All Chapters of Deadly Game With My Husband's Brothers : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

129 Chapters

061: Who's boring whom?

💋 PEYTON 💋 The villa is everything!! A private pool that overlooked the ocean and a staff member who seemed to materialize out of thin air to offer me a chilled drink. My luggage, along with Axel’s, had already been placed in the massive walk-in closet. The room was aggressively romantic: saffron-colored silk runners draped across the king-sized bed, fresh rose petals scattered on the duvet. It smelled faintly of sandalwood and very expensive regret. “You’ll take the guest bathroom,” he stated, already unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m not waiting for you to complete your full skincare ritual. I’ll be out in fifteen.” I don't answer, utterly distracted by how painfully slow he's taking off that shirt, or is it just my eyes playing it in slow motion? He tossed the shirt away and strode into the bathroom without a glance. Again. Okay, this is killing me. Axel used to be funny and fun, and now he’s starting to sound like grumpy Raphael. Axel is in the shower. The only thing separating

062: Aggressive sex

💋PEYTON💋“Fuck.” Axel groans, arching his back as I start sucking on his member. Circling my tongue around his cock, my hands stroke his balls agonizingly slow as I suck in and out. A loud popping sound goes on and off.“Fuck Peyton, why are you so good at this?” he says, fisting my hair and pressing my face into his pelvis.I feel my nipples stand on end, begging to be touched, but all I get is the cold water dripping on them. My core is soaking wet and ready.Axel’s control snaps entirely as I increase the pace. He is completely undone, gripping the wet tile wall for balance as pleasure takes hold.“Go faster...” he groans, his hips moving reflexively, completely giving in to the urgency.I pause, pulling back slightly. The water streams over my face as I look up at him, a wicked, triumphant smile stretching my lips.“Not until you admit you were never going to make me take the guest bath.”His eyes are shut, his head tilted back against the wall, chest heaving. "It's yours. Take

063: The catalyst

~~PEYTON~~ "Axel," turning slightly to face him, I reach up and place my wet hand on his cheek. "We just spent an hour proving that Raphael doesn't exist for either of us.” He clutches my hand on his cheek. “That wasn't an assurance, Peyton.” “Then how should I prove it to you?” He sighs, suddenly looking deflated as he tears my hands from his cheek. Stepping back, he runs both hands over his wet hair, regaining the posture of the statue he was trying to be earlier, but his eyes remain dark and wounded. “You don’t have to prove anything to me,” he says. “You just have to stop looking for replacements.” “Oh my God, is that what you think of me?” I snap. “You think you're not good enough for me?” He shrugs. “Nah, I think I'm too good for you.” I'm suddenly short of words. I sigh. “Listen—” “Forget it.” He says, turning off the shower and slowly backing off. “We both know Raphael is irresistible. And he looks just like me, so whatever promise you're about to make… is p

064: Do as you please

~~ PEYTON ~~Raphael carries me in his arms toward the nearest exit. He moves along the wall, sticking to the shadows and the edges of the room where the attention is thinnest, which I'm thankful for. We wouldn't want our own personalized Bollywood drama.He doesn't rush, maintaining a steady pace that somehow makes the action less conspicuous than a panicked dash.Everyone is busy with the rehearsal, so at least we're seventy percent saved from prying eyes unless one drunkard stumbles out of the fun, which I bet won't happen. Who would want to miss the music and dancing, laughter, and chattering apart two self-destructive idiots—like us?I relax completely, dumping my entire weight into his arms, stretching my arms and legs out.I glance at his face. “You know I hate you, right?“He chuckles. “Obviously, we hate each other.““Right. Glad we're on the same page.“He chuckles again. I catch that look on his face this time. Peaceful. Relaxed, no thick walls surrounding him. Just… human.

065: Confused

~~AXEL~~ I glance at my watch. It is past time for the dance rehearsal. I should go, maintain the façade, and show the extended family that everything is fine with the golden couple. But the thought of putting on that mask, of smiling through our fight, feels unbearable. Seeing her face again will remind me that the woman I love is drawn to my other half, and I am just the safe, possessive guy who gets left behind when the thrill ride starts. Sharing one woman didn't used to be the issue—not when it was all clinical or whatever arrangement. The problem is that this time, it feels like I already know how this movie ends. She gets bored of me, then I get dumped. The rules changed, and apparently, my invitation to the next meeting got lost in the mail. Now, I get to watch her choose. Fantastic. There's a knock on the door. The knock comes again. Persistent. Annoying. "Yeah?" I yell, not moving. I don't care if I sound like a caveman. The knock comes again. I snap. “Who a

066: Raphael, stop!

