บททั้งหมดของ Belonging To My Stepbrother After Divorce.: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Camilla's POVHis hand is on me. I don’t even recall how I got here. One second, I’m just trying to catch my breath after that argument with Theresa. The next, Matias is pulling me behind the side wing of the house, where no one ever really goes. His grip on my wrist is tight but not painful just enough to remind me that resistance with him is... pointless. Or maybe I don’t really want to resist.“Matias—”“Shut up,” he mutters, his voice low, nearly rough, like it’s crawling over gravel.He presses me against the wall, his hands bracing on either side of my head. My breathing’s uneven. My heart? It’s somewhere between fight and surrender.“You can't fight this honey,” he says, that cold smirk of his dancing at the corner of his mouth. “The more you, it makes me want to do something reckless even”My back hits the wall. The brick is cool, but it’s nothing compared to the heat pulsing through me. He moves closer, so close I can smell the faintest trace of spice on him. The scent I alwa

Matias POV“There’s blood on your hands.” Her voice is quiet fragile, almost like she doesn’t want to say the words out loud. Like the sound of them might change something between us, something irreversible. I look down slowly. Red. Dried in patches across my palms, beneath my nails, streaked like paint across my skin. It was the blood of one of my men I had touched earlier, I had been too angry to even notice. I don’t answer right away. I feel it again, that glint I saw earlier in her eyes. Suspicion. Doubt. It coils in my gut like something alive. Her gaze stays on me, searching. And for the first time in years, ..God—I stutter. “No… no, it’s not what you think.”Her brows draw closer. She doesn’t say anything, and I know I only have seconds to speak, seconds before the moment stretches into something I can’t fix. “I was driving earlier,” I say carefully, voice low but not cold, just rough, “and there was this guy on the road. He’d gotten into an accident. Bad one. Bleeding out

Matias POVI step into the kitchen and stop short. It’s empty.The lights are still on, and the warm scent of baked cookies still lingers in the air, soft and sweet, but she’s no longer here. The counter is clean, her apron neatly folded beside the sink. My eyes drift to the cooling rack, there’s a small plate with a napkin folded over it. My name is written faintly in her handwriting on a yellow sticky note. Saved these for you. She’s done baking. The silence stretches long. I exhale through my nose and turn away, my jaw tight as I walk out and climb the stairs, my steps controlled and silent. Every part of me is already weighed down by what I’ve decided to do. I hate this but I keep walking till I reach her room. Her bedroom door is slightly ajar. I push it open gently, and the soft creak gives me away before I even step inside. She’s facing the window, her back to me, her posture relaxed. Her hair is down now, falling over her shoulder like melted ink. She turns slightly at the

Camilla's POV When I wake, I’m in a sterile white room, a soft monitor beeping by my side. The scent of antiseptic and lavender fills my nose. My head aches, and my stomach feels like lead. I turn my head and see her. Jessica. Asleep in the visitor’s chair. Her jacket draped over her lap. She’s been crying. My throat burns. I reach for the IV in my arm and try to sit up, but a sharp pain stabs through my ribs. The nurse appears. “You’re awake,” she says, surprised. I nod. “Let me get the doctor.” Before she leaves, I stop her. “Don’t call my father yet or any relatives please~” She pauses, hesitant, but nods. “Okay.” I glance back at Jessica as she stirs awake. “Cam,” she breathes, reaching for my hand instantly. “Oh my God. You scared me to death.” “I’m sorry,” I croak. “No.” Her eyes search mine. “What’s going on with you? That wasn’t just stress and it wasn’t just exhaustion either.” I look away. “You’re sick,” she counters. “Aren’t you?” The silence answe

Camilla's POV My heartbeat thumps loud in my ears. “What?” I gasp, but my voice feels dry, thin, like it doesn't belong to me. Jessica’s eyes are still on me, her expression horrific now, caught between worry and caution. “I didn’t know at first,” she continues, speaking low, like someone might be listening through the walls. “London approached me, said Matias wasn’t in Italy anymore. Said he left again. But Jess… there’s something off about him. Cold. Like... predator-level cold. He gave me this look and I swear, Cam, it chilled me to my marrow.” I swallow hard, my throat catching. Jessica leans forward. “What exactly is Matias, Cam?” I try to speak, but I can’t. The name tastes like blood in my mouth. I close my eyes, but his face appears behind my lids, the last memory of him, eyes burning, jaw clenched lips pressed in fury the day I told him no. “I thought I knew him well enough,” I finally breathe.“But maybe I didn’t.” Jessica sits back slowly. “You do have a hunc