All Chapters of Craving The Wrong Brother: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

Knox, of course, doesn't respond to Mateo’s question. His silence says more than words ever could. I think he believes he can shoot the man behind me before that gun goes off in my head. I only wish, for my sake, that he wouldn't try. Mateo’s hand moves down his left leg, like he's reaching to scratch an itch. The hand disappears beneath the cuff of his pants, and when he straightens, there's a gun in his hand. A tiny silver handgun. One of those compact ones that still manage to kill just as effectively as the big guys. He points it straight at Knox. I suck in a breath. “Do you think you’ll be fast enough to shoot him before I kill you, Knox?” Mateo says with amusement in his voice. “I had a plan, you know. A good one. Take you down piece by piece. Everything you care about. Your money. Your club. Maybe even that sex toy company—what is it? Bliss?” He chuckles to himself. “And those other little illegal ventures you’ve got tucked away. Not in your name, of course, but we both kno

Finn stays quiet after that, but his glare is all attitude and wounded pride. He rubs his cheek and mutters something under his breath that sounds like cursing in three different languages. I turn back to Knox, whose attention hasn’t wavered from the pallets where Mateo is still hiding. Knox's men are scattered around the room, some standing and breathing hard, some slumped against walls or columns, all injured or catching their breath or both. They are all waiting, looking to Knox for direction. Mateo is still alive. Still crouched behind that barricade of his. I can see part of his shadow through a gap in the pallets and can hear his labored breathing. And Knox seems to get weaker every passing moment. “We need to get you to a hospital,” I whisper, pressing harder against his wound. The blood keeps coming, seeping through my fingers no matter how much pressure I apply. “No hospital,” Knox says. “My men will patch me up. Besides, I promised you the honor, remember?” He slides h

~~THREE MONTHS LATER~~“Again!” Jade yells. He's standing beside me with his hands in his pockets, earmuffs on, and safety glasses pushed up just enough to see my face. “Don’t stop until the clip’s empty.”I nod without saying anything because what is there to say?The first shot goes off, jerking my shoulder with the recoil. I keep going.Bang.Bang.Bang.The sound is everything, louder than the voice in my head that keeps whispering, ‘You killed someone, you killed someone, you killed someone.’ The indoor range smells like gunpowder and industrial bleach, a smell that makes my eyes water. My ears are muffled by the protective gear, but I can still feel each shot rattling through my chest.Bang.Bang.I didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to be standing in the firing range beneath Knox’s club, listening to Jade bark instructions at me. But after months of therapy sessions where I’ve danced around the warehouse incident—unable to voice my actual problem without risking jail time—Knox

About an hour later, we’re sitting outside some taco place tucked into a quiet corner of lower Manhattan, not far from the South Street Seaport. The smell of roasted corn and grilled meat fills the air. Knox’s car is parked across the street—black and polished and completely out of place next to the weathered brick walls and flashing string lights of this tiny eatery.We’re seated at a small metal table, and Knox is biting into a taco with zero grace. I’m not doing much better.“That’s not how you eat it,” he says through a mouthful, pointing at the way I’ve tilted mine sideways. “You’re gonna get it all over your dress.”“What’s the point of eating tacos if not to get messy?”He smirks. “Touché. You’re nasty. I like that.”And then, without warning, he leans in and licks a smear of chipotle mayo off the corner of my mouth. His tongue is hot and slow, and I almost drop my taco. My eyes flutter closed for a second.“Shit,” I breathe when he pulls back. “I think I need to make some more

I swear, in all my life, I’ve never been this hungry to kiss someone. It’s like the oxygen in my body is burning up just from holding back. I want her mouth. Her skin. All of her.But I have to control myself and wait.“I feel like you thought I was going to say no,” Sloane says. “You have this strange look in your eyes.”“You’re unpredictable.”“Really?”“I don’t always know what’s running through that pretty head of yours.”She grins. “You’re right. Because at this moment, I’m wondering why this behemoth of a man that I love is holding a ring before me and isn’t on his knees yet.”That earns a laugh from me.And I don’t waste another second.Without taking my eyes off her, I lower myself down on one knee.“Sloane Mercer,” I say. “My dearest bunny. The love of my life. Will you marry me?”She screams.It’s not a delicate sound. Not a whimper. A full-on scream that echoes against the water. Then she starts jumping—literally jumping up and down like her feet can’t stay on the ground.I