All Chapters of Bound By Blood: The Step-Brothers' Temptation: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

_Amelie’s POV_“Take me.” The moments the words parted from my lips, it seemed as if Luca lost all forms of restraint.The anger in his eyes was gone now, replaced by something else. Something was different and frightening. Lust. Luca shoved me back, hard.My shoulders hit the soot-blackened wall with a dull thud, dust, and ash drifting down like dead snow. My breath caught—not from fear, but from the way he looked at me. Like I was the match that lit the ruin around us. Like he hadn’t decided whether he wanted to strangle me or kiss me.Maybe both.And maybe I wanted them both as well.His hand gripped my jaw, fingers digging into my cheek just enough to hurt. Just enough to remind me who he was. Who I was. What we had done.“You don’t get to come back and act like nothing happened,” he growled. “Act all innocent.” “Then ruin me,” I said, my voice tight.My lips parted slightly as I breathed softly through my mouth.His eyes darkened.Then his mouth was on mine.It wasn’t a kiss

.Amelie’s POVI hadn’t seen Luca since that night.Not really. Not the version of him who touched me like he hated how much he needed me.Now he was silent. Worse than silence. Distant. And I didn’t know if it was guilt or regret or just… survival.Matteo was cold, sharp with his sarcasm, avoiding any room I entered.Nico?He watched. Always watched me. But never asked again. And that—more than anything—unraveled me.I couldn’t even understand why they avoided me.So I buried myself in the only part of the estate where no one followed me: the library.It was empty, mostly. The triplets had more use for bullets than books. The staff never lingered there. That was exactly why I did.It was the first place I ever learned about the family business. And the first place Santiago taught me to lie with a smile.Now, it was quiet.Too quiet.I sat cross-legged in the corner behind the farthest shelf—old leather-bound volumes stacked around me like walls. A book lay open in my lap, pages unrea

Amelie’s POVI woke up choking on air, my heart racing in my chest.It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream. I said repeatedly, rubbing my chest as I tried to calm myself down. But it had felt more than just a a dream.The dream lingered, thick and sticky behind my eyes like blood on silk. I could still feel the altar beneath my heels, still hear the priest’s words echoing through the cathedral. My father’s hand had gripped my wrist too tightly—tight enough to bruise. And Ferdinand’s hand had clamped down over mine like iron. Binding. Branding.“You’ll learn to stop fighting,” he whispered in the dream, and it felt just like reality. “Wife.”I bolted upright.Sweat clung to my skin. My lamp flickered weakly in the corner. I was in the estate. Not at the altar. Not beside Ferdinand. But the cold didn’t leave my bones. I glanced at the foot of the bed, half-expecting to see him sitting there, watching me like he had every night in my nightmares.Ferdinand was a scary man, anyone who enc

_Amelie’s POV_I didn’t sleep.Even with Matteo’s arm draped around me and Luca stationed at the door like a sentry, I couldn’t shut my eyes without seeing Ferdinand’s silhouette waiting at the end of that hallway. The image clung to my eyelids like it had been burned there—every line, every inch of darkness that had formed the shape of the man who haunted my nightmares.It was all I could ever see.The boys tried. Matteo pulled me against him and murmured soft reassurances. Which was quite surprising, but I couldn't complain. Even thought that maybe I got them mixed up again, but when I called out his name he had answered.Nico adjusted the blanket around me twice, then gave up, standing by the window like a statue. Luca barely moved except to check his phone, his expression unreadable, locked in that cold, calculating mode he entered when things went sideways.But I couldn’t rest.Couldn’t stop thinking, my mind working at a million miles per second.My brain couldn't work this f

_Amelie’s POV_That day was still fresh on my mind. The very moment it had happened.I remember the weight of the tray. I remember the way the glasses clinked against each other as I carried them through the halls of the estate.But mostly, I remember the bottle Santiago placed in my hand that afternoon.That was how it all started.“Just a few drops,” he said calmly like he was teaching me how to measure medicine.“Make them a drink, Amelie. They trust you. They’ll drink whatever you bring.”I wanted to say no. I wanted to scream at him. It didn't feel right at all to do this.Especially since they “trusted me”. Because what was what made it all wrong. I was taking advantage of that trust and I hated it. But he looked at me the way he always did when I hesitated—like I was a disappointment.And all I ever wanted to be was to get recognized by my father. For him to gave me that satisfied smile and say I did well. So I nodded and I went to the kitchen like a good daughter and pre