All Chapters of Deadly Game With My Husband's Brothers : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

~~PEYTON~~ Tonight, I want to sin. Like, really sin. I wear a dress that screams "fuck me." Deep cleavage, loose hair black as the night itself. The fabric clings to my every curve, like a second skin barely covering my thigh. I wouldn't even dare touch my toes. I put my makeup skills to good use: dark eyeliner, sharp and defined like a wildcat on a mission. I even dared to wear four-inch heels—the kind of sky-high torture devices I usually avoid. But today it's time to step out of my comfort zone. Enough is enough. I won't get the shorter end of the stick this time. I slip out of the dressing room, the sound of moans low and sensual filling the air. My ears are itching, my blood boiling. But I must get past the exasperating scene—like I always do. I step into the master bedroom, but I still can't help but feel this way—as if a dagger went through my heart. There is my so-called husband breaking the damn rules. Bringing one of his flings into my bed. My fuckin

~~PEYTON~~ I'm in trouble, but that doesn't mean I'll shiver in fear all because of one mysterious stranger and his chilling laugh. Nah. "Come on," I say a bit defensively. "I'm offering you payment since sorry doesn't soothe you." He stops laughing, yanks out the phone pouch, takes out the SIM card, and tosses the phone back to the ground. All the while, his eyes remain fixed on mine with an unreadable intensity, a weight that makes me feel rooted to the spot. "How about you fix everything by drying me up?" he says finally. My eyebrows raise, but I don't say anything; I'm done with all this shit. He's clearly out of his mind. As I attempt to leave again, he abruptly rips my purse from my grip. My breath hitches, my fingers spasming in the empty air. Before I can react, he turns and strides toward a velvet couch nestled close to the edge of the crowded dance floor. "What the..." I turn, speechless. The audacity... I have no choice but to follow. "You piece of shi

~~PEYTON~~ I remember him snatching it from my thigh like it was a trophy. And a drunken me didn't even bother. I was too engrossed in the sensations—the way his fingers traced my thigh—to care. "I can't believe I'm thinking about that right now," I mutter. My body feels like a sack of cement; each limb takes a monumental effort to lift. The thought of coffee is the only thing propelling me forward. I fumble for the coffee maker, my hands shaking as I load the grounds. The smell of fresh coffee brewing is a beacon of hope in the foggy mess that is my brain. While it drips, I stare at my reflection in the polished surface of the microwave. My hair is a tangled mess, my eyes are bloodshot, and there is a faint smear of something dark on my cheek. I look like a refugee from a bad zombie movie. The thought of Odin seeing me like this, even for a split second, makes my stomach churn. I feel I'm no better than him, and it disgusts me. Finally, the coffee is ready. I pour a mug, and just

~~PEYTON~~ It's been a day, and I've been avoiding Odin like a disease. I've locked myself in my room, staying put until he finally leaves for work. Even then, I move through the apartment like a ghost, tiptoeing around corners, half-expecting to bump into him. I eat in my room, read in my room, and practically live in my room. The idea of running into him, of having to face his stupid pose of "we need to talk," annoys me. It seems his blonde "friend" has become a regular. I hear her laugh, her moans, sometimes her shouts that grate on my nerves. They don't just "do it" in their room. They do it in the kitchen, my kitchen, even on the couch, the hallway, the fucking stairs. When the sounds come, I grab my blanket and pull it over my head. I'll try to block out everything, and that usually leads to me thinking about Axel. Replaying the text he sent, the one I've memorized, the one that makes my heart ache and flutter all at once. "You're the one who'll come to me." Just se

~~PEYTON~~ "You're darn lucky you didn't bail on me. I would have—" "Good evening, Momma." Odin cut his mother off, giving her a peck on the cheek. She had been waiting at the entrance, and the moment we arrived, she fires at Odin, completely ignoring my presence. I don't mind; I'm used to it. I stand beside Odin like a stranger, hands tucked in my pockets as the squabble between mother and son goes on. She is crossing her arms, pouting as Odin showers her with praise. Her name's Natalie, and she looks lost in her butterfly long gown, but is radiant as ever, with dimples like Odin, and the same hair and eyes. The twins had taken after their father only. Odin is a mama's boy. When they are done with their fight, it ends with a bear hug. They laugh and saunter inside, acting like I didn't exist. I stood there, waiting. "Are you coming in, or do you prefer watching the sky?" a voice cut in. It's Rafael, leaning against the wall in a simple black shirt, hair damp like