All Chapters of CROOKED: In love with my cousin's boyfriend: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

At home, everything is better—it’s always better. Or so I thought. I could attend any event, shout my relationship with Maël to the world, but being in our home meant tranquility, serenity, peace, comfort, and companionship—the last being the best of all. Thinking about that, the day after meeting with my parents and walking Torto around the neighborhood, I headed to the apartment to wait for Maël. On the way, I bought everything to prepare a surprise dinner for him. I got everything from food to lingerie because I wanted to see that sexy, stunned look on his face again—the one he had when he found me lying on the kitchen counter. But of course, since we’d agreed to meet at 6:00 PM on the 22nd, I had to turn dinner into a late lunch instead. I cleaned, tidied up the living room, placed candles in different corners of our apartment to light them closer to his arrival, turned up the heating a little, and closed the blinds on the big window to give the place a more intimate feel. I s

I pressed myself into a corner, trembling with terror, my breathing ragged. My tears now flowed freely. He grabbed my face, and I shuddered. He squeezed my cheeks, pulling me close, and I noticed something horrifying: this man didn’t smell of alcohol—only cologne. His breath was clean, hot. The realization made me nauseous. Nikko wasn’t drunk. He was driven by pure, unfiltered rage. Fear surged through me like never before. His lucidity terrified me—there was no other way to describe it. "Let me go," I hissed through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into my skin as tears streamed down my face. He narrowed his eyes, tilted his head, bit his lip, and from that suffocating closeness, raked his gaze over my body. "Get away from me, Nikko! Enough—get away!" I thrashed, twisting my head until I broke free. He wedged the pipe between his legs, pressing the tip against mine. My chest heaved as he untied my robe. "Nikko, no, please!" His fingers fumbled at the fabric. "The concier

I blinked at that absurdity and shook my head, still listening to him. "At first, I didn’t believe him. A confession? No fucking way! He must’ve been messing with me, spouting nonsense. But as the months passed, he started doing things that confirmed he was dead serious. First, I asked Carlos to rent him the house where I was staying. Second, he tricked me several times, asking me to look for something in my room, only to lock himself away with you right after—making love in the next room so I’d hear. Third, he rubbed it in my face how great things were between you two, while pushing me to see you, to stay in your life. He started playing, Delu—playing hard—and I didn’t realize it immediately." He dragged his hands down his face in desperation. "Then, the fights started—but never in front of you. In front of you, we were the best cousins in the family. And I admit, I played along because I didn’t want you to see it, or to worry. Why did he hide it? Maybe he didn’t want you to

My senses went on alert, though somewhat uncoordinated. “Who are you talking to?” My laughter stopped there. My suspicions catapulted me back to reality, and I didn’t want that to happen. “Is it Maël? Were you with him? Fran!” I touched his arm. He slipped his phone into his jacket pocket—a jacket I barely noticed was white and looked expensive. Had I stumbled into a themed disco where everyone was dressed in white? Or was it just the light at the end of the tunnel? “Do you think if he were here, you’d be in my car at this hour?” “Then who did you tell it was me?” “A friend.” I frowned. “And how does this friend know me?” “I didn’t know she knew you until a second ago when she asked if you were Delu.” I let my head fall back against the seat. “Damn,” I huffed, dragging my palms over my face. “How is that possible?” “What’s worrying you?” “If she knows me, she probably knows Maël. Because she knows you, and you know him…” He frowned. “I’m worried she’ll tell him

(MAËL 4). (2025, Braga). That August would be the death of me—too much work for one stage alone. What excited me about staying in this game wasn’t just the music or the money, but the fact that this time, several world-renowned artists would be performing with us—something that rarely happened on such a grand scale, all thanks to an electronic music festival in my own country. In my own country! That made our company a pioneer for this kind of event in Braga, as I said before, on this level. The best part of it all was coming back. I’d spent a terrible year going back and forth between Portugal and London. In 2020, the project with ID&T was delayed for months, and Joao and I had to keep looking for sponsors, forcing us to fall back on old routines: me finishing my Business Administration degree, and Joao working with his father in politics while collaborating with my brother in Lisbon. We needed a lot of cash that we didn’t have. The stress and the disappointment over the delay me