บททั้งหมดของ Spoiled By My Overprotective Brothers : บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

By morning, the world had already turned upside down.Liana woke to the sound of her phone vibrating nonstop on the nightstand. Half-asleep, she groaned and reached for it — only to freeze when she saw the flood of notifications lighting up her screen.Hundreds of them.Her name was everywhere.Her picture was everywhere.And not just any picture — it was her and Viktor Moretti, stepping out of the private elevator last night. The angle, the lighting, the timing — everything about it screamed scandal.“Mystery woman spotted with notorious mafia lord.”“Viktor Moretti’s secret girlfriend revealed?”“Who is Liana Carver — sister of billionaire Leo Carver — and why is she linked to the underworld’s most dangerous man?”Her blood ran cold.She sat up abruptly, hands shaking as she scrolled. There were more pictures — Viktor’s hand at the small of her back, the car door opening for her, the faint smile on her lips

Morning came too soon, blinding and quiet.Liana woke to the sound of her phone buzzing endlessly. Her inbox was flooded — messages from her PR manager, stylists, and journalists, all asking the same thing: Was Viktor Moretti truly an investor in her company?She groaned, pulling the covers over her head.Yesterday had been a whirlwind. Leo’s fury, Viktor’s declaration, the contract — all of it felt like a dream she hadn’t wanted to wake up from. Except this dream came with headlines, secrets, and the weight of an entire empire watching her every move.Her door opened without warning.“Rise and shine, designer girl,” Dante sang, walking in with two cups of coffee. “You look like death warmed up in silk.”“Thanks,” she mumbled from under the blanket.He placed a cup on her nightstand and perched on the edge of her bed. “So… do we talk about it, or should I just pretend that I didn’t hear you signed a deal with a man

The morning sun filtered through the glass panels of Liana’s studio, painting golden lines across bolts of satin and chiffon. The faint hum of sewing machines filled the air, mingled with the soft laughter of her assistants.She was bent over her desk, sketching a new evening gown — something bold, sculptural, and impossibly feminine — when a soft knock interrupted her rhythm.Before she could respond, her assistant peeked in. “Miss Carver, there’s someone here to see you.”“Who is it?”The assistant hesitated. “She said her name is Aria Thorne.”Liana froze.Leo’s fiancée.She hadn’t seen Aria since that first visit to the mansion — months ago, when the elegant woman had stepped into their world like a quiet storm. Liana still remembered her — the immaculate posture, the faint scent of white lilies, the cool gaze that seemed to see through walls.“Send her in,” Liana said, standing quickly and smoothing her dre

The city was painted in gold that evening.Every skyscraper shimmered, every street reflected the pulse of luxury. Limousines lined the entrance of the Thorne-Carver estate — an architectural masterpiece of glass and marble — where the world’s most powerful had gathered to witness what was already being called the event of the year.Inside, chandeliers dripped with light, orchestras played soft waltzes, and diamonds glittered like stars fallen to earth.And at the center of it all — Liana Carver stood quietly, watching her creation come to life.Aria Thorne, dressed in Liana’s masterpiece, descended the grand staircase with Leo beside her. The gown flowed like water, luminous and ethereal, each movement catching the light in breathtaking ripples. The cameras flashed wildly, guests gasped audibly, and Liana felt something tighten in her chest.She did it.Her design was the center of attention — whispered about, admired, photographed. Every compliment Aria received carried Liana’s name

Morning came too fast. Liana hadn’t slept. Her mind had spun all night — flashes of Draven’s intense stare, Viktor’s dangerous smirk, Aiden’s easy calm. Three men from three different worlds, all crossing paths inside her studio like it was some sort of battlefield. By dawn, her nerves were a mess, and her brothers’ mansion — which was usually her sanctuary — felt suffocating. She dressed in a soft beige blouse, tied her hair back neatly, and decided to escape before Leo saw the news. But luck was not on her side. The moment she descended the marble staircase, she found Leo waiting in the living room — his phone in hand, his expression as dark as thunder. “Good morning,” she greeted cautiously. Leo didn’t return the greeting. He just raised his phone and turned the screen toward her. A photo — one that hadn’t been taken by any official photographer.