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1. CAELEN IS KIDNAPPED
Huling Na-update:
2025-07-02 14:36:57CAELEN VALENTINE’S POV
Pain...
That’s all I feel.
A dull, soul-splitting kind of pain, dragging nausea up through my throat and crashing into my skull. The air is ice. It lashes my bare skin, each sting like a cold blade carving into me. And then— A blinding light. Focused. Hot. Cruel.I try to open my eyes. But all I see is darkness. Thick. Heavy. Infinite.
After what feels like forever, my vision sharpens—just enough to realize the horror.
I’m naked, strung upside down by thick jute rope, the fibers digging through my skin like thorns.
My body is a battlefield—bruised, scratched, covered in red and purplish welts. Like I fought a bear and lost. Badly.I squint into the blackness, trying to cut through it with my gaze.
And I feel him before I see him.Someone’s there. Watching me. Silent. Still.
But the weight of his gaze? It sends a cold crawl down my spine.“W-Who’s there?” I stammer, my voice shaking in the stillness.
Nothing.
“Who’s there?!” I ask again, stronger. But no response.
Then—
A flicker of flame. A cigar is lit.For a second, I catch a glimpse of the figure’s jaw—cut sharp like it was sculpted from stone. His lips curl into a dark smirk as the fire glows in the shadows.
He starts to walk toward me, smoke swirling around him. Cigar in his mouth. One hand in his pocket.As he steps into the light, I see his face fully.
And gods, I wish I hadn’t.Lucien Thorne.
To the surface world, he’s the celebrated heir to Thorne Industries, known for revolutionizing textiles and tech.
But to those who matter? He’s the true Godfather of the underground—ruthless, untouchable, and utterly emotionless.Rumor has it he never blinks. Never hesitates.
Even his own men call him “the Machine.”He stands at 6'5, massive, broad—like a god sculpted in iron and tailored in Armani.
Not that I’m short, but next to him? I feel like prey.I’ve heard women talk about him like he’s a walking fantasy.
And I get it now.Jet black eyes, devil-crafted bone structure, and a smile that makes you feel like sin.Even in agony, my heart does something stupid.
It skips.But behind all that beauty?
A monster. The kind you only read about in legends or see in nightmares. A man who’d kill you for breathing wrong.They don’t call him the Devil’s Heir for nothing.
As my brain scrambles for logic, he moves even closer—his face now inches from mine.
Just one shift and we’d recreate that infamous Spider-Man kiss.Except I’m not a superhero.
I’m a man about to be torn apart.And then—suddenly—I crash to the floor.
Mouth full of dirt and blood.Rope sliced.He must’ve cut me loose.
I writhe in agony.
Before I can move, he grabs a fistful of my hair, yanks me upright, drags me onto my knees.
The way he manhandled me, I am sure this man is into bdsm.
Brutal. Harsh. But Savagely handsome.
These words define him the best.
I scream.
Because I swear I felt every nerve tear.This man doesn’t hit.
He devours.“How dare you lay your filthy hands on my sister?”
His tone is nonchalant. Like he’s asking the time.Sister? What sister?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I manage, voice trembling.
He just hums, takes another long puff of his cigar.
“You don’t know what I’m talking about?”
His smirk grows.“You will. Very soon.”I’m doomed.
Whatever I’ve done—I'm about to pay for it.From behind him, a shadow moves.
One of his men—I assume—grabs me by the neck and drags me toward a steel tank filled to the brim.Water.
No.
No, no, no.Before I can struggle, my head is shoved down.
Submerged.I flail—panicking, choking.
My lungs scream for air.“Enough.”
Lucien’s voice slices through the chamber.The man lets go instantly.
I collapse, coughing, gasping, trembling on the floor.
Lucien crouches down beside me.
Too close again. His eyes burn like black fire.“Now you remember my sister?”
The words are razor-sharp.I nod.
Barely.Because yes—now I remember her.
FLASHBACK
Two months ago.
A club.It was called Dark Vibe—fitting name for a place dripping in smoke, neon, and sin.
The music was loud. The people wilder.Everyone was high on something—lust, alcohol, maybe both.
I sat in the corner, drowning in whiskey, freshly dumped by my ex.
She left me for my so-called best friend, Rayan.
The bastard.Maybe it was always in the cards.
Maybe she had eyes for him all along.I didn’t care.
I just wanted to forget.And then—I saw her.
A gorgeous girl, early twenties, wearing a black dress so short it didn’t bother pretending.
Cleavage on display, hips that didn’t lie, and a quiet storm behind her eyes.She sat beside me.
Ordered a whiskey on the rocks.Power move. I liked it.
Even through my haze, I noticed her light honey eyes shining with unshed tears.
“Hey, beautiful,” I said, flashing my best charming grin.
“Can I buy you a drink?”She turned her head. Calm. Controlled.
“No, thanks. I’m good. Just enjoying the music.”
Playing hard to get?
“Mind if I enjoy it with you? Maybe we could dance?” I pressed.
“I don’t know… I’m not really a dancer.” She hesitated.
“Then may I have the honor of teaching you, my lady?”
She chuckled.I was in.
We danced. We laughed.
Drinks flowed. Touches lingered. Heat rose.Eventually—we tumbled into bed.
It was intense.
Raw. Wild. No limits.No names.
No regrets.But when I woke up—
She was gone.
No number.
No goodbye. Just sheets that smelled like her.And now?
I’m here.Bruised. Beaten. Broken.And I finally know who she was.
Aria Thorne.
Lucien Thorne’s sister.
And I?
I’m the idiot who touched what was forbidden.
