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หน้าหลัก / MM Romance / CRUEL DESIRES: MY BULLY TURNED STEP BROTHER / The Ambush

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The Ambush

ผู้เขียน: Theemage
last update วันที่เผยแพร่: 2026-04-28 18:38:58

Gabriel's POV

"No. Don't check on me. Seriously, get lost."

Bradley laughed. It wasn't a nice sound. It was the laugh of someone who was just trying to mock me. He looked at me, shrugged, and stuffed his hands in his pockets again.

"Okay, Gabe. Whatever. You waiting for someone?"

"Yeah," I said, my voice barely working. "My brother."

Bradley snorted. It sounded like he had just heard the funniest joke of the century. "Wow. You are actually calling him your brother now? I thought you hated
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  • CRUEL DESIRES: MY BULLY TURNED STEP BROTHER    Befitting Punishment

    Gabriel's POV The living room of the apartment felt entirely too small, the air thick and heavy with a silence that made my skin crawl. I was lying back against the pillows on the bed, my body aching with this dull, throbbing soreness from where those guards had pinned me down. The small cuts on my arms had been cleaned, stinging every time the fabric of the clean sheets brushed against them. Mr. Miller was standing near the edge of my bed, my mum sitting on the couch. She was pressing her phone. Her fingers were flying across the glowing screen, her face completely blank, as if if her only child hadn't just been dragged out of a basement last night. She hadn't even asked to touch my hand. She hadn't asked where it hurt. She just sat there, looking completely unbothered, her mind somewhere miles away inside that damn phone. Mr. Miller cleared his throat, his deep voice breaking the quiet. "Shouldn't Gabriel come back to the house so he can rest well? It would be easier to

  • CRUEL DESIRES: MY BULLY TURNED STEP BROTHER    The Second's Between Us 2

    Derek's POV The sheer absurdity of him asking that right now made a surge of heat rush through my veins. I didn't turn around, my eyes never leaving the thugs direction. "You can't even keep your mouth shut when you are about to die," I shot back, my voice low, rough, and sharp. Within seconds, the heavy thud of boots finally burst into the room. The police officers flooded the basement, their flashlights blindingly bright as they swarmed the area, slamming the two giant men onto the floor and throwing handcuffs over their wrists. They grabbed Brandon by his arms, hauling him up. The second the plastic ties zipped around his wrists, Brandon’s face twisted back into that frantic, dramatic mask. He started screaming at the top of his lungs, his body thrashing against the officers hold as they dragged him toward the door. "It wasn't me! I was kidnapped too by these men, Gabriel tell them the truth!" His shrill voice echoed off the concrete, desperate and pathetic, but I d

  • CRUEL DESIRES: MY BULLY TURNED STEP BROTHER    The Second's Between Us

    Derek's POV The damp, rotting smell of old concrete was thick enough to choke on, but I barely registered it. I was moving too fast. My boots slammed against the cracked floorboards of the corridor, the noise echoing off the stained walls like gunshots. Behind me and around me, the tactical guys were moving in their stiff formations, shifting their weights, holding their heavy firearms up like they were trained to do. The Chief of Police kept trying to grab my shoulder. His hand was heavy, sweaty, smelling like cheap coffee and old tobacco, trying to pull me back toward safety. "Miller, stop. You need to wait in the vehicle. We have the area cordoned off, let our team handle...." I didn't even let him finish the sentence. I flung his hand off my shoulder with an aggressive, violent jerk that sent him stumbling back against one of his officers. I couldn't just sit in the car and expect these incompetent officers to help me rescue Gabe. Every single second they wasted discus

  • CRUEL DESIRES: MY BULLY TURNED STEP BROTHER    Pocket Knife

    Gabriel's POV I stared at him, trying to process what he just said. Murderers are not usually yappers right? Look at him. Brandon was just standing there, threatening me, talking about his mom and his therapy sessions. He didn't even look like a murderer. He was wearing a pink, tight tank top, black shorts, and flashy jewelry that jingled slightly whenever he moved. Murderers don't dress like that, right? They wear trench coats or all black or leather jackets. They don't wear neon pink tank tops and talk about their mothers forcing them to go to therapy. He had to be bluffing. He was just a spoiled, dramatic, deeply unstable kid who wanted to scare the life out of me because his ego was bruised. Brandon suddenly clapped his hands, cutting me off right in the middle of my thoughts. "Hello! You are in your last moments and you are zoning out." I snapped my gaze back up to him, my chest still heaving but my mind trying desperately to hold onto that small thread of hope. Oka

  • CRUEL DESIRES: MY BULLY TURNED STEP BROTHER    Therapy

    Gabriel's POV Brandon smiled, nodding his head like a teacher praising a student who finally got the answer right. "Yeah, that's...me." The constant, unwavering smile sent a deep, freezing chill straight through my spine. It wasn't normal. Nobody stands over a tied up person in a dark room and looks that genuinely happy. It made him look completely detached from reality. "What... why did you kidnap me?" I stammered, my voice shaking so badly I could barely form the words. "Where am I?" Instead of answering, Brandon just kept that bright expression on his face. He turned and dragged a heavy wooden chair out from a dark corner of the room and set it down directly opposite me. He sat down casually, crossing one leg over the other, completely at ease. He began to tap his leg with one finger, his eyes wide and unblinking as he just stared at me, studying my face like I was some kind of strange exhibit. The silence stretched on, the tapping of his finger the only sound in the ro

  • CRUEL DESIRES: MY BULLY TURNED STEP BROTHER    His Rivals

    Gabriel's POV The darkness wasn't just empty, it felt heavy, like it was pressing down directly onto my chest. My head was pounding with this sick, wet thudding behind my eyes, the kind of ache that makes your stomach turn every time you try to blink. My mouth tasted like dry copper and whatever chemical they had stuffed down my throat before everything went black. I tried to lift my hand to rub my temple, just a natural reflex because the pain was splitting my skull open but my arm didn’t move. It jerked back, hard, and the sudden resistance sent a sharp jolt of wood scraping against my wrists. I blinked fast, staring into nothing. Nothing. Just pitch black. I tried to pull my right arm forward again. Same thing. A thick, rough cord was biting deep into the skin around my wrists, pinning my hands backwards against the frame of a heavy chair. My legs were loose, but when I tried to kick out, my sneakers just hit empty air and then the solid thud of floorboards. Think. Gab

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