All Chapters of Bound By Blood: The Step-Brothers' Temptation: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

_Author’s POV_The sky outside Amelie’s window had darkened to deep velvet, and the only light in her room came from the low lamp by the bedside. It cast soft shadows over the books Matteo had stacked neatly by her pillows, and the blanket tucked carefully around her legs. A half-empty glass of water sat on the nightstand. She hadn’t touched it in hours.She was tired. Still healing. But not so tired that she didn’t notice him.The door creaked open like someone had tried to avoid making noise—and failed. She didn’t turn. She didn’t have to.It was obvious he was the one. Luca.She knew the weight of his presence, the way it shifted the air around her. Even when he said nothing, she felt him.He hovered just inside the door. She could hear the way he breathed—slow, careful. Like he didn’t want to disturb her. Like maybe he was thinking about turning back around.“Are you coming in or not?” she asked softly.A pause.Then quiet footsteps. He crossed the room, then hesitated again. For

Amelie’s POVThe house was too quiet.I’d been staring at the same page in my book for twenty minutes, and I still didn’t know what the hell I’d read. The words blurred, slanted, blurred again. My eyes felt dry. My limbs were heavy. But it wasn’t exhaustion.It was the kind of silence that creeps into your blood when you’ve been avoiding a truth too long.I was curled up on the couch in one of Luca’s sweaters—one I might’ve stolen permanently. The fabric smelled like cedar and gun oil, familiar in a way that made my stomach ache. Across the room, the fire in the hearth had burned down to embers, casting soft flickers against the walls. Somewhere upstairs, I could hear the low hum of voices. Probably Matteo and Nico arguing over something ridiculous again. Luca had disappeared into the greenhouse after dinner. He did that sometimes when he needed to breathe.I used to think it was just guilt—him trying to deal with what he did. But now I wasn’t so sure.Because lately, when he looked a

_Amelie’s POV_The day started soft.If you would call it that. Sunlight brushed my skin like a sigh, warm and low through the sheer curtains. I didn’t open my eyes. Didn’t need to. I didn’t even want to. The sheets beneath me were warm and the air in the room thick with comfort. The type of situation you would want to remain on bed.I could hear the sound of footsteps even before the door was pushed open.It was Luca this time.I knew it from the scent that followed him—earth and citrus and something smoky I hadn’t yet placed.He didn’t speak.Just set something down on the nightstand and gently brushed his knuckles over my temple. A quiet touch, reverent, like I was something he was afraid to wake.I peeked one eye open. He stood beside the bed, his usual solemn expression softened into something almost boyish.“Not coffee today?” I asked, voice scratchy.He shook his head, eyes glinting with something fond. “You’ve had too much lately. Tea. Chamomile. Honey. Just how you like

_Amelie’s POV_The room was too quiet.Not the peaceful kind of quiet — the kind that made your skin itch because you knew someone was thinking too much.Luca was sitting on the edge of my bed, one hand braced against the mattress like he could keep me from sliding away. Matteo leaned against the wall near the door, his arms folded, eyes scanning the room in a way that told me he was still replaying the earlier scare — the shadow of someone in the hall, the hurried voices. Nico sat in the chair by the window, elbows on his knees, watching me like I might shatter if he looked away for too long.I pulled the blanket a little higher, even though I wasn’t cold.They were waiting for me to speak, but it seemed as if I took too long to. Luca spoke first then.“We need to know exactly what Santiago did to you.”The words landed like a weight in my chest. I stared at him, at the way his tone was steady but his eyes… they weren’t steady at all.“It doesn’t matter,” I said quickly, trying to c

_Amelie’s POV_The door was still trembling in its frame from Matteo’s exit when the quiet settled. Not the kind of quiet you get when a conversation dies — this was heavier. Hollow. The kind of silence that seemed to swallow even the sound of your own heartbeat.Nico was pacing. Back and forth, sharp turns at each wall, like if he stopped moving the anger might eat him alive. Luca hadn’t moved at all. His elbows rested on his knees, head bowed low, hands clasped like he was trying to hold something together.I sat there, staring at the space Matteo had left, the slam of the door still echoing somewhere in my chest. My fingers ached — I realized I was gripping the edge of the blanket so tightly the threads were biting into my skin.I didn’t like how any of this was going. It would have been easy to stay silent. Let them fight. Let them all tear each other apart if they needed to. But the longer Nico stalked the room, the more I saw the way his jaw was locked, the muscle ticking. He w