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CHAPTER SEVENTY THREE
publish date:
2026-07-16 18:43:46
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CORRUPT ME (GIVING MY INNOCENCE TO MY BROTHER'S BESTFRIEND) EPILOUGE
"He promised to corrupt me. Instead he taught me how to live again."MYRAOne year later.The nursery was painted a soft cream color that had taken me three weeks to choose and Zyran exactly four minutes to approve, which was the particular division of labor that had come to define us — me deliberating, him deciding, both of us arriving at the same place through completely different routes.She was three months old.Isla Rossi Theon, who had arrived in the world at two in the morning on a Tuesday with dark hair and her father's gray eyes and a temperament that swung between absolute calm and absolute fury with no discernible middle ground, which everyone agreed was entirely Zyran's fault.I stood in the doorway of the nursery and watched him.He didn't know I was there yet. He was standing over the crib with Isla against his chest, one large hand spanning her entire back, and he was doing the thing he did when he thought nobody was watching — talking to her quietly, low enough that I
CORRUPT ME (GIVING MY INNOCENCE TO MY BROTHER'S BESTFRIEND) CHAPTER EIGHTY ONE
"The things we hide the hardest are never hidden from the people who love us most. They're just waiting for us to be ready."MYRAIt happened two days after we came home.Not planned. Nothing about it was planned. We were all in the living room of the estate — my parents, Luca, Zyran, all of us in the same space for the first time since everything, the particular exhausted quiet of people who had been through something large and were still finding the edges of it.My mother had made tea. That was her response to most things — the ritual of making something warm and carrying it to people, the oldest form of care she knew. She'd been moving around us since we got back, touching my shoulder when she passed, smoothing my hair the way she'd done when I was small, making food none of us were eating properly.My father was in the armchair by the window. He'd aged in the last forty eight hours in a way I noticed and didn't comment on. The particular aging of a man who'd understood something a
CORRUPT ME (GIVING MY INNOCENCE TO MY BROTHER'S BESTFRIEND) CHAPTER EIGHTY
"Some wars end with negotiations. Some end with fire. This one was always going to end with fire."ZYRANNikolai's location came through at four seventeen in the afternoon.A compound in the outer borough, one of Sokolov's properties held through three layers of shell companies that had taken the financial mapping ten days to penetrate. Large enough to hold people. Remote enough to have privacy. Close enough to the city that moving Myra further would have required the airport lockdown Cristian had already activated.They hadn't moved her far.That told me something. Either they were confident in the security of the location, or they wanted me to find it. Given what I knew about Sokolov's methodology, it was probably both.I looked at the floor plan Nikolai had sourced and spent eleven minutes building the approach in my head, the way I built everything — completely, accounting for variables, identifying the places where the plan would need to adapt in real time.Then I looked at the m
CORRUPT ME (GIVING MY INNOCENCE TO MY BROTHER'S BESTFRIEND) CHAPTER SEVENTY NINE
"Sometimes the evidence of love doesn't look like love at all. Sometimes it looks like obsession. And sometimes, if you look closer, it looks like grief."LUCAI found it by accident.That was the honest truth of it. I wasn't looking for anything specific when I went through the house — I was moving the way I moved when I needed to feel useful and didn't have enough information yet to be useful in any directed way. Nikolai was running data. Cristian was locking down exit points. Zyran was in the security room doing things I didn't have the access to do alongside him.So I moved through the house.Not searching for evidence. Just moving. The particular restless energy of a man whose sister had been taken and who had to do something with his hands or lose his mind entirely.I'd been through the main floor. The library, which still had her book open on the arm of the chair, a folded receipt marking her page. The kitchen, where Elena's morning preparations were still half-finished on the
CORRUPT ME (GIVING MY INNOCENCE TO MY BROTHER'S BESTFRIEND) CHAPTER SEVENTY EIGHT
"There is a version of a man that only appears when everything he has decided matters is suddenly gone."ZYRANI knew before I walked through the door.That was the thing I kept coming back to afterward, in the hours that followed, when there was enough distance from the moment to examine it. I'd known in the car. Something had shifted in the quality of the silence coming through my earpiece, the specific absence of the routine check-ins that happened on the quarter hour, and I'd known before Marcus confirmed it, before the gates came into view, before anything visible told me.I'd known the way you knew when something fundamental had changed. Not information. Something deeper than information.Marcus had his weapon out before the car stopped moving.I was out of the door before him.The front of the house looked normal.That was the first wrong thing. It should not have looked normal. The absence of visible disruption where there should have been disruption was its own kind of eviden
CORRUPT ME (GIVING MY INNOCENCE TO MY BROTHER'S BESTFRIEND) CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX
"The most effective trap is the one that looks like a door someone opened for you."JEREMYThe call came from a number Myra would recognize.That was the detail that had required the most patience to arrange. Not the logistics of the van, not the route, not the coordination with Damon's men who were professional enough that working with them had been straightforward once the alliance was established. Those parts were mechanical. Solvable problems with solvable solutions.The number was the art of it.He'd spent three weeks on that specific detail. Watching, mapping, understanding the architecture of her daily life well enough to identify the single point of contact that would make her move without thinking. Without checking. Without doing the careful, sensible thing that Zyran had spent months training her to do.The answer had been obvious once he'd found it.Not Luca. Luca she'd call back before going anywhere. Not her mother, whose voice she knew too well to be fooled by anything a
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