All Chapters of MY BROTHER-IN-LAW: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVI stared at the ceiling, flat on my back, the shadows of the fan blades cutting across the plaster like knives. The room was quiet — too quiet — but inside my head, it was deafening. I couldn't sleep. Again.Every time I closed my eyes, I felt him. His breath on the side of my neck, his hand gripping my wrist too tight, his laugh echoing like a curse under my skin.I thought pulling that knife on him would scare him off. That maybe — just maybe — he'd finally see me for what I really am: dangerous, untouchable, not worth the trouble.But instead... it encouraged him.That smile he gave me when I pressed the blade to his throat — it wasn't fear. It wasn't even anger. It was hunger. Like I'd just woken up some sleeping demon in him and he was grateful.I can still see his eyes when he leaned into the blade, just enough to nick the skin on his neck, and I could imagine him whispering to me"Finally, baby boy... finally showing some teeth."I should've run then.I sh

CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVAt twelve, he started bringing me to the private parties — the ones in the hidden rooms, behind velvet curtains, where only his inner circle was allowed.At thirteen, he started dressing me in his colours, sitting me on his lap while he smoked and discussed deals with politicians and generals.At fourteen, he started letting me speak. Letting me serve drinks and whisper in ears and be seen — because by then I knew how to smile at the right people and make them forget they ever had a conscience.He'd feed me the finest food, drape me in silk, and when the others watched, he'd laugh and tell them:"This one earns every Dollar I spend on him. More than any of you ever will."We — my sister and I — were given a room of our own.Small, but clean.Better than anything we'd known before.But the price of the small room was higher than my dignity, my life, my soul.And every night, when I came back from serving him, she'd already be curled under the blanket, pretending to

CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVThe next morning in the office felt like walking straight into a warzone.The air was sharp, heavy with words unsaid but loud enough to cut through skin.Lucian sat at the head of the conference table, his jaw set, his pen moving furiously over some contract he clearly wasn't reading. Caisen, sprawled lazily at the other end, was spinning a crystal paperweight between his fingers like he owned the room.Technically, he could own it if he wanted to. That's what made this worse.In the past two years, he has been growing his empire like crazy and not to mention he is crossing Lucian's way in the mean.My place, as usual, was to the side — invisible and indispensable.But today, their silence wasn't just awkward. It was hostile.Every once in a while, Lucian's dark eyes would lift and shoot toward his brother, and Caisen would smirk in response, like he thrived on it."Conrad," Lucian said finally, snapping me out of my quiet prayer for this meeting to end before bl

CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVWe end up sitting on the grass near the carousel as the sun dips lower, streaking the sky with gold and orange.I lean back on my elbows, too tired to keep glaring at him, too full of ice cream and adrenaline to care about how absurd the whole day has been.He sits beside me, legs stretched out, arms draped carelessly over his knees — the picture of someone who owns the world and couldn't care less about it."You're quiet," he observes after a while."I'm tired," I say."Good tired or bad tired?""...Both."He chuckles under his breath.A long silence stretches between us, but for once it isn't tense.Finally, I can't help it. "Why'd you bring me here?"He doesn't answer immediately.When he does, his voice is softer than I expect."Because" he says simply, eyes fixed somewhere far away, "you deserve to remember what it's like to be... nothing. Just a kid. No debts. No missions. No Extra workload. Just... you.""You don't have a liking towards me then why all this

CAISEN VALENTINE'S POVEdward — the same man who paraded himself as untouchable — had been willing to hand over his son like currency to save himself."You see now?" Liam murmured, too close to my ear."Your great monster doesn't even care about his own blood. What chance does anyone else have?"My hands tightened on the edge of the table until the wood creaked.But then — something else caught my eye.Another folder. Buried deeper. Unlabelled.I opened it.And froze.Video clips. Not of the brothels this time — but of him.Conrad William, My Conrad William.In grainy black-and-white footage, younger — maybe sixteen — being led down one of those velvet corridors. His wrists bound, his shirt torn. The same dead eyes as the others. Forced to his knees. Men's hands gripping his jaw, shoving whiskey to his lips, unbuckling belts above his head. And through it all, he never flinched. Not once.The next clip was worse. He was older — eighteen maybe — sprawled on Edward's lap in so