All Chapters of Claimed By The Tyrant Brother : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Naomi’s POV The Chinese restaurant was insane. Candlelight made every dish look like it belonged in a magazine, and the servers hovered just enough to make me feel important without being annoying. I took a bite of the perfectly cooked duck and leaned back, letting myself enjoy the moment. No yelling. No guilt. No parental eyes following me like I was a criminal. Just me, Delilah, and a city that didn’t give a damn about my past. But even here, I couldn’t completely escape myself. I remembered snapping at Delilah earlier, after Mom’s bullshit favoritism and cutting words. I apologized, of course, but the guilt still gnawed at me. I’d never forgive my mom for manipulating me, for making me angry, for making me feel like a monster for daring to live my life. I was trying to focus on my food when my phone buzzed. Sofia's calling. Ugh. Listening to her is suicidal. . Dad has been calling since I disappeared without telling them but I'm not ready to speak to him. I froze for a secon

Caleb’s POV The next morning, the cell smelled worse than death itself. Sweat, piss, stale smoke—it clung to the walls, to my clothes, to my skin. I’d barely slept because every time I shut my eyes, I saw Delilah’s cold stare walking away from me like I was nothing. Like I didn’t exist, and it hurts. Across from me, Thorne sprawled on the bench like he owned the place. Arms stretched out, head tipped back, a damn smirk tugging at his lips as if this were some luxury resort instead of a rotten cell. He hadn’t said a word since last night. He just sat there, breathing too calmly, looking too smug. I kept glaring at him. He ignored me like I was invisible. I heard the familiar clicking of heels and I looked up to see Delilah. “Delilah,” I rasped, clutching the bars. “You came. Thank God—you know I don’t deserve this. Tell them I need to get out. Tell them—” Her eyes slid to me for the briefest moment, then, slowly, they moved past me to Thorne. My chest burned, cracking open like gl

Delilah’s POV The paper bags cut into my palms as I trudged up the porch steps, the weight of groceries digging into my arms heavier than it should have been. Maybe it wasn’t the food. Maybe it was just me—dragging my feet back into a house that no longer felt like home. I shoved the door open with my shoulder and stepped inside Aunt Vivian’s house. I didn’t even bother to glance at her, didn’t even try to force the polite smile I used to wear out of habit. She’d lost the right to it the day she opened her arms to Caleb like he was some long-lost nephew instead of the man who’d shattered me. And the day she lied about Thorne. So, nope. Our realtor she will remain strained until she apologizes for the betrayal. I mean, Thorne had looked me dead in the eye and sworn my mother was never part of his past. Sworn Aunt Vivian had twisted that truth. I believed him—or maybe I just wanted to. Either way, every time I looked at her now, all I saw was betrayal stitched into the lines of her

Trigger Warning: This chapter alternates between Cheryse’s and Caleb’s POVs.Cheryse’s POVThe satin gown itched at my shoulders, no matter how many times I snapped at the maids to adjust it.“Don’t drag the veil,” I hissed, slapping one’s hand away when she fumbled with the lace. “Do you know how much this costs? Idiots.”My reflection stared back at me from the mirror—perfect curls, blood-red lips, diamonds catching the light. This was supposed to be my day. My triumph. And yet, every polished surface reflected not only my beauty, but the gnawing fear that something, someone, would ruin it. But I'd kill them before they could.“Enough,” Mother’s voice said from behind. Daphne stood at the doorway, calm as a queen, her eyes sweeping over me with pride. The maids are doing their best. A bride should glow, not snarl.”I rolled my eyes, turning back to my reflection. “A bride should be obeyed, Mother.” “You’ve done well, Cheryse. You’ve secured him. When you left, I didn't know how yo

Delilah’s POV PARIS….“Oh, the bitch is back.”I froze in the doorway, hand still clutching the strap of my bag. Estelle’s words slithered across the grand dining hall like poison. it was already late and the maids were serving dinner.I should have been used to it by now—the way she always spat venom the moment she saw me—but something about Paris made it sting sharper. The last time I saw her was at Caleb's party. God, I forgot she'd be here in Paris. I'm in no mood for her bullshit.I squeezed my face, forcing it into something like composure. Pretend, Delilah. Pretend. That’s how you survive here with your in laws.Thorne’s towering presence at my side felt like a huge relief. We walked in, slowly. Maxwell Jon Weston sat at the head of the table, eyes gleaming like a man who knew he owned every soul in the room. He’d been that way since the day he met me—since my mother died and my aunt nearly crumbled under the weight of it all. Jon had extended a hand, offered her a “job,” a p