From Broken Sister To Beloved Wife

After our parents died in a plane crash, my brothers were my whole world. That ended the day they brought Francis home-a manipulative liar they treated like a saint while he systematically turned them against me.

He framed me for everything, from fake injuries to sabotaging the neuro-linker compound that was my life's work.

My brothers always chose his crocodile tears over my truth.

"He's in the hospital, Jenna. Thanks to you," Bryan snarled over the phone.

They even offered him my childhood bedroom right in front of me, as if I was already a ghost.

They had no idea I was about to become one.

I had a one-way ticket to Zurich and a contract with their biggest rival, a man who saw my value when my own blood saw a problem.

I wasn't just running away-I was taking all of their secrets with me.

Chapter 1

Jenna POV:

The contract lay on the table, crisp and unforgiving, much like the realization that my family had become strangers, their eyes reflecting an enemy, not a sister. My hand didn't shake when I picked up the pen.

The words blurred, a legal dance of clauses and commitments. It wasn't just a job offer. It was an escape, a promise of invisibility, and a final, brutal severance. The silence in my office was heavy, broken only by my own shaky breath. My heart hammered against my ribs, a trapped bird desperate for flight. This was it. The real ending.

Cesar Witt, founder of Aegis Collective, watched me from across the desk. His gaze was sharp, intelligent, yet surprisingly gentle. He had seen the raw edges of my talent, the way my mind worked in patterns no one else seemed to grasp. He saw my potential when my own blood saw only a problem.

"Are you certain, Jenna?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "Once you sign, there's no looking back. We erase the past. Completely."

I met his gaze, my throat tight. "More certain than I've ever been about anything," I whispered, the words scratching against my raw vocal cords.

He nodded, a subtle satisfaction in the slight curve of his lips, a flicker in his eyes that I couldn't quite decipher. It wasn't predatory, not exactly, but it held a possessiveness I recognized. It was the look of a man who knew he was getting something invaluable. The unease that flickered through me was quickly extinguished by the cold resolve hardening in my chest. He was offering a lifeline, and I was drowning.

With a deep breath, I scrawled my name across the dotted line, a definitive stroke that felt like cutting a cord. This wasn' t just a signature; it was a burial. The old Jenna Salazar was gone.

My fingers flew across the keyboard, booking a one-way flight. Zurich. The name felt foreign on my tongue, a new beginning tasting of crisp mountain air and anonymity. I had exactly one week to dismantle my life, to erase