Semua Bab My Fiance's Brother : Bab 21 - Bab 30

Chapter 22 TW: The subsequent chapters might contain, intense emotional conflict, aggression, rough sex. Reader discretion advised. Please read with caution. DAMON; I am obsessed. Fucking, utterly obsessed with my girl, who thinks she would be getting married in about two weeks. My hands were tight on the wheel as I drove, knuckles white against the leather. Every time I blinked, I saw her face at the pool, wet hair clinging to her cheeks, that trembling lip she bites when she’s about to cry. I scoffed as I recalled the deal Marcus and I made. I'd be damned to wait until Liv decides who she wanted. I definitely wasn't about to sit around and let her make a decision she'd most definitely regret later on. She needs a Kingston? I'd give her a Kingston other than Marcus. Make the choice easier for her. Case closed. By the time I pulled into the underground parking lot of my clubhouse, my chest was vibrating with it. That old, familiar anger I used to keep buried under booze and b

CHAPTER 24 Olivia; I watched as Damon’s fist flew forward, landing directly on a horrified Marcus’ jaw, sending him flying off the booth instantly. I screamed. Loud. Rooted in place, praying I was hallucinating—but no, I wasn’t. It was happening right in front of me, and Damon wasn’t stopping. He launched toward Marcus and grabbed the collar of his shirt, landing punch after punch on his face. “No—stop!!” I reached forward, but my sight blurred and I almost fell on my heels. I grabbed a table for balance, heart hammering in my chest. I looked around for Marcus’ friends, but they were already scrambling toward the exit, shouting and cursing as they ran. I forced myself to stand on shaky feet, eyes fixed on Damon, who still wouldn’t stop. “What is wrong with you!?” I cried out. The room spun. My knees hit the edge of a table, pain shooting up my spine. A whimper escaped my lips. Only then did Damon pause, his head snapping toward me. Marcus was coughing and groaning on the grou

Chapter 26 Damon; I watched her cheeks flush deep red as my words registered in her head. Her eyes were dazed and unblinking as she lowered herself on my face. Her movements were sloppy, but I was getting impatient already, so I grabbed her thighs and then spread her legs wider in one fluid moment. Her dress was already bunched to her waist; she was drenched between her thighs, evidence of how badly she wanted this, how badly her body craved this no matter how much she tried to deny it. "Sit," I ordered. And she did, my hands on her thighs supporting her. But her movements were still sloppy and unfocused, and it pissed me off. I didn’t want sloppy; I wanted desperate. I wanted her smothering me. So I grabbed her ass and hauled her down, grinding her against my mouth until her heat fully covered me, wet and pulsing, until there was nowhere else for her to run. The second my tongue hit her clit, she screamed. Loud and raw, head thrown back, and all I could hear was her r

Chapter 28 Kimberly; The last time I was this scared, almost to the point of a near panic attack, was five years ago, when Marcus almost died saving someone he’d always looked up to. And now this. I didn’t know what to expect when I got the call from him just a few minutes ago, but I knew something was wrong the moment I heard his voice. It was low. Weak. Barely even there. The second I stepped into the club, I froze. The place was ruined...bottles smashed across the floor, tables overturned, chairs scattered. Glass crunched under my shoes as I moved forward, my chest tightening. Then I heard him. “Kim…” His voice was so faint I almost missed it. My heart dropped. I ran. He was slumped on the floor near the corner booth, face bloody and bruised. His nose was bleeding, bad. “Marcus…” I dropped to my knees, hands shaking as I reached for him. The moment my fingers brushed his skin, he winced. “No… no… aren’t there people here? How could they leave you like this?” My voice c

Chapter 30 Marcus I fucking hate hospitals. Maybe it’s because every time I’ve been in one, it’s been for reasons I’d rather forget. The smell of antiseptic clung to the air—sharp, cold, and too clean. It makes me feel small, stripped down, like I wasn't myself. I wasn’t weak—but hospitals always made me feel that way. They always do. The doctor stood at the foot of my bed, hands clasped behind his back, his tone calm but firm. “He’s fortunate,” he began. “His vital signs are stable, but we’ll need to keep him under close observation for the next 24 hours to monitor for any complications—especially neurological ones. We’ll run another scan to make sure there’s no delayed swelling or bleeding in the brain.” Relief flickered through me, but I didn't let it show. "Thank goodness," Wendy said, her voice softer this time. The doctor left, and before the door even closed, Wendy turned to me for what felt like the hundredth time. “I still can’t understand why you’re protecting th