All Chapters of Spoiled By My Overprotective Brothers : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The morning sunlight spilled across the studio’s glass walls, warm and golden, yet Liana’s body was anything but calm. Her thoughts replayed Viktor’s words from last night like a loop she couldn’t pause. “We’ll finish this conversation properly.” She hated that her heart had skipped when he said it. Hated that his cologne still lingered faintly in the fabric of her sleeves, as if mocking her resolve. Liana dragged a hand through her hair, shaking the thought off. Today wasn’t about him. It couldn’t be. The fashion launch was less than a week away. Models were confirmed, Aiden’s schedule was cleared, and her brothers — though suspicious and overbearing — had promised not to interfere. For once, she needed things to stay normal. But “normal” didn’t exist in the Carver world. Her phone buzzed. Leo: “Meeting. Cassian’s office. Now.” She groaned, muttering to

Liana didn’t go home after the event. The adrenaline still pulsed through her veins, her heart racing with the kind of thrill she hadn’t felt in years. Her show had gone perfectly—better than she could’ve imagined. Reporters were already posting about it online, photos of Aiden wearing her designs spreading like wildfire. Every click, every share, every headline mentioning her name felt surreal.For once, the world wasn’t calling her Cassian’s sister or Leo’s baby sister.They were calling her Liana Carver — the visionary designer who just redefined elegance.She should’ve gone home to celebrate with her brothers, but she didn’t. Instead, she drove to the quiet rooftop garden above her studio, a hidden place she’d made her own. The city stretched endlessly below, lights blinking like stars, the wind gentle against her skin.She leaned on the railing, taking a deep breath.“Beautiful view,” came a deep voice behind her.Her stomach twisted — she knew that voice.She turned slowly. “Dra

The next few weeks passed in a blur of camera flashes, fashion deals, and headlines that made Liana’s life feel like a dream she hadn’t dared to imagine. Her designs had officially been chosen for a global showcase in Paris — something only the biggest names in the industry ever achieved.The announcement broke the internet.Articles hailed her as “the prodigy with a golden touch.” Magazines offered exclusive cover features. Luxury brands called daily, asking for collaborations. Even investors from Milan and Dubai reached out, eager to be part of “the Liana Carver phenomenon.”Every morning, the mansion was busier — assistants rushing through corridors, stylists arriving with racks of designer clothing, media vans parked at the gates.She loved it. And she hated it.Because the more the world tried to claim her, the more she missed the quiet — her brothers’ laughter at breakfast, Dante’s dramatic morning performances, Leo’s calm authority, Cassian’s dry sarcasm that somehow grounded h

The morning sun slanted through the tall windows of Liana’s estate, painting the room in soft gold. Despite the early hour, she was already awake, sketchpad open on her lap, fingers stained with ink and pencil dust. Her mind buzzed with ideas for her next collection, each design more daring than the last, each silhouette bolder than anything she’d tried before.Yet, even amidst the creativity, her thoughts kept drifting back to the men whose names had become inextricably linked with her life: Aiden Cross, Draven Dusk, and Viktor Moretti. Each of them carried a weight, a presence, a pull she couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard she tried.She pushed the sketchpad aside and stood, walking toward the balcony. The city sprawled beneath her, glimmering with opportunity and danger in equal measure. A soft chime at the door announced her visitor.It was Aiden.He stepped into the room, casual yet commanding. Even after all the time she had known him, he seemed effortlessly magnetic, every mov

The morning after the chaos in Paris, Liana sat in the presidential suite, still in her silk robe, surrounded by silence. The world outside buzzed with headlines about her groundbreaking fashion show — “Liana Carver: The Rising Queen of Fashion.” Yet, none of those words could drown out the image of Viktor standing there last night, calm amid the storm, his eyes sharp and knowing. She hadn’t slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the flash of weapons, the chaos, and his voice cutting through it all: “You’re safe now.” A soft knock came at the door. “Come in,” she murmured. Aiden stepped in, casual but visibly tired. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and his expression carried the weight of too many unspoken thoughts. “You didn’t sleep either,” she said softly. “Couldn’t.” He crossed the room and sat opposite her. “You should’ve seen the press outside. They’re calling you the future of fashion. You broke the internet, Liana.” She smiled faintly. “That’s good… right?” “