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Chapter 10: Crossing Lines And Power Plays.
Last Updated:
2026-01-04 23:45:04
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Dealing With The Other Brother. Chapter 52— What Would You Do?
~SARA~ "Here you go, ma'am," the gentleman says, handing the bag of ice to me. I take it and press it to my cheek, wincing at the sting as I adjust myself on the table. "You're lucky the contents of the mist were just pepper spray," he continues, taking a step back. "The effect should be wearing off by now." Yeah, right. Through my almost-cleared vision, I take a look at him. Black suit. Black shoes. White shirt tucked in neatly. A tie. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. About six feet tall. Alex is slightly taller. I press the ice against my cheek again. "I don't think we've been introduced?" He clears his throat and place one palm over the other, standing at ease. "Joseph Cain. The new guard assigned for your protection." I nod. "Well, Joseph, nice to meet you." He nods in return. I shift as if to get off the table, then pause. "Oh. And thank you for helping me with the… little altercation earlier." He nods again. "You're welcome, ma'am." Silence. I clap my hands lightly and ho
Dealing With The Other Brother. Chapter 51— The Stalker Is Always Near.
~SARA~Air leaves my lungs.A chilling sensation runs down my spine and cold beads of sweat spread across my temple.Jeremy is talking, but I don't hear what he says. I only watch his mouth move, every other sound in the room fading into background noise.Mira nods along to Jeremy’s presentation.Someone laughs in the background.My fingers tighten around my phone, the coldness of it feeling so heavy and oppressive in my palm.Quietly, I press the power button.The screen goes black.I straighten and flash a smile at Jeremy, forcing my expression into something neutral."So with the right cross platform strategy," Jeremy says, clicking to the next slide, "we can expect a forty percent engagement increase within three mont—""Impressive," I interject abruptly, nodding along, a stiff smile plastered across my face.They all turn to me.Jeremy blinks, confused."Erm," Mira says, glancing from the influencers to me with an awkward laugh. "Love the enthusiasm?"My phone vibrates again. I g
Dealing With The Other Brother. Chapter 50— Breakfast And Bombshells.
~SARA~Morning.The maids move quietly around the dining room, placing plates of eggs, toast and fruits in front of everyone like yesterday's dinner hadn't ended in chaos.Jason and Mira sit opposite Alex and I, their backs straight, faces stiff. Mira doesn’t look at me. Jason avoids everyone’s eyes.Mrs. Ford sits at the far end of the table, shoulders squared, jaw locked, staring down at her plate like the food personally offended her.Alex sits beside me, his expression unreadable, cutting into his eggs like nothing in this world can shake him.While Sir Alex Sr.— who I notice has been wearing a smug amusing look since we arrived at the table— eats like a king watching a stage play.He dabs his mouth with a napkin and looks around the table.A grin spreads across his face.“Last night was very entertaining,” he says casually, as if talking about the weather. “Why don’t we have another round this morning?”No one responds.Mrs. Ford shoots him a murderous glares.He smirks. "Sara?
Dealing With The Other Brother. Chapter 49— Friends Turned Sour.
Senior Year... High School.Ten Years Ago.~SARA~Friendships are like wheels. Together, they flow seamlessly. Apart, they become a colossal disaster. And just like every other group of girl besties around the world, ours was forged on loyalty.A bond not signaled with words but somehow... felt.A group of girls bonded by love, sworn to be ride-or-die for one another.But like the darkest nights that are devoured with the rise of the sun, so too are the brightest of days engulfed by darkness at sunset.And on that day, as she beamed at me at the boarding affairs office, I never imagined that starting a friendship with this young, bubbly girl. A girl who seemed to have no care in the world, would lead to a horror that I would have to carry with me...For the rest of my days.Stamp!"You've been assigned to the diamond block," the boarding affairs manager says, stamping the documents.She slides them to me. "All necessities and wants of yours—except for personal items—will be taken car
Dealing With The Other Brother. Chapter 48— We All Have Our Dirty Secrets.
~SARA~I don’t know if I’m breathing or not.For several seconds, the room goes completely still—everyone frozen mid-motion, stunned.Cold beads of sweat form on my forehead. I tighten my hold around my fork until my knuckles turn white.Clink.Alex drops his cutlery, his brow knitting into a deep frown.He grunts. “Say that again.”“Sara had an abortion,” Mira beams. "When we were in high school.”A lump forms in my throat.“And you know how?” Alex asks.The question catches her off guard. Her eyes flutter. “Well… you see… we didn’t—”“Ask me to impersonate you during the final exams,” I hiss through clenched teeth, cutting her off. “and in return, take me to your mother’s doctor.”I toss my cutlery onto my plate. My chair screeching against the tiles as I push back and tap my fingers against the table, anger grinding through my bones.“It’s one thing to be a bitch, Mira,” I say coldly. “But reopening old wounds just to hurt me is a whole new level of low. Even for you.”She pouts an
Dealing With The Other Brother. Chapter 47— Abortion?
~SARA~The dining room behind me—at the other section of the hall—buzzes with activity as the servants set the cutlery on the table.I sit on the edge of a velvet couch, hands folded in my lap, eyes drifting aimlessly around the room.The whole place screams money. Velvet couches, a chandelier overhead, tall windows stretching from floor to ceiling.Just then, I hear footsteps approach from behind.I don’t bother to turn . The familiar steps of evil and mischief tells me all I need to know.Jason.“Sara.”I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath, snapping them open as I turn.He stands at the doorway that separates the sitting room from the rest of the hall.He’s wearing a white cotton T-shirt—the kind elites wear at golf clubs. His hands are tucked into matching trousers, and his ginger-brown hair—those strands I once gushed over—is left deliberately ruffled.My brows narrow. “What the hell do you want?”He chuckles softly and steps inside, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.“I
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