LOGINShare
Chapter 2: Enemies Under One Roof
publish date:
2025-12-02 11:04:06The next morning, sunlight streamed through the thin curtains. It hit Julia straight in the eyes, merciless and far too bright. She groaned, rolling onto her side—then froze as pain flared through her shoulders.
Right. Last night.
She pushed herself up slowly, wincing at the soreness in her arms from hauling a full-grown man up three flights of stairs. Her tiny apartment felt unfamiliar in the daylight, too quiet, too crowded. The air smelled faintly of rain… and whiskey.
Julia padded into the living room—and nearly tripped over herself.
Brandon sat on her couch, alive and very much awake, one ankle resting casually on his knee as he scrolled through his phone like he owned the place. His tuxedo was gone, replaced by a wrinkled dress shirt he’d clearly slept in. Dark hair fell into his eyes, giving him a lazy, irritatingly handsome look that made her teeth itch.
“Oh good,” he said without looking up. “You’re awake. Where’s breakfast?”
Julia stared at him, brain short-circuiting. “Excuse me?”
He finally glanced up, brows lifting with mild surprise. “You dragged me in. I assumed you’d at least have the decency to serve your guest a meal.”
Her eye twitched.
She marched into the kitchenette, yanked open a cupboard, and grabbed the nearest thing she could find—a pack of instant noodles. She tossed it onto his lap.
“There’s your breakfast. Hot water’s in the kettle. You can read the instructions, right, Mr. Heir?”
Brandon blinked down at the packet, then back at her. “You expect me to cook this… this peasant food myself?”
“Congratulations,” Julia said sweetly, folding her arms. “You’re catching on.”
He squinted at the packaging like it was written in another language. Slowly, carefully, he tore it open—only to rip the seasoning packet too. Powder spilled across the counter.
Julia winced as he poked at the kettle, lifting the lid with his bare hand.
“Hot!” he yelped, shaking his fingers.
She snorted. “You’ve never boiled water before, have you?”
“I have chefs,” he shot back defensively.
He dumped the dry noodles into a mug, poured hot water halfway, then frowned when he realized something was missing. He tried sprinkling the seasoning in, most of it sticking to the rim. The smell of half-cooked noodles filled the apartment.
Julia watched for three seconds before bursting out laughing.
“You—pfft—you really don’t know how to make instant noodles? This is basic survival 101!”
Brandon scowled, cheeks reddening as he slurped a soggy strand. “It tastes like cardboard.”
“That’s because you messed it up,” she said, leaning against the counter. “Consider it karma.”
Her laughter faded when her eyes landed on the stack of unopened bills on the dining table. Utility notices. Rent reminders. Red stamps screaming overdue.
She crossed the room quickly and shoved them under a magazine.
Too late.
The weight pressed against her chest anyway. Double shifts. Skipped meals. Counting coins like they were lifelines. Pride kept her from borrowing, but pride didn’t pay landlords.
“Eat your noodles and get out,” she said flatly. “I have work.”
Brandon tilted his head, studying her. Not mocking. Not amused. Sharp. Like he was peeling back layers she’d spent years building.
Before she could snap at him again, a heavy knock rattled the front door.
“Miss Julia! Rent’s due today. No more extensions!”
Her stomach dropped.
She forced a smile as she cracked the door open. “Mr. Lee, I—I just need a few more days—”
“No more excuses,” the landlord snapped. “By tomorrow, or you’re out. I’ve been patient, but patience doesn’t pay bills.”
The door slammed shut.
Julia stood there, hand still on the knob, lungs burning as if she’d forgotten how to breathe. Her chest rose and fell in shallow bursts.
Behind her, Brandon leaned against the couch, arms crossed. Sunlight caught in his messy hair, shadowing his expression—but his lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.
“So,” he said softly. “You’re broke.”
Her head snapped toward him. “Shut up.”
“It’s an observation.”
“It’s none of your business.”
He stepped closer, voice lowering. “What if I make it my business? I’ll pay your rent.”
Julia froze.
He continued, calm and deliberate. “In exchange, let me stay here. Just temporarily. Until things… settle down.”
