Secretly Loving My Adoptive Brother

I stood in the plaza before the Villareal Group headquarters, my gaze fixed on the glass-and-steel tower that soared above the clouds with imperious indifference. Its grandeur seemed to quietly underscore just how small I was in this place. But I curled my fingers into a fist at my side, pushing the feeling away before it could take root. I have to be able to stand on my own two feet, I whispered to myself, a private act of courage. I knew, with clear and unsentimental certainty, that I could not remain beneath the shelter of the Villareal family forever.I had to be independent. I had to be capable of earning my own living. Because one day—when that day finally came, the day I would have to leave and step out of their grand house for the last time—I refused to be adrift. I would already have built a foundation solid enough to hold the weight of my own life.With a long, steadying breath to settle the storm inside me, I walked through the lobby doors. A measure of calm returned. After

After an immense effort to bring my rioting pulse back under some semblance of control, I forced my legs to carry me forward, one slow step at a time. Being this close to Javier—in the intimate hush of the night, with his chest bare—was dissolving what remained of my reason at an alarming rate. But just as I began to move past him, his low baritone split the silence of the kitchen and nailed my feet to the floor.“Why is your face so red?”The question came out short and unhurried, but it carried the weight of something dangerous.On instinct, my fingers flew to my own cheek. He was right—it was burning, radiating a heat that had nothing to do with the kitchen and everything to do with the dream that had woken me.“I’m … I’m perfectly fine,” I managed, my voice coming out small and fractured.Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked out of the kitchen with quick, wide strides. I could not afford to linger near him—not like this, not in the dark and the quiet of the sleeping

“So, will you accept my offer, Camila?”I flinched at the sound of that voice, then shook my head quickly. Was he insane? There was no way I would kiss a man I'd only met a few hours ago.“Then how about this drink?” Pedro said, holding out the glass of thick, dark liquid toward me again.With a trembling, hesitant hand, I took the glass. My mind had gone blank. Forcing this liquor down my throat, I told myself, was far better than kissing a man I felt nothing for.I brought the glass to my lips, the sharp scent of alcohol stinging my nose. But just as the liquid was about to touch my tongue, a strong hand suddenly wrenched the glass from my grip.I looked up, my gaze locking onto his, and my heart seemed to stop beating the instant I realized the man was Javier. I had thought he no longer cared at all, yet here he was, saving me.“Go to your room,” he said, his voice low but carrying an absolute, unshakable authority.“Come on, Javi, she's an adult. Stop locking her up all the

Just like every night before, I dreamed of being intimate with Javier again. Always the same dream — of how my body was touched and explored by him, without mercy.I slowly opened my eyes. Just like always, I couldn't shake the feeling that none of it had been a dream at all. It felt so real — the memory of Javier's hands beginning to touch me, of those broad, powerful hands roaming every curve of my body.But that was clearly impossible. The bedroom door was locked tight from the inside, and my nightclothes were still fully in place. And yet my body had already answered that fantasy with a mind of its own — I was drenched in sweat, and I could feel the damp heat low in my belly.Damn it. I really needed to see a specialist, but I was far too ashamed to admit this strange affliction to anyone.After cleaning myself up and steadying my nerves, I stepped out of the room, dragging my small suitcase behind me. I wanted to go home right now. I couldn't stand being in this place a second lo