All Chapters of Claimed By The Tyrant Brother : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Delilah’s POV“Look, Thorne,” I rasped. “I can’t handle this anymore. I’m going through hell because of you.” My hands clenched into fists. “Do you even realize what you’ve turned me into? Sneaking around, suffocating under your temper, second-guessing every step I take because I’m scared you’ll explode. I can’t breathe with you watching me like a predator. I can’t live like this.”His jaw tightened, eyes glinting with something feral.“You don’t trust me anymore,” I went on, my voice breaking. “It’s like Paris has changed you—everything has changed. The secrets, the lies, the threats. It’s messing with my head, Thorne. I don’t even know who the hell I am anymore when I’m around you.”He tilted his head, his lips curling into that dangerous half-smile that made my stomach twist in equal parts fear and want. “And who are you when you’re with Caleb? Hm? The perfect little wife again?” His voice dipped low, taunting. “Tell me, Delilah, are you thinking about it? Having a kid with him aga

(Alternating POVs ahead.)Caleb’s POVI leaned against the wall outside her door, arms crossed, jaw tight. The faint splash of water reached me through the wood. She's having a bath, no doubt.For a second, temptation coiled in my gut. All I had to do was lean closer, press my ear against the frame, maybe even…shit. I clenched my fists in frustration. Am I really doing this?I shouldn't act like some desperate pervert again.Dragging a hand through my hair, I forced myself back down the hall, steps echoing against the polished floors. The villa was silent except for the storm outside, thunder rolling through the windows.That’s when her phone lit up on the side table.I frowned, walking closer.Her phone was unlocked and I saw Thorne’s name blinked again and again, one missed call after another. And then the messages:>>Your car is at the mall. Wtf are you??>>Pick up, Delilah.>>Where are you?I chuckled under my breath. So the mighty Thorne does worry, after all. Cute. But unfortun

Delilah’s POV The rain had stopped hours ago, but the streets were still slick and shimmering under the Paris streetlights. I’d had just enough time to duck into the mall after the villa, get out of the soaked clothes, and dry my hair before stepping back out.Caleb slid into the passenger seat, his smile way too easy for someone who had just driven me around. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves.“Okay… here’s what happened,” I said, glancing at him, trying to make my voice sound casual. “I got stuck in the mall… my car wouldn’t start. And… Well, I got wet, so I had to—uh—change.” I waved vaguely at my damp hair, hoping he wouldn’t scrutinize. “And just… don’t even think about mentioning the villa, okay?”He chuckled, the kind of too-bright, infuriating smile he always gave. “Mmm… makes sense. But you should stick to something simple. Say you visited a friend, and on your way back your car got stuck, and I just happened to pass by. Hence, you’re in my car. Easy.”I blink

Delilah’s POV My head was foggy as I struggled to open my eyes, my arm hurting terriblySlowly, my eyelids fluttered open to the sight of Estelle Weston perched at the edge of my bed, a tray of food balanced on the nightstand.Of all people. Why is she here?For a second, I thought I was hallucinating. Painkillers. Blood loss. Something. Because there was no way Estelle—Caleb’s stepmother, the woman who never missed a chance to slice me open with her tongue—was sitting here with maids bustling around, fluffing pillows, smoothing blankets, bowing to her slightest gesture like she was royalty. Is she here to laugh that I got shot by my husband?“You should eat,” Estelle said smoothly, her voice honeyed but cold underneath. She gestured at the steaming bowl of soup. “The doctor said you need strength. After… such an ordeal.”My stomach rolled violently at the smell, nausea clawing up my throat. I pressed a hand against my lips, shaking my head quickly. “No.” My voice cracked. “Take it a

Naomi's POV I was still in shock.I don't know how long I sat down, curled up on the floor after he did that to me. When it was over, he walked out like nothing happened, mumbling something about making dinner.The ceiling blurred above me. My ears roared like static. I wasn’t in my body anymore; I was watching from somewhere far away, a little girl screaming behind a locked door.Gosh.I could still feel him. My mind was a black hole of disbelief.Did he just—?The thought wouldn’t form all the way. If I said it, it would be real.I forced myself to move, to get up. My legs wobbled like paper. I stumbled to the dresser, yanking on the first clothes I could grab, hands trembling so badly I could barely pull them on.I needed my phone. I need to speak to anyone. I needed to get out of here.I patted the nightstand, the bed, the floor. Nothing. Then I remembered that he’d taken it earlier, like he always did, to “check” things. Shit. I'm toast!Heart pounding, I darted for the hallway.