Craving My Brother-in-Law

AMARA'S P.O.V The mirror doesn’t lie. It just reflects a truth I wish I could escape. I stare at the woman in white staring back at me... a stranger in lace and diamonds. My reflection looks beautiful, like something out of a glossy bridal magazine. Perfectly curled lashes, lips painted in deep red, hair pinned back into an elegant bun that exposes the vulnerable curve of my neck. A glittering tiara rests heavy on my head, weighing me down like a crown of chains. Everyone would say I look like a princess. But inside, I feel like a prisoner. I clench the bouquet of roses so tightly the stems dig into my palms, their thorns biting through the thin silk of my gloves. The sharp sting grounds me, reminding me that this isn’t a dream. I’m awake. I’m trapped. “Do I really have to do this?” I whisper to no one, my voice trembling as it escapes my lips. The door opens with a soft creak, and my mother steps inside. Her heels click against the marble, her perfume... expensive, sharp... ann

AMARA'S P.O.VThe night was quiet, too quiet.I sat on the edge of the massive bed, the satin sheets pooling around me like waves I couldn’t drown in. The clock on the wall ticked mercilessly, every second pressing against my chest. Midnight had come and gone, but Marcus still hadn’t returned.I tried to tell myself he was busy. That maybe he’d fallen asleep in his office, buried in papers and numbers, the way he always claimed to be. But deep down, I knew. Wives always know.I pulled the robe tighter around myself, my bare feet brushing against the cold marble floor as I stood. My body moved before my mind could catch up, carrying me through the hushed hallway of the De Guzman mansion. The portraits of ancestors lined the walls, each painted face staring at me with silent judgment. I hated them. I hated how small they made me feel.And then, a sound pierced the silence.Laughter. Feminine, high pitched, muffled through a half open door.I froze, my heart hammering in my throat. No. P

AMARA'S P.O.V “Why pretend you don’t want me, Amara?” Luke’s words hung heavy in the air, suffocating me. His body caged mine against the cold wall of the kitchen, his breath hot against my lips. My chest rose and fell too quickly, the space between us electric, unbearable. I swallowed hard, trying to summon strength I didn’t feel. “You’re insane.” He smirked, that infuriating curve of his mouth I couldn’t look away from. “Insane for you? Maybe.” “Stop,” I whispered, though my palms pressed weakly against his chest instead of shoving him. His heartbeat thudded under my fingertips, steady, unbothered, as if he knew I wouldn’t push him away. “Stop pretending, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low, coaxing. “Your body already betrayed you.” Anger flared through me, a last defense against the dizzying pull he had over me. “You think you’re irresistible? That every woman wants you? You’re arrogant.” His smirk faded into something sharper, darker. “No. I don’t think every woman wants

AMARA’S P.O.VThe silence after Marcus left was heavier than any scream.I stood there in the middle of the kitchen, hugging myself, my tears falling faster than I could wipe them away. My whole body trembled, not just from what had happened...but from the realization that nothing would ever be the same again.Marcus’s words echoed inside me like broken glass.A mistake. I was a mistake.My chest tightened until breathing felt like punishment.Luke was still there, leaning against the counter where Marcus had shoved him, his expression unreadable. His presence felt like fire...dangerous, consuming...but also like the only warmth left in the freezing room.“Amara...” His voice was soft now, stripped of the arrogance he had moments ago.I shook my head violently, pressing my palms over my ears. “Don’t. Please, don’t talk.”But he took a step closer anyway. I could feel the pull of him, the gravity that terrified me more than Marcus’s rage ever could.“I didn’t mean for it to get this fa

AMARA’S P.O.V I stared at the photo until my vision blurred. Marcus. My Marcus. Sitting in a hotel bar, a woman leaning into him like she had every right to. Her hand rested too close, her smile too knowing. The image was grainy, but it didn’t need to be clear. My chest already knew what my mind refused to accept. It wasn’t just guilt burning in me anymore. It was something heavier, uglier...betrayal. I let out a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh, wasn’t quite a sob. “So this is it? This is how you repay me?” The words felt hollow in the silence, bouncing back at me from the walls. The mansion was so quiet it almost mocked me. “You see it now, don’t you?” I spun around. Luke. He was in the doorway like he owned the place, hands in his pockets, posture too relaxed for someone who knew he was crossing a line. “How long have you been there?” My voice cracked, sharp and shaky at once. He tilted his head, studying me the way one studies a crack in glass. “Long enough to