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Eight
publish date:
2026-08-07 20:06:09
Latest chapter
Married To My Dead Husband Brother Eleven
The dream started soft.I was back in our bed, the sheets cool against my skin, the room filled with that familiar scent of him, rain and something darker. Lucian’s voice came low and rough near my ear.“Spread your legs, baby.”I did. I couldn’t help it. My thighs parted for him like they already knew what he wanted. His mouth hovered over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, warm breath ghosting across the place that made my stomach tighten. I moaned, the sound slipping out before I could stop it, and arched my back against the mattress. His hands held my hips steady as his mouth moved higher. He kissed the soft skin there, then licked a slow line that made my toes curl. When his tongue finally found me, I gasped. He ate me like he had all the time in the world, slow, thorough, relentless. One finger slid inside, then another, curling just right while his tongue kept working. My hips moved on their own. Soft, broken sounds kept leaving my throat. His name. Over and over.“Lucian…”
Married To My Dead Husband Brother Ten
The last thing I remembered was the solid warmth of Lucian’s chest under my cheek and the quiet way his hand kept stroking the back of my head. After that, everything went dark. I must have cried myself into exhaustion. One moment I was still clutching his shirt, tears soaking into the fabric, and the next there was only the heavy pull of sleep. I didn’t feel him lift me off the desk. I didn’t hear the soft orders he gave his men. I didn’t see the way the entire eightieth floor went still as he walked out of his office with me in his arms. But the staff did. They watched with sideways glances as their boss, the man who never brought anyone into the building, the man who barely looked at the women who tried to get close, carried a sleeping girl toward the private elevator. Bodyguards formed a tight circle around them. No one dared speak while he was still there. The moment the elevator doors closed and the car disappeared into the underground parking, the whispers started. “Did yo
Married To My Dead Husband Brother Nine
“I said who the fuck are you.” The woman’s voice cracked across the quiet office like a slap. I jerked so hard the book slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a soft thud. My body moved on pure instinct. Years of Adrian’s sudden rages had trained me that way. I scrambled to my feet, heart slamming against my ribs so hard it hurt to breathe. “I… I… I…” The words wouldn’t come. My throat locked. My hands shook at my sides. I could feel the old panic rising fast, the same helpless feeling that used to swallow me whole every time Adrian’s footsteps got too loud in the hallway. She cut me off with a sharp, ugly laugh. “Oh. You’re one of those whores trying to get close to Lucian.” Her heels clicked closer across the polished floor. “I’m going to teach you a lesson.” She reached for my hair. I flinched so hard my back hit the edge of the couch. My eyes squeezed shut. For a split second I wasn’t standing in a glass office on the eightieth floor anymore. I was back in the Blackw
Married To My Dead Husband Brother Eight
The next morning Lucian was already at the table when I came downstairs. Two places were set again. He sat reading something on his phone, a cup of black coffee in front of him. When I took the chair across from him he glanced up once, then went back to the screen. We ate in near silence. The only sounds were the soft clink of cutlery and the distant movement of staff in the kitchen. I kept my eyes on my plate, still thinking about the way he had carried me from the library the night before and the words he had whispered while I slept. Halfway through the meal he set his phone down. “You’re coming to the company with me today.” I looked up, surprised. “Your company?” He gave a short nod. “Yes. Be ready in twenty minutes.” I swallowed the last of my toast and nodded. “Okay.” Part of me wanted to ask why. Another part of me knew better. Lucian Blackwood didn’t explain himself. He simply decided, and the rest of the world adjusted. Thirty minutes later we were in the back of a bl
Married To My Dead Husband Brother Seven
After Lucian left that morning, the big room felt even larger and colder. I stayed in bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling, replaying the blood on the living room floor and the way he had ordered me back upstairs without even turning around. The fear still sat under my skin like a second pulse. Eventually I forced myself up. I needed to move. Staying still only made the thoughts louder. The bathroom was as luxurious as everything else in this place, marble, glass, soft lighting. I stood under the hot water until my skin turned pink, trying to wash away the memory of the bleeding man and Lucian’s cold voice. It didn’t work. When I stepped out and dried off, I found fresh clothes already laid out for me on the counter: soft black leggings and a simple cream sweater that felt expensive against my skin. Someone had been in the room while I slept. The thought made me uneasy. Breakfast was waiting when I finally went downstairs. A quiet maid with kind eyes directed me to a smaller
Married To My Dead Husband Brother Six
The gunshot still rang in my ears as I slipped out of the bed. My bare feet touched the cold floor. The nightgown clung to my skin, thin and useless against the sudden chill that had nothing to do with the air conditioning. Arguments still floated up from downstairs, low, harsh voices, the scrape of something heavy being moved. My heart hammered so hard it felt like it might crack my ribs. I told myself to stay put. Lucian had said not to wait up. He had told me he would be late. But the single gunshot had ripped through the quiet of the mansion like a scream, and the part of me that had learned to survive under Adrian’s fists refused to stay blind. I pulled the door open just enough to slip through and moved down the long hallway. The lights were dim. Shadows stretched along the walls. Every step felt too loud. The staircase curved downward into the main floor, and the closer I got, the clearer the voices became. One of them was Lucian’s, cold, controlled, the same tone he had
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