Her pulse thundered in her ears. The audacity. The humiliation. Depending on him—of all people.
“Are you insane?” she demanded.
“Probably,” he said lightly. “But I’ve got nowhere else to go. And you”—his gaze flicked meaningfully to the door—“can’t afford to kick me out.”
She hated that he was right.
Her jaw tightened. Every instinct screamed no. But eviction loomed like a guillotine.
“Ground rules,” she said finally. “You don’t touch my stuff. You don’t bring anyone here. You don’t act like you own this place.”
Brandon smiled wider. “Deal.”
She pointed at him. “And you sleep on the couch.”
“I wouldn’t dare steal your luxurious bed.”
Julia exhaled sharply, turning away before he could see the crack in her armor.
Her rent. His money.
Her pride. His audacity.
Enemies under one roof.
The game had just begun.
Latest chapter
Falling for the Disgraced Heir Chapter 200: We Learned to Dance in It
The rain is light, almost hesitant, the kind that feels like an afterthought rather than a storm. It drifts down in thin silver lines, blurring the edges of the street and softening the sharpness of the world. Julia steps beneath the awning and lifts her face just enough to feel the cool mist brush her skin.For the first time, it doesn’t feel like a warning.Brandon stands beside her, close enough that their shoulders nearly touch. Close enough that she’s aware of the heat of him even as the air cools. The city around them is quieter than it has been in years—no sirens, no reporters, no tension humming beneath every sound. Just rain, breath, and the steady presence of someone who stayed.She exhales. “Is this really it?”He turns his head slightly. “What do you mean?”“All of it,” she says. “The trials. The fallout. The waiting for something else to explode.” Her fingers curl against the edge of her coat. “Does it ever end?”The question has lived in her for years. It’s shaped her ch
Falling for the Disgraced Heir Chapter 199: What We Keep
Julia stands at the bedroom window long after the rain has softened into mist, watching the garden lights blur and steady again, blur and steady, like breath learning a new rhythm. The house is quiet in a way it has never been before—not emptied, not abandoned, but finally unbraced.Behind her, Brandon closes the door without a sound.She doesn’t turn. “I used to think silence meant something bad was about to happen.”“I know,” he says gently. “You listened for impact.”She nods once. The truth of it settles heavy in her chest. “Now it feels like… standing on the edge of something beautiful and waiting for it to disappear.”He moves closer, slow, deliberate, as if approaching a wild thing that might spook if handled too quickly. “You don’t trust the calm.”“I don’t trust myself inside it,” she admits. “I don’t know who I am when I’m not fighting.”Brandon stops just behind her. Not touching yet. Letting the space speak first. “You’re the same woman who survived the fight,” he says. “T
Falling for the Disgraced Heir Chapter 198: The Rain That Stayed
The rain has already soaked through Arthur’s jacket by the time he finds Sophia on the terrace, standing beneath a bare tree with no umbrella, as if she’d decided not to negotiate with the weather at all.“Sophia,” he says, breath catching—not from the cold, but from the sight of her turning toward him, hair darkened by rain, eyes too steady for how much he’s about to risk.She doesn’t move to greet him. “You’re late.”“I know.” He stops a few feet away, rain threading down his jaw, pooling at his collar. “I needed to be sure I wasn’t saying this just because everything else finally stopped.”Her mouth curves, not quite a smile. “Timing has always been your enemy.”“And my excuse,” he admits. “That’s why I’m here now. Before I lose the nerve again.”The rain thickens, drumming softly around them. Arthur feels the familiar instinct to retreat—to wait for better conditions, clearer signs—but something in her stillness tells him there will never be a perfect moment. Only chosen ones.“I’
Falling for the Disgraced Heir Chapter 197: Under Separate Umbrellas
