All Chapters of Claimed By My Stepbrother : Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

I didn’t even feel the phone slide from my fingers. It hit the wooden floor with a soft clack. My knees bent, hands gripping the edge of the couch as I tried to suck air back into my lungs. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. I snatched the phone back up and checked the screen. I kept blinking, hoping it would change. Hoping I’d blink hard enough and see Tessa’s name, her bubbly little contact picture, something real and stupid and safe. But it didn’t. It was just dead air and that one damn phrase looping in my head. “If you’re not there in thirty minutes… consider your friend dead.” I didn’t even realize the tears had started. They just came—hot, fat streaks rolling down my cheeks as I stood there, trembling, one hand clutching my phone like it might anchor me to this moment. To reality. “Tessa,” I whispered. “Oh my god… no, no, no…” The panic hit next—like a wave knocking me flat. My knees went weak. I clutched the edge of the couch with my free hand and bent forw

CAMILA ~ “Where is Tessa?!” I shouted, the words ripping from my throat like fire. My fists clenched at my sides, shaking as I took a step toward Liam. “You said you had her—where is she?!” Liam’s smirk only widened, as if he’d been waiting for that. “Easy,” he beamed, holding up his hands like I needed calming. “She’s safe.” I blinked, breath catching. “What?” I asked, my voice cracking. “What the hell does that mean?” He shrugged lazily, like we were having a conversation over coffee. “It means she wasn’t kidnapped in the first place.” For a moment, all I could do was stare. The floor felt like it fell out from beneath me. My voice was a thin whisper now. “What…?” “Well,” he drawled, tapping his temple mockingly, “she’s human. We’re not idiots. We don’t hurt humans if we can help it. Especially not ones like her. She’s harmless. Sweet. Soft. The kind of girl you wrap in bubble wrap and keep far away from monsters.” He took a slow step forward. “You? You’re t

Liam dropped the gun quickly, his back hitting the wall as Ethan stepped forward. “Hey,” Liam said quickly, hands half-raised, his voice a notch higher than before, the polished confidence gone. “Think about this. I’m the son of a high-ranking official in the agency. You know who I’m talking about.” Ethan didn’t blink. “Killing me,” Liam went on, backing further against the moldy stone, “would put your kind in a very precarious position. You’d be lighting the fuse on a war you can’t win. My father won’t just sit back—he’ll come for all of you. Then HER.” That made Ethan stop. I sat up, shakily, my ribs aching, my face pulsing with heat where Liam had struck me. Blood was crusting along my lip. I didn’t even realize how hard I was crying until I felt the warm trails soaking my collar. Ethan turned away from Liam, like the man was a buzzing fly not worth swatting. His glowing eyes landed on me. And then everything about him—his stance, his shoulders, even his breathing—s

His mouth opened against mine, warm and hungry, and I melted into it like I’d been holding my breath for hours and he was the only air I needed. His hands slid up my back, tracing the curve of my spine through the wet strands of my hair, fingers spreading wide as they pressed into my skin. I clutched at his shoulders, feeling the powerful tension beneath his soaked shirt, his body so solid, so alive, it anchored me. When our lips parted, I was trembling—not from the cold, but from the storm that was Ethan. “Did you…” I whispered, blinking up at him, “did you see my message?” His brow furrowed slightly, lips still close to mine. “Message?” I leaned back just a little, searching his face. “Yeah. The one I left back at the cabin.” He paused, eyes narrowing in confusion. “No.” “Then how did you find me?” My voice came out softer than I meant, more fragile. He exhaled slowly, a hesitation in his expression that immediately gave him away. His eyes darted to the side, just

The warmth of the cabin didn’t erase the sting. I winced as Ethan crouched beside the bed, dabbing a soaked cloth gently over the scrape on my shoulder. The antiseptic bit at my skin, sharp and clean, and the scent of it mingled with the woodsy air around us. “Sorry,” he muttered, his brows furrowed like he was the one hurting. His other hand gripped the edge of the bed tightly, his knuckles white from restraint. “It’s fine,” I whispered. “Just get it over with.” He dipped the cloth again and moved to the bruise just beneath my collarbone. His thumb brushed my skin—by accident, maybe—but my breath caught anyway. His touch was soft but focused, his jaw clenched like every wound on my body was a personal failure. “You shouldn’t have gone alone,” he said after a beat, voice low. “I didn’t have time to wait around. They said they’d kill her, Ethan. What was I supposed to do?” His hand stilled, the cloth hovering inches from my chest. “You’re supposed to trust me,” he mum