~~PEYTON~~ “Arghhh.” I retch, doubling over. My throat is sore. My head is throbbing like a trapped drumbeat trying to escape my skull. And Axel is instantly here for me, holding my hair up and tucking it behind my ears as I wretch into a bucket. Another wave comes again. It feels like my body is trying to expel every poor choice I made over the last six months, not just the cheap whiskey. I grip the edge of the bucket, shaking violently. I’ve never felt this stupid for drinking. And Axel's presence is making it all worse. He doesn't say a word. He holds me steady—a wall against my back. He doesn't flinch away from the noise or the smell. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear with a gentle touch that makes the shame burn hotter. Raphael would have lectured me, or worse, he would have found the whole scene dramatic and interesting, probably asking me what emotional truth the alcohol was trying to reveal. But Axel? Axel just deals with the physical reality. What is his new

067: He's mine

~~RAPHAEL~~ I turn back, still gripping Axel's shirt. Mom? “Raphael, what the hell?!” Someone else bursts in, eyes wide. Charlotte. Someone else tags behind. Quinn. The hallway is suddenly filling with fucking witnesses, but Natalie doesn't hesitate. She looks past the shattered glass we broke that I didn't even notice, directly at Axel, who was still leaning against the wall, utterly broken. The next second, Natalie darts across the room. She bypasses the shards of glass and the pooling blood on the floor. She runs straight to her quiet twin. She rips my hands off Axel’s shirt with a ferocious strength I hadn't felt from her since we were children. She doesn't even look at me as she pulls Axel to her chest, hauling his wounded body into her embrace. “My boy,” she whispers gently, tilting his head back, cupping her hands over his cheeks. Seeing the bruises, she almost chokes on her gasp. “Oh, God, Axel. What did he do to you?” she cries, pulling him tight agai

068: My obsession, my disaster

~~PEYTON~~ Quinn holds my gaze for one more second, then turns to walk away. But my instincts take over. I move before my conscious mind registers the thought, grabbing the first solid thing I touch on the bathroom counter. I swing it with all the strength left in my body. It connects to the back of her head. Quinn doesn't scream. She doesn’t even stumble immediately. She freezes, suspended. I push her out of the way and run out of the bathroom, grabbing my bathrobe and whipping it on. My mind is screaming to go find someone sane. I burst out of the master suite. The hallway is silent, and I don’t slow down, running past the guest room, heading for the main lounge where I might find somebody. And weirdly, there are no footsteps behind me. Did she collapse? Whatever I grabbed wasn’t enough to… stun her. Or is she dead? Jesus, Peyton, focus. Find Brad. Brad is calm. Brad is sensible. He is too normal for this kind of psycho murder attempt. Yes! Raphael. Axel.

069: Where is she?

~~RAPHAEL~~I’d walked for miles, circling the grounds, trying to bleed the venom of the fight out of my system.Axel and I hadn't come to blows like that before. We fight, but with words, not our fists. That fight was raw, ugly, and it was… entirely my fault. I should have controlled my emotions. The way he looked at me when I said those things—the contempt, the utter lack of recognition—it burned worse than the bruise on my ribs.I pull the collar of my torn shirt closer. I wasn’t ready to face anyone or the inevitable clean-up, but the silence of the night is starting to feel less like peace and more like a suffocating judgment.I pull my phone out of my pocket. Three missed calls from Brad. I ignore them. Brad only called when he was dealing with Mom’s latest episode or if he couldn’t find the right vintage.I try calling Peyton, and it goes straight to voicemail. I try again. Voicemail.Is she mad at me?Or avoiding me?Makes sense.I check the time.Holy hell, it's late. My brai

070: He winked at you!

~~AXEL~~People think tragedy is loud. Like a bomb going off. But it’s not. It’s quiet. It’s the sound of tires losing their grip on wet asphalt. It’s the silence after the glass stops shattering. And it started with something so stupid. Something that didn't matter. Something you look back at years later and question your sanity. Odin. It was always Odin; he supplied us with trouble steadily on a daily basis.We all hated him. He was the type of guy who woke up choosing violence. He’d spent years tormenting me, making fun of Raphael, mocking my need for control. And Romona? The innocent little girl was the easy target.She was born with a slight limp; her left leg was weaker than her right. She wore a brace throughout middle school, and even though she didn't need it anymore by college freshman year, she still walked with that soft, uneven rhythm.She hated the brace, especially because of Odin's bullying. She ditched it to look "normal" and wear cute shoes, even if it made

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