Pinakabagong kabanata
MY BROTHER-IN-LAW 47. GALA PREPARATION
Lucian’s POVThe mansion was humming with preparations.White-gloved staff moving like clockwork, chandeliers being polished, cases of champagne arriving by the hour, gilded invitations delivered to the most dangerous men and women alive.The underworld’s most untouchable names would soon gather under my roof to witness what no one ever thought would happen:Lucian Thorne relinquishing his throne.I stood at the window of my study, hands clasped behind my back, watching them drape black velvet over the railings of the grand staircase. My reflection in the glass looked calm. Immaculate. Like a man in complete control.It was a lie.Inside, my chest was tight with a feeling I couldn’t name.For years, my word was law in this world. I’d built this empire myself — brick by bloody brick. I’d been judge, jury, and executioner to half the men who’d be standing in this very room tomorrow night.And now, by my own hand, I was handing it all to a man I still couldn’t fully read.Caisen Valentin
MY BROTHER-IN-LAW 46. A DATE
CAELEN VALENTINE'S POVThe moment we slid into the car, Lucian’s hand came to rest possessively on my thigh.He didn’t say anything.Didn’t need to.The air between us was already heavy — a mixture of that little parking lot spectacle, the way he’d kissed me in front of them, and the way his fingers flexed slightly against me now, as though he was reminding himself that I was his.He drove us out of the city, the Range Rover humming steadily beneath us, his profile sharp against the late afternoon light. Sunglasses back on, jaw tight, Hawaiian shirt and all — and still somehow managing to look every bit the predator he was.I let my eyes wander over him — the faint furrow in his brow, the corded strength in his forearms as he gripped the wheel, the glint of something unreadable in his eyes every time he glanced at me.And damn if that didn’t send a shiver down my spine.After about thirty minutes, the urban sprawl melted into winding coastal roads. White cliffs, crashing waves, and a
MY BROTHER-IN-LAW 45. HAWAIIAN SHIRT
Caelen’s POVNext day.I stood in front of the mirror, fingers paused over the collar of my shirt as I caught sight of him behind me.We were getting ready for our “date.” And I’ll admit, part of me thought he’d cancel at the last minute, blame it on some underworld emergency, put his jacket back on and disappear into a boardroom or a warehouse somewhere. That’s what Lucian does — he wears suits like they’re a second skin, carries them like armor.Even at home, when he sheds the armor, it’s never entirely gone. He lounges in t-shirts and sweatpants, yes, but there’s always that edge in his shoulders, that cold calculation in his eyes — like even barefoot in the kitchen he’s still that man: the king, the killer.But today…When he stepped into the room, I froze.Not because he was dangerous. Not because he scared me. But because — for the first time — he didn’t look like the man who ran empires and spilled blood.He looked… like someone’s lover.He wore a ridiculous Hawaiian shirt — pi
MY BROTHER-IN-LAW 44. LUCIAN'S LOVE TOWARDS CAELEN
LUCIAN THRONE'S POVThe meetings were finally done.The sun was setting over the skyline when we slipped back into the Range Rover.I drove this time, hands steady on the wheel, but my mind was elsewhere — on Caelen waiting for me at home, probably with paint smudged on his fingers again.Caisen, for once, was quiet beside me. He leaned his head back against the seat, staring out the tinted window, his fingers drumming lightly on his thigh.Then, out of nowhere, his voice cut through the silence."When did you start loving my brother?"I blinked, taken aback.Caisen didn’t even look at me — just kept his eyes fixed on the dark horizon."How did you know it was love?" he added, almost as if he regretted asking but couldn’t stop himself now.I exhaled slowly, gripping the wheel a little tighter, remembering.It wasn’t a moment I liked to share.But if anyone deserved the truth… it was this insolent, maddening little thorn who was also my lover’s brother.“When I first spoke to him,” I a
MY BROTHER-IN-LAW 43. LUCIAN'S RETIREMENT
LUCAIN THRONE'S POVThe week blurred into a haze of negotiations, handshakes, and strategy sessions.From the outside, it might’ve looked like I was still ruling with the same iron fist — the same cold authority that had built this empire in the shadows. But this was different.I wasn’t fighting to expand anymore. I was fighting to secure my exit.Every morning I left the mansion before Caelen was even fully awake. Every night I returned long after he’d fallen asleep on my side of the bed — though most nights, I found him waiting in my art studio, his body curled up in the corner, pretending he hadn’t dozed off waiting for me.He never complained, but his quiet eyes said enough.I hated it.Yet this was necessary.For Caisen to take the throne I’d built, I needed to make sure the ground beneath him was stable — and for me to walk away without looking over my shoulder every second, I needed to lock in alliances of my own.I didn’t want to become the kind of man who’d one day have to cr
MY BROTHER-IN-LAW 42. LUCIAN'S CARE
LUCIAN THRONE'S POVI woke up to the faint morning light spilling through the heavy curtains. My body felt warm, heavy, and sore in ways I hadn’t felt in years.Beside me, Lucian lay on his side, still asleep, his arm draped over my waist. Even in sleep, he looked impossibly composed — his lashes casting shadows on his cheek, his lips slightly parted.For a moment, I just watched him breathe.My back ached faintly, and when I shifted, a sharper soreness radiated lower — between my thighs, a tender reminder of just how far we had pushed each other last night.I exhaled slowly, a small, rueful smile tugging at my lips.Maybe the revenge, the blood, the intensity… it all got to me. I remembered the way I had provoked him — daring him, clawing at him, demanding more and more until neither of us could stop.I’d crossed my own limits, and his.And yet — I didn’t regret a single second.Carefully, I slipped out of bed, wincing a little as I stood. My legs felt shaky, my skin still warm and s
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