Todos los capítulos de Tangled With The Other Brother: Capítulo 311 - Capítulo 320

Heather's Point Of ViewThe silence in Lexy's living room wasn't peaceful; it was suffocating. Every tick of the antique clock on the wall felt like a needle poking straight into my frayed nerves, each second stretching into an eternity of dread that pressed against my ribs like a physical weight. It had been four agonizing days. Four long, agonizing days without a single text, phone call, or whisper of news from Jaxx. Four days of staring blankly at my phone screen until the light burned my eyes, praying for a signal, a notification, literally anything to tell me that my sister wasn't lying dead in some cold Italian ditch. I'd barely eaten. I'd barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, some new horrific scenario played out behind my eyelids, each one worse than the last, until I'd started leaving the lights on just to keep the images at bay. I sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, my legs trembling so violently that my knees were practically knocking together. Across the coffee tab

Graham's Point Of ViewThe world seemed to completely fall apart around me. "Jaxx..." I whispered, my voice dropping into a dark, terrifying, blood-curdling murmur as I stared out the blacked-out window at the passing Italian countryside. "Jaxx... you bastard..." The name tasted like ash in my mouth, bitter and unfamiliar, as if I were speaking of a stranger rather than the brother I had spent my entire life dismissing. I had spoken his name a thousand times before, always with contempt, always with the casual cruelty of someone who believed themselves untouchable. Now it felt like a curse, heavy on my tongue, refusing to be swallowed. I tried to summon the old scorn, the familiar sneer that had always accompanied his name, but it wouldn't come. In its place sat something colder, something that felt disturbingly close to fear. I slumped back against the stained leather seat, my bloody fingers curling into a tight, helpless fist against my knee. I was penniless, bleeding out in a d

Graham's Point Of View"That's impossible, Graham! Stop talking trash!" Sebastian snapped, his voice booming across the grand living room, though a sudden tremor betrayed him. He began pacing back and forth across the polished hardwood floor, his hand waving dismissively in the air, as though he could physically bat the words away. The muscles in his jaw twitched, and his eyes refused to settle on any one point in the room, darting instead like a man searching for an exit that didn't exist. "You're bleeding out! You've lost too much blood, you're feverish, and you're hallucinating nonsense! You come back into my house, wanted by the law, and instead of giving me a sensible explanation, you spin some ridiculous fairy tale about the underworld?!" He stopped abruptly, glaring down at me with sharp, panicked eyes that betrayed a fear he refused to name. For a moment, the mask of the untouchable patriarch slipped, and beneath it, I glimpsed something rawer… something almost like a man dr

Jaxx's Point Of ViewA week had passed since I woke up in this grand, quiet bedroom in my grandfather's Tuscan villa. My wounds were healing slowly, the dull ache in my cracked ribs settling into a manageable throb, but right now, I couldn't care less about the pain. Cradled against my chest like a child was my princess, Elena. Her soft, dark lashes rested peacefully against her flushed cheeks, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling in a steady, perfect rhythm. Morning light slipped through the tall shutters, gilding the curve of her shoulder, and for a moment I simply watched her breathe, memorizing the way her lips parted slightly in sleep. There was a stillness to this room that I had never known in my old life, a quiet so complete it almost frightened me, as if the world had finally agreed to leave us alone. I leaned down slightly, pressing a soft, lingering kiss right against her warm forehead. "I love you, princess," I whispered into the quiet room. As if she could

Jaxx's Point Of ViewThe eleven-hour transatlantic flight passed like a dream I never wanted to wake up from. We played cards on the low wooden table between the leather couches… or at least tried to, until I caught Elena shamelessly hiding aces under her knee and called her out on it. She denied it with such wide-eyed innocence that I nearly believed her, right up until three more cards slipped out from under her thigh, and she dissolved into helpless giggles at her own terrible acting. We talked about everything and nothing at all, piecing together the broken years we had lost, filling in gaps neither of us had realized still ached until we spoke them aloud. I learned about the summer she'd spent teaching herself to paint, the disastrous first job she'd been fired from within a week, the way she still couldn't watch thunderstorms without thinking of her father. In turn, I told her things I'd never said aloud to another living soul… the nights I'd lain awake wondering if she was s