All Chapters of Deadly Game With My Husband's Brothers : Chapter 121 - Chapter 129

~~ESME~~“And this. What do you think of this one?” Natalie looks at me expectantly, shoving her phone into my face, forcing me to decide which overpriced, floor-length monstrosity she should order next. It's more about the big name and brand, making it ridiculously expensive, the kind I used to like but now I'm as poor as a pauper when I have a rich husband."It’s hideous, Natalie," I say, not even bothering to look up from my own coffee. "It looks like a silk parachute had a midlife crisis.""It's a custom piece from the Winter collection," she huffs, pulling the phone back and stroking the screen like it’s a religious relic. "The embroidery alone costs more than your car, Esme. It’s about the statement."Oh great. Remind me you're richer than me. Clearly, she’s lost her mind. She’s been camping out in my guest wing for a week now, and she has no intention of leaving. It’s like having a parasitic queen in residence; she spends her mornings bossing my staff around and her afternoo

~~PEYTON~~I no longer recognize myself in the mirror. My eyes are dimmed, and my face is a tad pale. I look like I’ve been dragged out of hell and dumped on a bed—and honestly, hell probably has better lighting.I finally woke up at 7:00 AM today. At least, it’s early for someone whose current hobby is rotting in a duvet. I’ve been wandering the house, playing games and watching movies, desperately trying to fill the space in my mind so I don't have to think about how I almost lost my child.He’s safe. He’s sound. I should be glad, but my brain is still stuck in survival mode.It’s past noon now, and I’m chilling on the terrace, watching the sun begin its slow descent. I’m seriously regretting not bringing popcorn; the sky is putting on a better show than anything on Netflix, and it’s the first time in weeks I’ve actually felt relieved.“What are you doing?"I turn to see Axel leaning by the door, arms crossed. He's decked in a tuxedo, looking like he just stepped out of a high-end w

~~ESME~~The sun is doing its best to be productive, but I’m just here for the tan, occupied with my favorite hobby: lounging by the pool and pretending the rest of the world doesn't exist. My sunglasses are big enough to hide my lack of interest in anything and everything, and the water is a perfect, shimmering blue.The peace is nothing like I've ever seen.Natalie is gone. At least she's moved out, but it's clear as day that she will be visiting soon for the marathon that usually lasts the whole night. They're like sex maniacs.Arlo, to be precise.He's a maniac to her but pretended to be gentle with me on our one-night stand. It's funny when you think of it. He was drunk that night, but his sex wasn't satisfying—the opposite of what he feeds Natalie.Then, a shadow falls over my lounge chair. I don't need to look up to know who it is. The air usually gets a lot more boring when Arlo walks into a room—or a backyard."Can I sit?" he asks.I don't move. I don't even lift my shades.

~~PEYTON~~Esme hasn't contacted me once since she woke up. Typical. According to Axel, she basically vanished into thin air the second she got her discharge papers. He’s been hovering, suggesting we should track her down or hire someone to make sure she’s not sleeping in a designer cardboard box, but I declined. Fast.She was shitty to me. Period. I’m not playing the concerned daughter for a woman who only remembered I existed when she was flying through a windshield. I’ll only help if she actually asks for it—which she won't. She’s got too much dignity for that. Or pride. Usually, they’re the same thing when you’re as delusional as she is.I’m hoping that pride is enough to help her survive. She’s still pretty, despite the bruises. Give or take a few weeks, she’ll probably find another "Mr. Gold" to leech off of. That’s her only real skill, after all.I look at my reflection in the mirror and sigh. I had my own problems to deal with, and none of them involved hunting down a woman wh

~~PEYTON~~ONE YEAR LATERI am currently commando-crawling across the rug like a protagonist in a low-budget action movie. My target? The crib. The tiny, high-stakes biological weapon currently snoring like he didn't spend three hours last night screaming at a shadow on the wall.I reach the edge of the bed, popping my head up. "Guess whose birthday it is?"Still snoring, still sleeping.How do I wake him? I need a way to get back at him for depriving me of sleep.The birthday boy is named Leo—short for Leonardo, because Axel wanted 'classic' and Raphael wanted 'expensive.'He jolts a little because I poked him with my finger.He tries to go back to sleep, but I don't let him.I poke him again.“Wakey wakey!“Finally.He lunges for my hair with the grip of a professional wrestler."Ow! Mother of—"The sound of a ceramic plate meeting its maker echoes from the kitchen downstairs. I roll my eyes so hard I’m pretty sure I see my own brain."And that, Leo, is the sound of your fathers fai