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Chapter Ten—Nova
Last Updated:
2025-09-22 02:18:03
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The Wrong Brother Chapter Thirteen—Nova
Mornings in Adrian Castellane’s penthouse felt like stepping into a museum of wealth where everything looked untouchable. The kitchen gleamed—marble countertops, chrome appliances, and a scent of coffee that smelled rich enough to make your wallet ache. I stood there in a borrowed oversized T-shirt from Ariana, hair in a messy bun, holding a loaf of plain bread I’d secretly smuggled in because the fancy artisan stuff in his fridge was inedible.“Good morning,” Adrian said, his voice calm, controlled, as he carefully prepared his French press. His movements were deliberate, like each motion was choreographed to perfection.I dropped the bread onto the counter and grabbed a knife, hacking through it with reckless abandon. The slices were jagged, some almost falling apart.His gaze flicked toward me once, then back to his coffee. “You know there’s a bread knife for that.”“A knife is a knife,” I muttered, trying to ignore his judgmental stare.“Not in this kitchen,” he countered without
The Wrong Brother Chapter Twelve—Nova
The first night in Adrian Castellane’s penthouse felt like stepping into a hotel that didn’t want me there. The sheets smelled of crisp linen and something expensive I couldn’t name. The walls were bare except for sharp-edged modern art that looked like it cost more than my mom’s annual salary. I’d fallen asleep after staring out the massive glass window at the city lights, pretending not to think about Bruno’s smug face or Adrian’s protective snarl when he’d told him to back off.And now, sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows like it owned me.I dragged myself up with a groan, padding barefoot into the silent hallway. Everything gleamed. The penthouse was quiet in a way that pressed against my chest — like a library where even breathing too loudly would get you fined.Then I heard it.A low, throaty huff.I froze halfway into the kitchen. Standing in the middle of the glossy marble floor was a massive dog — black coat gleaming, chest broad, ears perked as if he’d been
The Wrong Brother Chapter Twelve—Nova
The first night in Adrian Castellane’s penthouse felt like stepping into a hotel that didn’t want me there. The sheets smelled of crisp linen and something expensive I couldn’t name. The walls were bare except for sharp-edged modern art that looked like it cost more than my mom’s annual salary. I’d fallen asleep after staring out the massive glass window at the city lights, pretending not to think about Bruno’s smug face or Adrian’s protective snarl when he’d told him to back off.And now, sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows like it owned me.I dragged myself up with a groan, padding barefoot into the silent hallway. Everything gleamed. The penthouse was quiet in a way that pressed against my chest — like a library where even breathing too loudly would get you fined.Then I heard it.A low, throaty huff.I froze halfway into the kitchen. Standing in the middle of the glossy marble floor was a massive dog — black coat gleaming, chest broad, ears perked as if he’d been
The Wrong Brother Chapter Twelve—Nova
The first night in Adrian Castellane’s penthouse felt like stepping into a hotel that didn’t want me there. The sheets smelled of crisp linen and something expensive I couldn’t name. The walls were bare except for sharp-edged modern art that looked like it cost more than my mom’s annual salary. I’d fallen asleep after staring out the massive glass window at the city lights, pretending not to think about Bruno’s smug face or Adrian’s protective snarl when he’d told him to back off.And now, sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows like it owned me.I dragged myself up with a groan, padding barefoot into the silent hallway. Everything gleamed. The penthouse was quiet in a way that pressed against my chest — like a library where even breathing too loudly would get you fined.Then I heard it.A low, throaty huff.I froze halfway into the kitchen. Standing in the middle of the glossy marble floor was a massive dog — black coat gleaming, chest broad, ears perked as if he’d been
The Wrong Brother Chapter Eleven—Nova
The world wouldn’t shut up.Every time I opened my phone, there it was: my face, my name, my life. Nova Ashton, “mystery girl.” Nova Ashton, “Adrian Castellane’s flavor of the summer.” Nova Ashton, “revenge fling.”The headlines blurred together, some paired with grainy photos of me and Adrian at the café, others zoomed in on his hand at the small of my back like it was evidence of a scandal. A TikTok had gone viral splicing pictures of Bruno and me beside Adrian and me, asking which Castellane brother I’d “upgrade” to.The comments section was a cesspool.Some called me lucky. Some called me a whore. Most didn’t even use my name.I tossed my phone onto my bed like it had burned me.The curtains fluttered from the warm summer breeze sneaking in through the cracked window, but it didn’t cool the heat in my chest. My mother still wasn’t home — she was never home — and Ariana was out again. Silence pressed in, except for the faint hum of cars on the street.I should have been used to lon
The Wrong Brother Chapter Ten—Nova
The evening air felt heavy, as though the summer sun had refused to let go even though it was already dipping below the skyline. I had just finished a walk down the quiet streets of North Wilmore, earbuds in, pretending the outside world wasn’t buzzing with my name tied to Adrian’s. Pretending that I was still just Nova Ashton, ordinary college freshman on break, not… whatever this thing was.Ariana had gone out with some of her friends, leaving me alone. I wasn’t sure if I liked the silence. It left too much room for thoughts I didn’t want — Adrian’s words replaying, the sparks in my stomach, and the whispers online that made me feel both untouchable and exposed at the same time.I stepped onto the porch, about to head inside, when I saw him.Bruno Castellane.Leaning against a sleek black car like he’d been carved into the twilight. Dark hair combed back, easy smile flashing like nothing between us had been broken. He was dressed in a casual button-down, sleeves rolled up, expensive
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