Mag-log in“Tell me,” he said, low and dangerous. “Tell me who this cunt belongs to.” “You,” I panted, spreading wider, shameless. “It’s yours—please, Micaiah—” “Come on my cock,” he ordered through gritted teeth. “Show me how much you love being fucked by me.” ★☆ Maliya comes home after two years abroad, hoping everything she ran from has finally cooled. But the moment she steps through the door, she realizes nothing has changed—especially not the one person she never wanted to face again. Micaiah. Her stepbrother. Her almost. Her reason for disappearing. She plans to keep her distance, start classes, rebuild her life… until her parents drop the news: they’ve transferred her to a new university, the one where Micaiah works as a professor. And they’re leaving for a three-month honeymoon, meaning she and Micaiah will be living in the same house. Alone. Maliya tells herself she can handle it. But Micaiah has his own ideas about unfinished business. Three months isn’t long… unless you’re stuck with the one person you swore you’d never fall for again.
view moreChapter Eighty-One — Brother⚔Micaiah's POV⚔I hadn't said that name out loud in two years.Maliya was staring at me with her phone still extended between us and I was looking at the paused footage and trying to decide how much of what just came out of my mouth I could take back. The answer was none of it. It was already out there, sitting in the hallway between us, too big to step around.I took the phone from her hand and watched the footage from the beginning.Forty seconds. Kieran and Marcus standing between two cars, close enough that whatever they were saying wasn't meant to travel. Marcus had his back mostly to the camera but I knew his posture the same way you know anyone you grew up watching. The way he held his shoulders. The way he turned his head when he was making a point he wanted to land.I'd spent twenty years knowing that posture.I handed the phone back."Marcus Veil is your uncle," Maliya said. Not a question."My father's younger brother. He dropped the Anderson na
Chapter Eighty — Watched★Maliya's POV★Stephanie had been talking for ten minutes straight and I hadn't heard a word she said.I knew she was talking about some guy from her modeling agency because she'd said his name three times and made a face each time, but beyond that I had nothing. My brain was somewhere else entirely. Sitting in Micaiah's car replaying that message on a loop.You need to tell Micaiah about me.I hadn't. I'd sat next to him the whole drive and said nothing and then spent the rest of the morning convincing myself I was waiting for the right moment when really I just didn't know how to hand him that particular grenade.Hey, the person you've been looking for has been in your phone for weeks. Surprise."Maliya."I looked up. Stephanie was staring at me."Where are you right now.""Here. Sorry. Keep going."She gave me the look she'd perfected over the past few weeks, the one that said she didn't believe me but wasn't going to push. Then she went back to the agency
Chapter Seventy-Nine — Footage⚔Micaiah's POV⚔I knew something was wrong before she said a word.Maliya had been quiet the whole drive, which wasn't unusual. But there's a difference between someone who has nothing to say and someone who's sitting on something they haven't decided what to do with yet. She was watching the road the whole time with her phone face down in her lap and her jaw set in that particular way that meant her brain was working faster than she was letting on.I parked and she got out before I cut the engine.I let her go.First class was mine. I stood at the front of the room and taught and watched her in the third row not look at me, which was its own kind of looking. She took notes. Asked one question that was sharper than anything anyone else in the room had offered all morning. Two students near the back were visibly surprised she'd said anything at all.I called on her once near the end just to see what she'd do.She answered without hesitating and then went
Chapter Seventy-Eight — The Name★Maliya's POV★I didn't sleep.I tried. Lay flat on my back with the lamp off and my phone on my chest and stared at the ceiling until my eyes adjusted to the dark and then kept staring. The anonymous account's last message was still open. Lock your door. Like whatever he knew was bad enough that a locked door was the first thing he thought of.I'd locked it.That was the part that scared me most. That I'd done it without arguing.I got up at six, showered, and came downstairs to find Micaiah already in the kitchen. He was dressed for school, coffee made, standing at the counter going through something on his phone with the focused expression he got when something was wrong and he was trying not to show it.He looked up when I came in."You slept," he said."Barely."He nodded and poured me a coffee without being asked. I took it and sat at the counter and we did the quiet morning thing we'd been doing since I came back. Careful. Measured. Like two peo
Chapter Sixty-Two— be gone★Maliya's POV★I threw clothes into a bag with shaking hands.Jeans. Sweaters. Underwear. I wasn't thinking clearly, just grabbing whatever I could reach.Micaiah stood at the door, his body tense, his eyes constantly flicking between me and the hallway.Like he was expec
Chapter Fifty-Two— Hate☆Micaiah's POV☆She tasted like anger.Like frustration and hurt and all the things she'd been holding back for weeks. Her nails dug into my shoulders through my shirt, not quite breaking skin but close.Good.I wanted her mark on me. Wanted proof that she was here, in my ar
Chapter Forty-Nine— like hell I will★Maliya's POV★I was still smiling when I pulled into the driveway.The movie had been good. Dinner had been better. Daemon was—The thought died when I saw Micaiah's car.Not just in the driveway. Parked directly in front of the garage door. Blocking me in deli
Chapter Forty-Seven— movie★Maliya's POV★The next two days passed faster than I expected.Work at Desert Bloom became my refuge. The quietness of the bookstore, the smell of paper and coffee, helping customers find their next obsession—it all felt right in a way nothing else had in weeks.Edward w


















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