Spoiled By My Overprotective Brothers のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Liana had lived most of her life quietly, so quietly that sometimes she wondered if she had ever truly existed.In Victor’s house, she had been like a shadow: invisible, unappreciated, endlessly pushed aside. Days were measured by humiliation, nights by tears. No one had cared whether she smiled, whether she ate, or whether she dared to dream.But in the Carver mansion, life was completely different.She awoke that morning to silk curtains fluttering gently in the breeze, the scent of fresh lilies drifting from the vase Dante had insisted be placed by her bedside. Breakfast—a tray laden with fresh fruit, buttery croissants, and her favorite hazelnut latte—had been delivered without her asking. She blinked at it, still not accustomed to the idea that someone could care for her so lavishly, not as a duty, but as a joy.By the time she dressed, the day had already been planned for her—not with chores or obligations, but with delights.“Try this one,” Dante said with dramatic flair, holdi

Leo Carver rarely prepared for anything the way he did for this particular evening. For most of his life, the world adjusted to him, not the other way around. His presence alone commanded rooms, bent negotiations, and secured alliances worth more than nations. But tonight was different.This was no ordinary gathering. It was the private circle—an exclusive club of men who had reshaped industries, bought governments, and held empires in their hands. To be invited was to be acknowledged as one of the most powerful living forces in the global economy. Billionaires begged for entry. Only titans sat at the table.And tonight, Leo wasn’t going alone.He stood in front of his mirror as his valet adjusted the cufflinks on his black tuxedo. Everything about him radiated calculated dominance—the perfectly fitted jacket, the sharp line of his jaw, the measured composure in his eyes. Yet, his mind wasn’t on himself.It was on his sister.“Is she ready?” he asked without looking away from his refl

The morning began with a mystery.Cassian had appeared at her door precisely at ten, composed as ever, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Get dressed, Liana. We’re going for a drive.”She had blinked at him, still tangled in her robe. “Where?”“You’ll see.”He offered no further explanation, not even when she pestered him through her morning routine. By the time she stepped out into the marble foyer, Dante was already waiting in ripped jeans and an obnoxiously loud designer jacket, bouncing on his heels.“I still don’t know where we’re going,” Liana muttered, eyeing them both suspiciously.“Patience,” Cassian said smoothly, leading the way toward the sleek black car waiting outside.Leo was nowhere to be seen—apparently wrapped in meetings—but something in Cassian’s calm demeanor and Dante’s bubbling energy made Liana’s stomach flutter with anticipation.The drive carried them out of the city, past its endless skyscrapers, until the landscape softened into rolling hills. Liana presse

The morning sunlight spilled gently across the Carver mansion, golden rays catching on polished marble and crystal chandeliers. Liana awoke slowly, cocooned in the kind of softness she once believed only existed in fairy tales. Her bed was enormous, the sheets silky against her skin, the scent of fresh roses drifting from a vase placed by her bedside.It had been days since the estate reveal, and still she couldn’t shake the surreal wonder of it all. Every morning began with luxury and ended with laughter. Her brothers spared no effort in reminding her—through gifts, affection, and endless spoiling—that she belonged to them now, and she would never be invisible again.That morning, Dante was the first to appear, barging into her room with his usual dramatic flair.“Up, up, up!” he sang, tossing a box onto her bed. “Today’s spoiling begins with breakfast and surprises.”She groaned, burying her face in the pillow. “Dante, it’s too early for your energy.”“Too early for me? Never.” He t

The afternoon sun slanted lazily across the marble floors of the Carver mansion when Cassian received the call. He had been expecting it for days—business with a man who wasn’t just a client, but also an ally whose name carried weight in darker, sharper circles of power.By the time the black convoy of cars rolled up the driveway, the mansion’s atmosphere had already shifted. It was impossible not to notice the quiet thunder of engines, the synchronized movements of men in tailored black suits stepping out, their weapons hidden but their intent obvious.The Carver home was no stranger to security, but this was different. These weren’t guards. These were mafia men, hardened and loyal, their very presence radiating the language of blood and loyalty.And at the center of it all was Viktor Moretti.He was a legend whispered about in both boardrooms and back alleys. Italian-born, carved from steel and smoke, a mafia lord who built empires with a b