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2026-07-31 11:32:41
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Two Brothers. One Ruin. 129
His mouth crashes into mine. Filthy, scorching, all wet heat and zero restraint, messy in the best possible way. I loop my arms around his neck. And I just—fall into it. All of it. His hands roam over my body until they land beneath my ass, and in one swift motion, he flips me flat onto my back against the mattress. The next thing that registers is the sound of lace tearing—my lingerie, gone. A heartbeat later, his mouth’s closed around my nipple. Goddamn it. He’s gone feral again, some starved animal let off its leash. Even the sounds tearing out of his throat sound less human, more beast. He palms my breast hard, sucks, and I writhe beneath him helplessly. Then, with zero patience left, his tongue traces a path down my stomach, lower, lower. My thong doesn’t stand a chance. He hooks his hands under my thighs, spreads me open, hauls my hips up to meet him—and then his mouth is on my pussy. Every muscle in my body goes liquid at once. I dissolve, completely. No gentle
Two Brothers. One Ruin. 128
Three days gone. Three mornings in a row, Shaun has dragged me down to that shooting range, forced a gun into my hands, and made me fire. And every time my aim gets sharper, every time a bullet finds its mark, a rush floods my veins. Adrenaline. Power. Some sick, intoxicating high I have no business enjoying. Which is not good. Not even a little. “God,” I whisper, dragging a hand down my face as I sit up in bed. Only a few minutes have passed since we said our goodnights and retreated to our separate corners of the house. I need to do something. I swing my legs off the mattress and stand. You know what they say: the only way out is through. Don’t run from the problem—walk straight into the belly of the beast, claw your way out the other side, and call it a win. In my specific case, the problem has a name: Shaun. And the solution—apparently the only way out of this mess—is to walk straight toward him. Before one of those bullets I’ve been putting into paper targets ends up som
Two Brothers. One Ruin. 127
The moment I’m inside, I’m all eyes, head turning, cataloguing everything at once. This isn’t some secret vault packed with cash, priceless artifacts, or stacks of incriminating documents—not the place I’ve been desperately hunting for three days straight. This is something else entirely. It’s an extension of the gym. Only, built for something far more brutal. Far more lethal. A private training facility. One designed for violence. The kind of place where people don’t come to get stronger. They come to learn how to kill. One entire section of the room is lined with meticulously organized racks of weapons. Row after row of samurai swords and daggers, small to large, mounted with almost obsessive precision on their stands. The sight of them sends a cold prickle straight up the back of my neck. Further in, heavy punching bags hang in perfect rows from the ceiling. Beyond them sits a full-sized boxing ring, its ropes gleaming beneath the overhead lights. Behind a wall further
Two Brothers. One Ruin. 126
Liana The mattress shifts beneath me. The subtle movement is enough to pull me slowly out of sleep. I blink against the morning light, my vision still blurred, until I make out Shaun’s back disappearing into the bathroom. I rub the sleep from my eyes and push myself upright. Wait. I’m in Shaun’s room. How the hell did I end up in here? Last night, playing my part as the dutiful wife, I’d parked myself in the sitting room to wait up for him. But somewhere between page one and his relentlessly depressing choice of literature, I lost the battle to stay awake. Well—mission accomplished, apparently. Since he came home to find me passed out and decided the appropriate response was hauling me into his own bed. One point in the column for Devoted Wife. A few minutes later, Shaun emerges from the bathroom. The second his eyes land on me, something almost like a smile ghosts across his mouth. Okay. That’s probably worth two points, then. “Good, you’re up.” He crosses toward the bed.
Two Brothers. One Ruin. 125
For fuck’s sake. I can’t get a moment’s peace. I blow out a breath. “And why exactly would I do that?” “Because staying by your side right now isn’t safe for her.” I can’t exactly argue the logic isn’t there. But the thought of Liana being pulled away from me sits wrong in my chest. And worse—I hate this feeling crawling under my skin, the fact that Julian still caring about her at all bothers me this much. “And that’s not even the whole of it.” He steps closer, close enough that our chests are nearly touching. “Kate’s actually alive.” And there it is again. When is anyone going to let this go? “Whoa, whoa, guys!” Ian’s already back inside, closing the distance between us at a near-jog. Caleb trails right behind him, matching his pace. “Please, do not start. I am not in the mood to catch a stray fist breaking up you two again.” “I had the old DNA tests rerun.” Julian pushes forward, ignoring them completely. “The remains from the explosion weren’t hers. The medical examiner wh
Two Brothers. One Ruin. 124
Shaun “Looks like Kyle let Chelsea go three days after we handed her over to him.” Xavier drops a folder of surveillance photos onto my desk. “She’s been keeping herself off the grid since. But it’s clear she’s back in contact with the same guy she was having the affair with. We’re close to putting a name to him.” I pick up the folder and flip through the photos. Chelsea’s clearly been putting in the effort to stay invisible—plain jacket, plain pants, hair tucked under a baseball cap, an oversized pair of glasses swallowing half her face. Last night, after listening to the recording of Kyle and Liana’s conversation, two things had my blood boiling. One: Kyle apparently has the audacity to have his eyes on my wife. Two: it sounds like during her little stint as his prisoner, Chelsea decided to run her mouth with impressive generosity, handing over everything she knew about us like she was doing a public service. I still can’t quite work out whether that was the currency she use
Two Brothers. One Ruin. 1
Liana I stare at my reflection in the mirror, and the memory hits so hard it feels physical. — “Fuck,” Julian had murmured against my ear, his voice rough enough to make my nipples pebble instantly. “How the hell am I supposed to sit through an entire night with my dick behaving itself when yo
Two Brothers. One Ruin. 4
Shaun It’s almost impossible to distinguish anything through the chaos. Gunfire cracks through the air from every direction, sharp enough to vibrate through the walls, while people scream over each other somewhere beyond the smoke and shattered glass. The scent of blood and burning metal hangs
Two Brothers. One Ruin. 3
For one irrational second, I actually wonder if I’m drunk enough to be hallucinating him. But the closer we get, the more impossible denial becomes. Those same dark hair strands I used to wrap around my fingers. Those same deep eyes I drowned in willingly. That same face I held between my hands li
Two Brothers. One Ruin. 2
“This is Shaun Stone,” Evan says smoothly, gesturing toward the man beside him. “Mr. Stone’s eldest son.” Oh, fuck you, Melissa. Looks like you were right. Eldest son, huh? Which means the mysterious new bastard son was conceived somewhere in the middle of Randall Stone’s very respectable marriage
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