Todos os capítulos de TAMING THE BILLIONAIRE; My Brother's Best Friend : Capítulo 141 - Capítulo 150

Ethan's pov The silence in the dining room closed around my neck like a vise. They all looked at me as if waiting for me to say something rational—something normal. But there was nothing normal about what I needed to say.I swallowed hard.“Aaron, he’s aliveGil’s hand shot to her chest, her chair bumping against the floor. Gil's eyes widened, glinting with hope and terror. Connor paused in midsentence, a forkful of food in his mouth. Mom’s hands went to her mouth. Dad stopped reading, his paper falling to the floor.“What?” Connor asked first, voice cutting, as always when it came to discussing things that were delicate. “That—Ethan, that can’t possibly be. Don’t—don’t say things like that.”Gil spoke no words. She was fixed on me, her body motionless. A mother who’d lost a boy six years ago. A woman who’d suffered his loss, buried his memory, and waited for answers that never came. And now she sat before me, shaking with fear, in terror of breathing, in terror of blinking, in terro

Ethan’s POVI was still sitting on the floor outside Jill’s door when it opened.I didn't know how long I'd been there. Long enough that my legs had stopped working. Long enough that the house had fallen silent in a way that only grief can produce—where even the air inside the walls is heavy with quiet breathing. I hadn't gotten up because I didn't know where to go. Going seemed inappropriate. Trying to call again seemed mean.So, when the door finally came open, I jumped like a child who had been caught doing what he shouldn't be doing.Jill’s face was red-rimmed from crying, tears hanging on her eyelids as if refusing to fall. Her shoulders were hunched, as if she were preparing to withstand a gust of air that only she could sense. For a moment, she just looked at me. Then her face dissolved.“I don't get it,” she rasped. “I don't get any of this.”I felt my chest constrictShe stepped back, but I followed her inside without needing to be prompted. The air inside was thick with the

Connor’s POV Jack was able to get a two o'clock flight for me.He did it like it was no big deal, like it was just another favor between us, but his eyes kept flicking back and forth between my clenched fists and something told me he knew something was very wrong.“Fastest route I could get,” he said as we walked through the airport. “You’re welcome.”I didn't react.My head was buzzing. Not thoughts, noise. Rage. A low violent hum that thrummed beneath my skin that wouldn’t quit no matter how deeply I breathed. With each step toward the front of the room, it felt like I was being pulled by something ugly and ancient that had been lying in wait six years.Jack cleared his throat. “So, you want to tell me why you called me, sounding like you were getting ready to kill somebody?”I must have stopped walking and turned on him so abruptly that he nearly knocked into me.“Don’t,” I saidHe held out both hands. "Fine. Fine. But Connor, come on—this is not your typical radio silence."I beg

Aaron's POVI should have seen this coming.This image weighed heavily on my mind long before any punch landed on my flesh. Inevitable and heavy, like the hand of fate catching up with me at long last, six years into my game of evasion. I didn’t know where Ethan was, but I didn’t have to. Connor’s presence told me all I needed to know.He knew.He knew Paul.He knew about all the deceits.“He knows there is a wedding, a Benson, a company, a way in which I have wrapped Ethan in half-truths and desperation, naming it love,” he said, his voice a low, monotone hum, a drumbeatHow could I blame Ethan for telling him? Ethan had sat in this house, had played the part of my fake fiancé, had grinned in photos, had tolerated whispers and persuasion and my silence. He had borne the weight of my secrets as though they were his transgressions.If anything, this—that whatever Connor had planned for me—was a shadow of what I deserved.Before the door had scarcely finished opening, the first punch ha

Ethan’s POVI did not know how I managed to remain so idle.I'd spent the entire day staring obscenely at the wall across from where I slept, as if it might magically open up and give me some direction. My body ached as though a part of me had been hollowed out and filled with dead air. I felt as though I both felt and didn't feel at the same time. Thoughts swirled through my mind in a fractured cycle: a phrase begun, a fear glittering but not defined, until even standing up became a chore.When I finally made a move, my legs betrayed me and weakened beneath me, as if they belonged to someone else.The bathroom light was too bright. I turned on the shower without thinking, turning the knob until the water was ice cold. The cold slammed into me as soon as I stepped into it. I needed something, anything to penetrate the migraine that had taken residence behind my eyes for weeks now.The water poured down over my head, down my face, down my back. I put my hands against the tile wall an