Chapter 45: Now The Hunted [pt. 2]

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• Forbidden Desires: Falling For My Fiance's Brother   Chapter 58: Desires

  The kiss started soft—just the press of lips and breath—but it deepened fast. Annabelle’s hands reached up to his collar, pulling him in like she didn’t want to think anymore. Like she needed something real, something now. Devon didn’t hesitate. His mouth met hers again, fuller this time, and as their lips parted, they both tried to catch their breaths. Annabelle's body was flush against Devon's, and soon the night that had begun with laughter and music cracked wide open into something else entirely. Devon’s hand found the small of her back, guiding her gently inside. She closed the door behind them, locked it without looking. The foyer was dimly lit, but Devon’s focus wasn’t on the house—it was on her. The green dress she wore earlier that night, clung to her curves like it had been sewn there, and the way she looked at him—hungry, raw—made everything else vanish. Neither of them spoke as they made their way upstairs. Just soft touches and glances. The tension between the both of

• Forbidden Desires: Falling For My Fiance's Brother   Chapter 57: Date Night

  The restaurant was high above the city—fifty-six floors to be exact. Floor-to-ceiling glass surrounded their table, giving them a panoramic view of Manhattan as twilight melted into night. Cars below looked like scattered fireflies, and the buildings across the skyline gleamed like steel and glass titans standing in judgment.Annabelle looked radiant. A deep green dress hugged her just right, her hair pulled back into something soft and effortless. Devon had changed too—black shirt, blazer, clean lines. For once, he didn’t feel like he was performing. Not for the board. Not for his father. Just… here, having dinner with his contracted wife-to-be.Everything was just perfect. Their waiter was attentive, moving with the kind of choreography that only places like this demanded. While the menu on the other hand, was handwritten and changed daily. Hell, Devon didn’t even recognize half the dishes, but it didn’t matter. They both ordered wine. Steak for him. A Truffle risotto for her.“So,”

• Forbidden Desires: Falling For My Fiance's Brother   Chapter 57: Date Night

  The restaurant was high above the city—fifty-six floors to be exact. Floor-to-ceiling glass surrounded their table, giving them a panoramic view of Manhattan as twilight melted into night. Cars below looked like scattered fireflies, and the buildings across the skyline gleamed like steel and glass titans standing in judgment.Annabelle looked radiant. A deep green dress hugged her just right, her hair pulled back into something soft and effortless. Devon had changed too—black shirt, blazer, clean lines. For once, he didn’t feel like he was performing. Not for the board. Not for his father. Just… here, having dinner with his contracted wife-to-be.Everything was just perfect. Their waiter was attentive, moving with the kind of choreography that only places like this demanded. While the menu on the other hand, was handwritten and changed daily. Hell, Devon didn’t even recognize half the dishes, but it didn’t matter. They both ordered wine. Steak for him. A Truffle risotto for her.“So,”

• Forbidden Desires: Falling For My Fiance's Brother   Chapter 56: No Excuses

  Devon's phone screen lit up with a name he hadn’t seen in weeks. Micheal. Devon’s brows pulled together. He stared at the notification for a full five seconds before his thumb moved. > Hey, I’ve been off the grid for a while... Just reaching out to let you know. There’s so many things you must know. Talk when I can. That was it. Devon read it again. Then a third time, as if reading it one more time might force more information out of it. He tapped the number—no saved contact photo, just digits—but when he tried to call, a crisp female voice came through the speaker. “The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service.” He frowned, lowered the phone, and dialed again. Same thing. Third time, just to be sure. Still nothing. Dead line. The kind of line that had never really been alive in the first place. Devon sat forward, staring at the screen like it owed him answers. It didn’t make sense. Micheal had disappeared without a trace weeks ago—right after the funeral, righ

• Forbidden Desires: Falling For My Fiance's Brother   Chapter 55: A Pair Of Dry Hands

  Devon’s foot slammed the brake just in time and the car lurched forward with a sharp hiss of tires against asphalt, jolting him hard into his seatbelt. His heart immediately shot up to his throat, hammering. For a second, he couldn’t move, or breath. He just sat there staring through the windshield at the small figure frozen in front of his car. A child. He'd almost hit a child. Barefooted. Clothes loose and threadbare, hanging off his bony shoulders. His knees were scraped, dirt smudged along his face like war paint. The boy stood there unmoving, wide-eyed, as if the world had paused with him in it. Devon’s hand shot to the door handle and he was out of the car before he’d even realized it. “Hey,” he called, voice raw with adrenaline. “Are you hurt?” The kid didn’t speak. Just blinked up at him, wary and silent. Devon crouched low, his breath still uneven. “You okay?” No answer. But the boy didn’t run. His lip trembled slightly, and his fingers twitched like he didn’

• Forbidden Desires: Falling For My Fiance's Brother   Chapter 54: Just Ahead

  The tires hummed quietly beneath him as the city rolled by—gray, blurred buildings smeared across the windshield like watercolor. Devon’s hands gripped the steering wheel with more tension than he realized, veins stiff beneath the skin. The AC whispered, faint against the low throb in his temples. It was just past noon, and the sunlight barely pierced through the muted clouds. Manhattan never quite stopped moving, but in this moment, Devon felt curiously still, like he was suspended above his life, watching it unfold from the outside. It had been a week since Hugh Lawson's funeral. The weight of it hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had settled into the marrow of things. Not just the funeral—everything. Damian’s death. The accident. The way his name still echoed in Devon’s mind, soaked in guilt and silence. The PI’s report on Celeste. The blackmail. The lies. The damned ring he’d picked up from the warehouse, now buried in a hollow space in his study drawer, wedged between meaningless