All Chapters of Claimed By The Tyrant Brother : Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Thorne’s POV I didn’t wait for her to steady herself. I just scooped her into my arms, ignoring the stares from others in the club as we walked out, the low hum of music bleeding out of the club doors behind us. She was trembling, her breath uneven against my neck, and all I could think was how damn right it felt to have her there—close, pliant, trusting me again.Damn.She fit against me like she always did, soft curves against rough edges, a puzzle I could never stop trying to solve. When I opened the car door and settled her inside, she curled toward me instinctively, and it was over for me right there. That tiny motion—like her body remembered before her mind ever could—wrecked me.I’d told myself to stay away. Hell, I’d promised it. After she drove off that night, eyes full of hate and heartbreak, I swore I’d give her space. A month sounded reasonable. Let her breathe easier, you know.But I lasted three days—barely. Three days before I found myself boarding a plane to Tus

A foot of charged air vanished as he crowded me against the cool, textured wall. The bass from the club’s speakers vibrated through the plaster and into my bones. It was a faint echo compared to the thunder of my own heart. “Please,” I’d breathed, and the word was a key turning in a lock I’d sworn to keep sealed. Fuck every shred of restraint, fuck aunt Vivian’s matchmaking.His laughter was hot. “Since you asked so nicely.”One hand, large and demanding, slid up my inner thigh, pushing the silky fabric of my dress into a bunch at my waist. His other arm caged me in, his body a furnace against my front. There was no preamble. His clever fingers, found the damp center of me through my panties, applying a pressure that made my knees buckle. A rough, guttural sound escaped me, lost to the music. His fingers hooked into the side of my soaking underwear and with a sharp rip, the delicate lace gave way. He didn’t discard them. He brought the scrap of black fabric to his nose, inhaled de

Delilah's POV She nodded. “Apparently, the real mother… she fell down the stairs while she was pregnant. She went into labor early. The baby survived, but the doctors—someone bribed them to say the baby had died. They told her he was gone. And the poor woman believed it. I heard she fainted from the shock.”Something inside me went completely still.The air seemed to thicken… the world seemed to slow down.Irene kept talking, unaware that I could barely hear her anymore. “My sister didn’t know until recently. She recognized the woman by chance, on the news , but by then it was too late. She’s been desperate ever since, trying to find the mother, to make it right, but she doesn’t even know where to start. I just… I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s horrible, I know. Please don’t think badly of us.”My lips parted, but no words came out.My hands were shaking. My mind was spinning backward, to that hospital room, to the sterile white walls, to the smell of antiseptic and the nurse’s f

Delilah's POV Hours later, I sat at the dining table, absently poking at my toast, straining to hear any sign of Irene stirring in the guest room. She just couldn’t come out fast enough.God, she was taking so long to come out.Aunt Vivi had already gone out for her morning rounds, and Naomi still hadn't returned from the club party.I didn't sleep again despite promising Aunt Vivi I would.Finally, footsteps creaked softly down the stairs. I looked up, expectantly to see Irene. She was wearing one of Aunt Vivi’s robes, hair brushed, skin pale but clean, her bruises were even fading.She smiled timidly, her voice barely above a whisper.“Good morning, Delilah.”“Morning,” I said, setting my fork down. She hesitated, then walked closer, wringing her hands together.“You look better,” I added because it felt like the polite thing to say before bombarding her with questions.“Thanks to you,” she said softly, her eyes darting everywhere except my face. “I just… I wanted to thank you. An

Delilah’s POV He was in my kitchen.My kitchen.I blinked twice, convinced I was still dreaming, because what kind of sane man breaks into a woman’s house at two in the damn morning to make himself a meal like it’s a five-star restaurant he owns?“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said finally, folding my arms. “You left your apartment—wherever the hell that is—to come make something in my kitchen?”Thorne barely looked up from the pan, his tone maddeningly casual. “Don’t be so mad, sweetheart. Mine’s flooded.”I let out a dry laugh that came out more like a scoff. “Flooded? That’s your excuse? You live in a building worth more than this entire street, Thorne, and you expect me to believe you came all the way here because your kitchen got a little wet?”He shrugged, his mouth twitching like he was amused by my irritation. “You don’t have to believe it. You just have to deal with it.”“Oh, I’m dealing with it, all right.” I took a step forward, my frown deepening. “What I’m not dealing