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CHAPTER 129: The Man At The Door
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2025-06-15 05:34:43
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Craving The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 129: The Man At The Door
There’s a stretch of silence. Long enough for me to weigh the pros and cons. Pro: could be entertaining. Finn, even with his tendency for dramatics, has always been a fun person. Con: definitely ends in an emotional migraine. I take a breath, step aside, and wave him in. He walks past me and heads straight for the record player. He then turns the knob and silences my concert. “Seriously?” I say, arms dropping to my sides. “Seemed a bit loud, don’t you think?” “That’s because it’s my house, and I want it loud.” “Are you, like, permanently here? Or is this some sort of temporary arrangement?” I narrow my eyes, snatch my rice back from the table, and flop onto the couch, legs curled under me. “What do you want, Finn?” He stays by the record player like a statue. “You do one of those manipulation things they do in movies as a therapist?” I blink at him. “What?” “You know. Can you get into my head and change things? Make me forget certain things? That ticking clock and witchcraf
Craving The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 128: One-Man Party
The car slows in front of the same house I’ve known since childhood, and even with four armed men packed into the car with me, it still feels like I’m arriving alone. I shift against the door as the vehicle stops. The moment I step out, I see it—my mother’s car. Parked clean in the middle of the driveway. Knox wasn’t lying. I hate that he wasn’t lying. The guards begin to move when I do, stepping forward like shadows in formation. My hand goes up before they can trail me up the walkway. “This is a very personal business,” I say without turning around. “I’d like for you all to stay right here, okay? I’ll be out soon.” “Boss said we shouldn’t let you out of our sight,” one says. I turn slowly. “This is my father’s house. You think Mateo’s in there?” “Rules, ma’am.” “I’m your boss’s girlfriend,” I say, biting out the word with a little more heat than I intended. “And I’m giving you another rule.” They glance at each other, visibly hesitating, but none of them move when I walk a
Craving The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 127: My Father's Business
By some miracle, I make it to the weekend without picking a full-blown fight with Knox. The weird part is, I’m not even sure why I’m mad. It’s not Knox's fault that some ex-military guy he used to be friends with went full psycho and dragged us into his vendetta. The entire affair had me typing up a resignation letter at my desk in the middle of a workday, claiming terminal illness. Terminal. Illness. I even picked Fiji. Said I wanted to spend the rest of my short life soaking in blue lagoons and drinking out of coconuts. And yes, I typed it on their printer. On company time. Used their office paper. Their ink. That job had been the only stable thing in my life for six years. Same desk. Same chair. Same perfect view of Harper’s resting bitch face through the glass wall of her office, directly across from mine. I’ve been here through it all—birthdays, breakdowns, Finn’s many heartbreak-induced crash outs courtesy of Delilah, nights that ended with me passed out under my desk in t
Craving The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 126: Papa Bear
“Yup,” Knox says without looking up. I reach out, fingers brushing the smooth head sticking out of the packaging. It’s foam. Dense and thick with sculpted features. The head is oval, with bulbous black eyes and a tiny slit for a mouth. “What’s beneath it?” I ask, looking down. He’s already begun tearing downward, slicing open the rest of the wrapping. What emerges is…well. A body. Large. Square. The surface is spongy and cloth-wrapped, shaped like a mattress with two raised mounds on the upper area—clearly meant to resemble alien breasts. The mouth, or whatever that opening is, sits lower on the body, oval-shaped. Webbed limbs extend on both sides, forming legs that bend outward, giving the thing an awkward but strangely endearing posture. My eyes widen as it dawns on me that this is probably mine. Who else likes aliens in this house? I don’t say anything right away. “So,” Knox says casually, “what do you think?” “You got me an alien SpongeBob?” I squeak. “Huh? No. That’s a
Craving The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 125: Alien's Head
*** ~~SLOANE *** Another day, another round of awkward stares at the office—because apparently, everyone on my floor thinks I’m their boss now, even though my cubicle is still right next to theirs. The worst part? I haven’t even accepted the promotion. I haven’t signed anything. But just one rumor, one sighting of me being called upstairs for a private meeting, and now I’m some unspoken corporate deity. And just when I think the day can’t get any more absurd, I step outside after work and find that Knox has doubled my security detail. Two new bodyguards wait beside the usual pair, like I’m some kind of political target instead of a woman just trying to go home from work. I'm afraid to even ask what this means. He got a call from Hunter this morning, and now I’m getting additional security? What did Hunter say to him at his house? I climb into the backseat and get crammed in between two enormous strangers. This car was never designed to seat five full-grown adults. Yet here we ar
Craving The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 124: Banker Mouth
I stare at the wall just past Hunter’s head, my jaw clenched. Well, I guess that settles it. That woman’s going into early retirement—locked in a tower, guarded by a fire-breathing dragon if I can manage it. “He wants to hurt her,” says Hunter. “Maybe even Soraya. She’s stupid enough to think it's a mutual transaction in whatever twisted deal they have going on.” “Mutual transaction?” I ask. “What could she possibly need from him?” He shrugs. “I don’t know. Ask her. But for the record, I think I’m on the list of people he wants to hurt to get to you. So you’re paying for the extra security I hired. I told a psychopath to get lost yesterday and resigned from the CEO position in his company. You definitely owe me.” He turns around and starts climbing again, and I find myself staring at the back of his head while following him up. So this is where we are—Mateo’s decided I’m the scapegoat for what went down all those years ago. Figures. The man clearly skipped therapy and went straigh
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