All Chapters of MY BROTHER-IN-LAW: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVBlack marble floors. Red interiors. The kind of décor that tries too hard to be dangerous—like a cheap mafia flick that never made it past the cutting room floor.The air reeks of whisky—rich, heavy, and sharp enough to burn your lungs. The kind of scent that pulls your spine into a shiver, makes your knees feel like water.My drug is ready. Already dissolved into my drink, just enough to blur the night around the edges. Make it survivable.So I don't feel the blows. Or worse.Even thinking about it makes my stomach coil, makes my skin itch to be turned into canvas. A violent sketch. Something raw and obscene only I could draw.I've been waiting. An hour now.He's late tonight. Which means he'll be hungrier when he arrives. They always are.I drop in another pill. Let it swirl, untouched. I'm not allowed to drink until he does.He's my regular. The worst one.Every scar on my back? A gift from him.A monster dressed like a man, wearing a sheep's smile.And I still

CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVThe lights were too bright. The music too loud. My breathing? Too uneven.I stood in the middle of the club wearing the most outrageous outfit I could find—black mesh shirt, glitter around my eyes, leather pants that screamed "notice me" even though I'd kill to disappear.I bought it all from the mall two hours before walking in here. Not my style. Not my comfort.But I needed a new skin tonight. Something loud enough to distract from the tremble beneath.Because I knew who I was here for.Him.The monster who made me what I am. Who branded my shame like a scar that never faded. And who, according to intel, would show up any minute.I didn't tell anyone how much my hands were shaking. Not Lucian. Not Ilya. I insisted on coming alone. I was stubborn about that. I said it was my mission, my revenge.But truth?I didn't want anyone else to see me like this. Weak. Fractured. Teetering on the edge of becoming that boy again.Sixteen.Helpless.Naked in someone else's v

CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVThe hallway was dim, lit only by red neon bleeding through the frosted glass. My boots echoed down the corridor as I headed toward the VIP room—the one I had carefully mapped out, watched from a distance, waited two damn years to breach.It should've been routine.But nothing about this night had gone according to plan.I pushed open the heavy velvet curtain, stepped in—And stopped.Empty.No laughter. No guards. No scotch glasses clinking over hushed bribes. No scent of cigars or sweat-soaked threats.Just emptiness. The monster was gone.Edward Miller.He had been here. I know he had.And now he was gone.Slipped through my fingers like smoke while I was busy on my knees... for someone else.My fists clenched at my sides.The mic was still in my pocket—untouched. The plan, shattered. The evidence? Lost to the dark.And Lucian?What the hell was I going to tell him?That I failed? That Edward vanished while I was too busy keeping Caisen from blowing the entire

CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVHe was too quiet.I didn't notice when he entered the office, but I felt the shift in the air the moment he stopped behind me. The silence stretched, thick and strange—until he spoke, voice coated with disbelief and something far more dangerous."What the fuck is this?" His tone didn't have anger, but something menaces like he has been pissed at something.I turned slowly, my blood running cold the second I saw what he held in his hand.The photo.That cursed photograph. The one where Lucian had his arm draped around my shoulder, both of us smiling like we didn't belong to a world soaked in blood and lies. I meant to hide it. Meant to burn it. But I couldn't let it go. It was stupid. Sentimental."Is this what you stare at when you think no one's watching?" he snarled, stepping closer. "You got a little schoolboy crush on Lucian now?"I didn't answer. My jaw tightened. My hands twitched at my sides.But he saw everything.He always did.Caisen's eyes darkened. Fur

CAISEN VALENTINE'S POVOut of that velvet coffin of smoke and stupidity.Back into the night where I belonged.Because I didn't need distractions.I needed blood.And soon—Edward Miller would see exactly what kind of son his sins had raised against him.Liam and I? We've been inseparable since the beginning. Not by choice—by survival. Because when you're raised in hell, you cling to the only soul who doesn't try to burn you.And Edward? That bastard gave Liam everything except what mattered. Not freedom. Not peace. Not a goddamn ounce of dignity.The day he handed over his own son to some filthy businessman for a deal—that was the day he dug his own grave. With his own hands. Smiling. Proud.He's not a father. He's a goddamn psychopath. A parasite in a silk suit. The kind of monster who doesn't just destroy you—he makes you thank him for it.He's got enemies clawing to rip him apart—vultures, every damn one. His business partners.Me—his fucking son, born from his filth, forged in his