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91. GRAYSON PITTMAN

Author: AUTHOR_NEON
last update Last Updated: 2025-08-08 01:02:14

CAISEN'S VALENTINE

I left the room and dialed a number.

"Meet me, right now."

"Only if it's important."

"I have got something on my sleeves."

"Meet me at my penthouse."

I hanged up the call and put a message for that slut, Liam Miller.

"I am going to 'I- don't- care's house, if you wish you can land there."

He putted a thumbs up on my message.

I have got all information of Edward's business, his warehouses.

But I am not going to do anything.

Not yet.

I will sit back and watch others destroy him first.

I wasn't stupid enough to play my hand first.

Edward had ruled this city's shadows for decades because his enemies always came at him in rage, too loud, too fast — and he swallowed them alive.

But me?

I don't rage.

I starve you.

Until you crawl to me and beg me to finish you.

So, I left the mansion after checking the folder about the shipment manifests, every name, every crate.

I already had what I needed.

And now it was time to deliver it where it would hurt the most.

Not in my hands.
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  • MY BROTHER-IN-LAW   110. AFTER CARE

    CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVI woke up with a sharp ache radiating from my hips down to my thighs, a dull, insistent throb that made me wince the moment I shifted. My whole body felt wrung out, heavy, and sore, as though I'd been torn apart and stitched back together by hands that didn't know mercy.I tried to sit up but my legs refused to hold me, and I slid unceremoniously to the floor with a muted hiss of pain. The cold marble under my cheek was oddly comforting, and for a second, I lay there, breathing hard, every nerve ending alive with the memory of him.Then I heard the sound of water against tile and the faint scent of mint and smoke filled the air.When I looked up, he emerged from the bathroom — naked, save for a sheen of water and body gel that clung to his skin like liquid fire. Beads of water ran down his chest, over the hard lines of his stomach, glinting on the black ink that marred his ribs.Caisen.His gaze found me instantly, sprawled on the floor like a sinner caught in the

  • MY BROTHER-IN-LAW   109. EDWARD

    EDWARD MILLER'S POVThe office smells like leather and silence. I sit behind my desk, eyes fixed on nothing in particular, fingers drumming softly.The door opens. Not a knock. Not an announcement. Of course not.He walks in — Joshua Anderson, 45-year-old, my right hand. The only man in this cursed city who doesn't lower his gaze when he speaks to me."Edward," he says flatly, dropping a folder onto the desk like it's not worth holding another second.I glance at him. He doesn't flinch. Never does. That's why I keep him around — not just sharp, but unafraid.I pick up the folder lazily, opening it with one hand.Photographs. Reports. Ashes where there should have been empires."You know who it is?" I ask, voice quiet but heavy enough to fill the room.He adjusts his cufflinks, gaze level. "Grayson Pittman."My lip curls into something that isn't quite a smile. Of course it's him."He's thorough," I murmur, flipping to another page — the burned-out shell of one of my warehouses, still

  • MY BROTHER-IN-LAW   108. LITTLE SL*T

    CAISEN VALENTINE'S POV"Caisen... Caisen, please..."God, it was beautiful.His voice wrecked, his body trembling, his eyes wet and wild.I pushed him further, my fingers plunging in and out of him, thumb teasing the sensitive rim as I kissed down his throat.He was gasping now, shameless little whimpers tumbling from his lips between his begging, his moans of my name growing louder, rawer, sweeter."That's right," I murmured into his skin, curling my fingers just to watch his back arch. "Good little slut. Beg for it."His whole body jerked when I added a fourth finger, stretching him so wide he couldn't even speak anymore—just helpless cries of Caisen, Caisen, Caisen until it sounded more like prayer than surrender.And when I felt him tighten and quake beneath me, I leaned close, lips brushing his ear, and whispered:"You were made for me to break."My fingers slid out of him with a wet sound that made him shiver.He whimpered at the loss, hips lifting pathetically, already trying t

  • MY BROTHER-IN-LAW   106. LITTLE MOTH

    CAISEN VALENTINE'S POVMy hands are graved into his hips — no, carved, like I'm trying to etch my name into his very bones. His skin is flushed, bare, slick under my palms as I drag him closer, closer, until there's nothing between us. Nothing but heat and teeth and rage and need.We're on the bed, naked, tangled, violent — kissing like the world is already ash and all we have left is this. Him. Conrad William. My beautiful, doomed obsession.I'm pressing him down, swallowing his breath as he claws at my shoulders. My teeth find his throat and I bite until he gasps — that perfect sound — and then I suck, hard, leaving a hickey so dark it looks like my mark of ownership. Because that's what it is. Mine.I lick the bruise before it even blooms fully, tease the skin with my tongue just to hear him hiss my name. He's trying to fight it — his pride, his shame, the part of him that still thinks he can deny me — but I feel it in his hips, the way they grind back against me when he thinks I'm

  • MY BROTHER-IN-LAW   105. BURN ME

    CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVTwo nights later, I'm in my room.The air smells faintly of smoke, even though I showered twice. Every time I close my eyes, I see his face — and the fire — superimposed on each other like some sick hallucination.I am relying on drugs to survive his cruel absence.I've been waiting for him to come to me. To burst in here. To drag me out by my throat, slam me against a wall, and scream what the fuck I was thinking.But instead — silence.The more I wait, the heavier it gets.I sit on the floor of my living room, knees drawn to my chest, staring at my phone lying on the carpet in front of me. Like it might start ringing if I just stare hard enough.At some point, I mutter under my breath:"Come on. Just fucking come already. Hit me. Kill me. Anything. Just don't..."...Don't leave me like this.And then — sometime past midnight — there's a knock on my door.No. Not a knock. A single, slow thud.I freeze. My pulse spikes so fast it makes my vision blur.I rise to

  • MY BROTHER-IN-LAW   104. THREE WEEKS LATER

    CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVIt's been three weeks since that night.Three weeks since I tried to hit that twat in the middle of the road, with the faint smell of burnt rubber in the air and Caisen's smirk burned into my retinas through the rearview mirror. He didn't even stop. Just watched me from far as I stumbled back onto the accelerator, chest heaving, fingers still trembling with the sick cocktail of jealousy and adrenaline that had left me half feral.And then— Nothing.No messages. No calls. Not even his shadow.It was almost funny at first—this absurd silence from a man who seemed to take up every corner of my life until now. His absence was a contradiction, a puzzle that didn't make sense. Every time my phone buzzed at 2 a.m., I expected it to be him, calling me to some dingy motel room or slamming my back into some wall just because he could.But it was never him.I stared at my phone for hours at my office today, ignoring the spreadsheets that needed approval, ignoring the way

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