All Chapters of MY BROTHER-IN-LAW: Chapter 121 - Chapter 125

LIAM MARTIN'S POVThe pan hissed as the butter melted, thick and slow. My knife moved on its own—slice, scrape, drop—while my head wandered somewhere I wished it wouldn’t. That’s the curse of a quiet house: too much room for ghosts.Grayson Pittman was here tonight. Rare thing. Usually, the mansion just held his echo—meetings, flights, calls that never stopped. Lately, with Caisen in the mix, they were tearing themselves thin trying to leash a kingdom that didn’t want a leash. From what Conrad said, it was like herding wolves with a gold thread. Alliances where there used to be vendettas. Powerhouses who once spat in each other’s shadows now clinking glasses over the same table. Only those two could pull that off—Grayson with his cold precision, Caisen with that simmering steel in his veins.But all I could think about, standing there with garlic stinging my fingers, was how none of this started clean. Not for him. Not for me.I was seven when I met him. He was thirteen—already taller

LIAM MARTIN'S POVThe private room’s door opened before we reached it. Two men stepped out, pale with the kind of fear that wears expensive shoes. They slipped past us muttering promises to improve. Inside, Namgyu lounged on a low couch like he’d invented comfort and licensed it. Dark suit, shirt open, a chain at his throat catching little moons of light. When he saw Sierra, his whole face changed, the posture of his mouth shifting from predator to man.“My wife,” he said, standing, voice like velvet cut on glass. She went to him without hesitation. He took her in with his eyes first, then his hands, as if to confirm the shapes matched. When his gaze flicked to me, the warmth didn’t vanish; it cooled. Not unkind. Appraising.“Liam Miller, Uhh Martin i mean.” he said. “You look like a trouble i am going to face soon.”“Definitely not responsible,” I replied, and earned myself a laugh.He poured drinks himself, which is how you know a king is in a good mood. “To art & my love,” he said

GRAYSON PITTMAN'S POVThe silence of the villa was a relief. The club was a distant, buzzing memory, all loud music and cheap bravado. I stood in the entryway, loosening my tie and rolling my shirt cuffs, letting the quiet settle around me. But the peace was short-lived. I heard the clink of glass from the living room, and a familiar sense of fatigue washed over me. Liam wasn't ready to stop.He was already at the bar, grabbing a bottle I knew he shouldn't touch—not tonight, not after what he'd already had. His movements were a little too sharp, a little too deliberate, a desperate effort to seem steady. He was a precious stone, and I was the one tasked with keeping him safe, but he was also a wildflower—beautiful, wild, and prone to pricking anyone who got too close. He poured two glasses, and for a moment, I considered just walking away and letting him be. It would be easier. But that wasn't an option."You’ve had enough," I said, my voice as flat as I could make it. It wasn’t a com