All Chapters of Triplet Temptation: My stepbrothers are triplets : Chapter 351 - Chapter 360

~LUCAS~I start packing before sunrise, and it's not because I'm excited or ready for the trip, but because if I don’t keep my hands busy, my mind will go back to that night—and I can’t afford that.I fold my shirts with more force than necessary, stack my files neatly, then rearrange them again like something will magically change if I do it twice. My suitcase lies open on the bed, half-filled, half-neglected… just like my thoughts.I'm dreading the three weeks I'll be stuck with her.I zip the bag halfway, pause, then unzip it again.No…. there's no way I'll make this trip all about her. It can't be.I straighten, dragging a slow breath into my lungs, forcing clarity into my head.I'll survive this trip. That's the plan.I don’t need to be in her good books. I don’t need to talk to her, unless it's necessary. I don’t need to acknowledge anything that happened.Especially not that.Ignoring Fiorella until it's necessary is the only way this works. The only

~LUCAS~By the time I step out of her room, my patience is hanging by a thread.The door shuts behind me with a quiet click, but it doesn’t match the noise in my head. Everything in me feels loud….too loud for a hallway that looks like it was designed for silence and control.I stand there for two seconds, staring at her door like it personally offended me.Annoyance burns under my skin, sharp and relentless, mixing with something else I don’t want to name. Something far more dangerous.Then I drag a hand down my face and start walking fast. Because if I don’t move, I might actually turn back and say something I won’t take back.And that’s not an option, not here, and not with her.My footsteps echo softly against the polished floor, but there’s nothing soft about the way my jaw is clenched or the way my fists keep tightening and loosening at my sides.Fiorella Vincenzo is impossible. She's so complicated. And she's going to be a problem.No….she already is.And the worst part? She kno

~FIORELLA~Lucas steps into my room again, and just like that, the space between us disappears.Though it's not physically, but something about having him in the room again makes everything feel… smaller, closer, and more intense.I walk toward the bed, picking up my tablet.“Show me.”He moves beside me, close enough that I can feel the heat from his arm.His arm is not touching me, but it's too close.I keep my eyes on the screen. He leans slightly, pointing at a section.“This part,” he says. “We’re both explaining the same concept differently.”I glance at it, and I see that he's right Of course he is.“We merge it,” I say, and he nods in agreement.“Exactly. We should.”We fall into a rhythm after that…. talking, adjusting, refining.There's no tension or arguments this time, just work.And somehow, that feels even more dangerous.Because this ease is not supposed to exist between us. Not after everything. Not after that night.Not after the way we look at

~LUCAS~“Good morning, once again,” I begin, my voice steady but less rigid now. “If you are here, it means you chose law. Or perhaps… law chose you.”“But what is law, really? Is it rules? Statutes? Courtrooms?”“Or is it something else entirely?” I add. “Because the truth is….law is not just what is written. It’s how it is used.”“Before we proceed,” I say, my voice steady, measured, “I want to ask you something.”The room is quiet, waiting, and attentive.I let my gaze sweep across the students, slower this time. Not scanning like before. Not analyzing exits or corners.I'm actually looking at them now.“How many of you chose law because you were told it’s a powerful career?”A few hands go up, hesitant and uncertain. And I nod slightly.“And how many of you chose it because you believe you can make a difference?”More hands this time. Some go up faster. Some are higher.There’s a shift in the room. It's small, but noticeable.I take a step away from the de

~LUCAS~No!!!No, that didn’t just happen.For a second, I’m convinced I misheard her.“I won’t be needing the projector.”My brain rejects it immediately. Flat-out refuses to process it. Because that would mean…That would mean Fiorella just stood in front of an entire room full of students and dismissed the presentation we worked on…. together.“No,” I mutter under my breath, barely audible, my gaze locked on her back. “That’s… no. That’s not possible.”It has to be some kind of mistake. It has to be some kind of setup. Or it has to be a joke.Yeah. That’s what it is. A joke.Except then she keeps talking.“I didn’t prepare any slides. That’s more for… nerdy people. Or people who like to do too much.”And the room laughs.The room actually laughs.My fingers curl slowly against the edge of the desk beside me as the words settle in. As they sink in deep enough to burn.She didn’t just ignore the slides. She mocked them, and mocked me.My jaw tightens so hard it