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2025-12-18 19:18:00Alonzo dragged his thumb across the bridge of his nose, scratching the space between his brows the way he always did when he thought he had the upper hand in a debate. His dark eyes slid toward me, sharp, patient, but challenging.
“That it was unrealistic,” he said finally, voice dry, “for a college-level competitive swimmer to be training in a bathing suit clearly designed for pool parties in Ibiza.”I snorted, lifting my glass like a weapon. “Please. Realism went out the window the second the first episode opened on a dorm-based escort service. This is not a show you analyze, this is a show you surrender to. Stop worrying about whether it makes sense and start wondering who should date whom. Or, better yet, who would make the most entertaining villain.”He arched one perfectly sculpted brow at me. “Coming from the self-proclaimed queen of questioning everything?”“This is different.” I leaned back against the cushions, tossing my hair over my shoulder. “This is ind
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Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 101
At 3 AM on Thursday morning, I got a front-row seat to exactly why Constance Montana hadn’t been spotted outside her house in fifteen fucking years.The screams had me shooting out of bed like someone had set off a fire alarm directly in my brain. I grabbed the first potential weapon I could find – some ridiculously ornate vase that probably cost more than my student loans – and followed the sound of pure terror upstairs.Victor intercepted me in the hallway, one finger pressed to his lips in the universal “shut the hell up” gesture, his other hand extended for my makeshift weapon. Even at 3 AM, the man looked ready to spring into action – black shirt, gray sweatpants, the kind of alert stillness that suggested he’d been awake the second those screams started.I handed over the vase, eyes locked on the door behind him where Constance’s cries were raising every hair on my neck. The sounds were primal, desperate, the kind that made your chest tight with secondhand panic.Then they stopp
Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 100
Tuesday felt like a soft relaunch of summer. Alonzo swung his door open with that cool, unbothered smile, ushered me inside, and said, “Shoes off, Blondie. Library’s open. You hungry?”He’d already ordered lunch—sushi laid out in disciplined rows on the kitchen island like jewels in lacquered boxes. He used chopsticks with the kind of unshowy competence that made me aware of my elbows. After, he sent me back to the library and disappeared for calls, reappearing mid-afternoon with Starbucks cups balanced in one broad hand.“This is for you,” he said, sliding a plastic cup across the desk. The drink was an ice-cold cloud—milk, sugar, happiness.“You’ll live to love it,” I told him.He took one experimental sip of my order and physically recoiled. “This is a dessert pretending to be coffee.”“That’s why it’s perfect.”He lifted his own cup—black coffee with the faintest smudge of milk. “Some of us prefer honesty.”“Some of us prefer joy,” I countered, and to
Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 99
I closed the conference call window and yanked out my earbuds, but when I looked over at Allie again, she’d transformed my office floor into what appeared to be a scholarly command center. Four perfectly organized stacks of books sat like literary monuments, each accompanied by its own arsenal of color-coordinated highlighters, gel pens, and sticky notes arranged with the precision of surgical instruments.Jesus Christ. She’d militarized my sex book collection.“You have a system, Blondie?” I asked, because clearly this wasn’t casual browsing.“Personal accounts, essays, biographies,” she explained, slapping her palm against the first stack with the authority of someone presenting quarterly earnings. “Biology, psychology, sexology, and everything else that sounded vaguely scientific.” Second stack got the same treatment. “Guidebooks on how to have sex in all the different ways.” She drummed her fingers against the third pile like she was playing piano. Finally, she stret
Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 98
I opened my door to find what looked like a tiny human being consumed by the world’s most aggressively cheerful backpack. Blue and pink straps, keychains that sounded like a wind chime having an anxiety attack, and enough zippers to stock a small factory.Allie stood there in yoga pants and a crop top, looking completely different without her signature red lipstick. The whole blonde bombshell vibe had been replaced by something that screamed ‘eager exchange student ready to backpack through Europe with a Let’s Go guide and unlimited optimism.’“Sorry, you must have the wrong address,” I said, leaning against my doorframe. “The dorm for Swedish exchange students is two blocks south.”“Very funny, Mr. Benington.” She rolled her eyes, but those soft pink lips curved into a smile that made something in my chest do unauthorized gymnastics.I grimaced. “No. Don’t call me that when you look like this.”“Like wha— ew, you’re disgusting.”“I told you not to call me th
Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 97
Jesus Christ. Even locked away, thousands of miles and years since she’d last had any real power over my life, Georgina still managed to dig her claws in. Manipulations didn’t fade—they fermented, grew sharper with time.“I can handle her,” I muttered, jaw tight.“Three strategies. Go.” Her voice cut through the air like the crack of a whip. Just three simple words, but they threw me back decades—late nights at the long mahogany dinner table, my head pounding as Georgina forced us through drills: international conflicts, historical battles, celebrity scandals, chess endgames. Anything that required strategy. We weren’t allowed to sleep until she was satisfied. I could still feel the ache of that polished wood against my forehead from nights when exhaustion won out.“Pregnancy and shotgun wedding,” Julius said smoothly, parroting the same plan he’d thrown at me weeks ago.If Georgina had feelings about it, she buried them beneath her usual steel mask. “Contraceptives?
Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 96
I dragged my stylus across the tablet screen, crossing out another useless paragraph about international ski properties. My lawyers had delivered a prenup draft that read like they’d copy-pasted from some generic billionaire playbook instead of doing actual research on Constance Montana.Swiss chalet rights? Seriously?The woman hadn’t left her house in fifteen years. Pretty sure she wasn’t planning skiing weekends in the Alps anytime soon. And the section about “potential future children living abroad” was pure fantasy – this marriage would last exactly as long as it took to merge Montana Corp with Xenos. Maybe eighteen months if we were being generous.These idiots had clearly never met an actual recluse heiress. They were probably picturing some social butterfly who’d want access to vacation homes and international custody arrangements. Constance would more likely negotiate for premium WiFi and organic grocery delivery.I fired off an email that would definitely r
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