The rain begins before the cars even stop, fine and persistent, blurring the edges of the driveway as umbrellas open one by one like cautious declarations.Julia stands beneath the awning, fingers curled around the stem of her glass, watching her parents arrive from opposite directions. Her mother steps out first, posture composed, eyes already scanning for exits. Her father follows minutes later, slower, shoulders tight beneath his coat. They do not look at each other.Neither does she ask them to.“Everyone’s here,” Brandon murmurs beside her.His voice is low, steady—an anchor. She doesn’t look at him yet, only nods as her breath fogs the cool air. The space between her parents feels louder than the rain, filled with years of sentences never finished.“Do you want me to—” Brandon starts.“No,” she says gently. “Let them come to it themselves.”He watches her for a beat, then nods. “I’ll stay close.”They step forward together, not hand in hand yet, but aligned. The gathering is sma
Falling for the Disgraced Heir Chapter 196: The Celebration That Isn’t a Wedding
The dress hangs from the wardrobe door, pale fabric catching the early light, and Julia feels the weight of it before she ever touches it.“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Brandon says quietly from behind her. “Only what you decide.”She doesn’t turn right away. Outside, the sky is low and bruised with rain that hasn’t fallen yet. The house is still, holding its breath. This was supposed to be simple—a private vow renewal, no announcements, no spectacle. A promise reclaimed, not performed.Yet her chest tightens anyway.“I know,” she says. “That’s what scares me.”He steps closer, not touching her yet. The space between them hums, familiar and new all at once. “Talk to me.”Julia exhales slowly. “Every time I’ve stood in a dress like that,” she says, nodding toward the fabric, “it was because someone expected me to become something. A wife. A symbol. Proof that everything broken before had been fixed.”“And this time?” Brandon asks.“This time there’s nothing to fix.” Her voice wav
Falling for the Disgraced Heir Chapter 195: Readiness
The meeting ends with the quiet scrape of chairs and the soft click of a folder closing—no raised voices, no catharsis, no apology brave enough to matter.Julia stands when it’s done, smoothing her coat out of habit more than need. The man across the table offers a polite nod, the kind reserved for transactions that have reached their natural conclusion. No reconciliation. No attempt to soften what was never meant to heal.“Then we’re finished,” he says.“Yes,” Julia replies, steady. “We are.”She doesn’t wait for anything else. She turns, walks toward the door, and only when her hand closes around the handle does she feel it—the ache of finality settling low and slow in her chest. An ending without witnesses. An ending that offers no applause.The hallway outside is empty, fluorescent lights humming softly. Brandon straightens from where he’s been leaning against the wall, attention sharpening the moment he sees her face.“Done?” he asks.“Yes.”“That was… quiet.”She exhales, almost
Falling for the Disgraced Heir Chapter 36: Father’s Shadow
The envelope felt heavier than paper should. The driver’s shoes gleamed against the cracked tile floor of the cramped studio, immaculate and deliberate—a piece of the world Brandon had walked away from. He held out the envelope like it might burn him.“Your father sends his regards,” the man said,
Falling for the Disgraced Heir Chapter 35: Headlines Again
The scream of the morning alarm wasn’t what woke Julia—it was her phone. Buzz after buzz, the vibration rattled against the nightstand like a desperate pulse.
Falling for the Disgraced Heir Chapter 34: Name and Nothing Else
he air smelled faintly of smoke and rain. Julia followed the thin trail curling above the fence, her steps slowing as she turned the corner into the backyard.Brandon stood by a rusted tin barrel, sleeves rolled up, the
Falling for the Disgraced Heir Chapter 33: Rumors Reversed
The market was already alive when Julia arrived—voices rising, carts clattering, and the smell of rain-soaked fruit mixing with diesel fumes. She wasn’t looking for him. At least, that’s what she told herself.
You may also like
The Three Little Guardian Angels
Ginger Bud3.2M viewsCraving The Wrong Brother
Elysian Sparrow561.4K viewsHIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back)
Major_Canis1.2M viewsDivorced My Cheating Husband, Married A Billionaire
LiLhyz802.5K viewsCLAIMED BY THE BILLIONAIRE
Joy Cherish 28 viewsTHE WIFE HE LOST TOO LATE: I DON'T NEED YOUR REGRET MR. CEO
Cyra McKenzie9 viewsMr. Billionaire Wants His Dying Wife Back
Vane Emberly84 viewsClaimed By My Ex’s Rival
Quin Gee7 views
