’m the only Julie O’Brien in this house, because Paula and Javier are staring at me, waiting for a response.

“Did they say who it was?” I ask.

Paula frowns. “They said he’s a process server, here to serve a document to someone named Julie O’Brien. Said the address led them here, but security doesn’t seem to know of a Julie O’Brien on the premises, so they called for confirmation.”

Process server? Here? For me?

There’s something about the way Paula said the last sentence that has me thinking she’s hinting at something mischievous. Telling me I can deny being here. It’s tempting. Really tempting. A process server showing up for me could only mean one thing: bad news. My mind races. How did they find me here? What’s in that envelope? As much as I want to take Paula’s advice and hide, I’m curious.

“The gate, you say?” I ask, already standing up.

Paula nods.

I walk, slipping past the table, feeling Javier’s gaze track me the whole way. I open the door, stepping out into the hallway.

The walk to the gate feels endless. It’s like I’m moving underwater, every step heavier than the last. And then I see him, the man standing just on the other side of the gate bars. He’s in his mid–forties, average build, with that bored look I’ve seen on people who are used to delivering bad news. In his hand, he holds a stack of documents.

I stop just short of the bars, forcing myself to keep my face blank.

“Mrs. Julie O’Brien?” he asks.

I nod, more out of habit than choice, and he pushes the papers through the bars, like he’s handing over my death warrant.

“You’ve been served.”

I stare at the envelope in my hand, and then I fumble with it. My fingers move slower than they should, my stomach tightening with every fold I peel back,

It’s Ryan’s response to my divorce summons. But it’s not just a response; it’s a counterclaim. Ryan is denying everything–every single accusation, every ounce of emotional abuse I endured. According to him, none of it happened. The papers are filled with the most twisted counter–narrative I could imagine, accusing me of adultery, cruelty, defamation, even desertion.

Each word feels like a punch to the gut.

Ryan has painted himself as the victim, the wounded husband.

That son of a bitch.

An hour later, I’m sitting across from my divorce attorney, Maya Ramos, watching as she flips through the documents. Maya’s face is expressionless. I guess, as a lawyer, she has perfected that look over the years. One thing I know is she’s efficient, judging by how quickly those divorce summons went out to Ryan.

“So,” she begins without looking up. “Let’s break down Ryan’s claims, shall we? Starting with the ‘desertion.”

I roll my eyes. “Desertion? Really? That’s rich, considering he basically pushed me out the door.”

“Yes, well, Ryan’s memory seems…convenient. But this is family court, not a truth convention. He claims you abandoned him.”

“Abandoned him? I was driven to the edge!” My voice rises, but Maya remains unfazed, her gaze steady.

“Right, and that’s what we’ll argue,” she replies, almost sounding amused. “Let’s just say you were ‘coerced‘ out. Not sure if the judge will buy it, but at least it’s believable.”

“Right.”

She lets the silence settle for a beat, then nudges another document forward, ticking something off with her pen. “Next, he’s claiming ‘cruelty.‘ I’ll give him this much–he’s imaginative. In other words, he’s saying you somehow inflicted unbearable hardship on him during the marriage.”

I sit back, glowering at the paper in front of me like it personally insulted me.

1/3

Chapter 190

“Good to see we’re on the same page.” Maya’s lips twitch, this time closer to a smile. “Now, ‘irreconcilable differences‘–standard fare. Basically, he’s saying the marriage is unsalvageable.”

I look off, my heart twisting. “Yeah…”

Maya taps her pen against the table. “We’re not here to reminisce, Julie. Focus.”

Right. Sure.” I straighten up, giving

a small nod.

Maya clears her throat and pulls another paper forward. Her eyes flick up to mine, giving me a look I can only describe as skeptical. “And then we have ‘defamation,” she says. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but did anything… specific make its way to the press? Something along the lines of… emotional abuse? Adultery?”

My stomach tightens. “I mean… yeah. The divorce summons leaked to the press.”

She doesn’t react. “Mm–hmm. And so

far, any

evidence to back that up?”

I swallow, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “Plenty. Just… not all of it’s on paper.”

She sighs. “Julie, this isn’t the court of public opinion; it’s the court of law. If Ryan pursues this, we’ll need something concrete. So here’s what we’ll do–we’ll gather evidence. Emails, texts, records… anything to paint a clearer picture. And I’ll need a detailed timeline of events. The more details, the better, especially if we can find any witnesses who can back up your story.”

I exhale, pressing my palms together like I can squeeze all the frustration out of me. “That sounds… like a lot.”

“This is divorce, Julie. It is a lot. And Ryan’s throwing everything he has at you.”

“Fine,” I mutter, glancing away.

She clicks her pen and leans in, eyes sharp. “Let’s start simple. Is there anything he could use against you? Anything he could twist to make it sound damning?”

I hesitate, feeling my face flush. “Maybe…. there were a few times Luke and I were seen coming into the office building together. And, uh, that thing in the supply closet.”

Her eyebrow lifts, the closest thing to curiosity I’ve seen all day. “The supply closet thing?”

I squirm, the memory making my stomach knot. phone.”

Her pen

A

cleaning guy saw us. Maybe he gossiped. Somehow, the footage ended up on Ryan’s mistress’s

scratches along her notepad. “Well, isn’t that convenient. We’ll address that. Anything else? Something we could use against him?”

I pause, racking my brain. “There’s the house security fou and the office cameras, too. Plus, he froze my funds.”

Her face remains inscrutable, but I sense something shift in her. “Noted. Anything else? Witnesses?”

I shrug, a note of defeat creeping into my voice. “Nothing more. At least, not right now.”

“Is that all you

have?”

The question hits like a punch. “Yeah… that’s all.”

A silence stretches between us before she taps her pen again. “Okay. Now, if they come looking, will they find anything?”

“What do you

mean?”

She leans back, crossing her arms. “I mean, did you commit any of the allegations? Are you dating Mr. Martinez?”

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