Semua Bab Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend : Bab 1 - Bab 8

Josephine “Well, this should be interesting.”The voice cuts through my carefully rehearsed presentation like a hot knife through butter, and I already know this day is about to go sideways faster than my last relationship. I haven’t even gotten to slide two of my meticulously crafted merger presentation, and someone’s already betting against me.“Excuse me?” I turn toward the source—a silver-haired executive whose Rolex probably costs more than most people’s yearly salary.“Nothing, dear. Please, continue with your… strategy.”Dear.The condescension drips off his words like syrup off a stack of pancakes, and I’m already calculating how to destroy his entire existence with nothing but a PowerPoint transition and my razor-sharp tongue.But I smile instead. Because that’s what professionals do. We smile while plotting corporate murder.“Right. As I was saying—” I click to the first slide, my laser pointer steady despite the fact that my internal monologue is currently screaming profan

Josephine“Anyone but him.”The words ricochet through my skull like bullets in an echo chamber, and I’m pretty sure I’ve entered some kind of cosmic joke where the universe specifically designs scenarios to fuck with my mental health.I burst through the doors of Boardroom A like I’m storming the beaches of Normandy, except instead of liberating France, I’m about to have my soul crushed by Italian leather loafers and family dysfunction. My heels are practically drilling holes in the marble—click, click, click—a staccato rhythm that sounds suspiciously like my sanity snapping in real time.The floor-to-ceiling windows are doing that thing where they flood everything with golden hour light, probably because even the architecture is dramatic in this goddamn building. But all I can focus on is the Category 5 hurricane brewing in my chest cavity.Alexander Madrigal.Of all the spectacular disasters I could be managing on this fine Thursday morning—insider trading, tax evasion, accidentall

Alexander The duffel bag sits on my bed like a judgment, canvas and zippers mocking everything I used to be.I stare at it, arms crossed, jaw locked tight enough to crack molars. This piece of shit luggage—probably bought by some assistant who got fired three scandals ago—represents the spectacular crater my life has become.It’s the first time in approximately forever that I’ve had to pack my own clothes. No personal shoppers, no wardrobe consultants, no army of people paid ridiculous money to know the difference between Tom Ford and toilet paper. Just me, two hands, and a pile of designer fabric that suddenly feels like expensive evidence of my failures.Six months, Alexander. Prove you’re not a complete waste of DNA or stay in Tuscany permanently.My father’s words loop in my brain like a death sentence disguised as motivation.And now I’m being relocated to some corporate-owned purgatory like a deposed dictator under house arrest. Babysat—actually fucking babysat—by the one woman

Alexander After Josephine leaves, the apartment falls into a silence that’s almost too loud.I pace a slow loop between the kitchen and the living room, staring at the couch where we kissed. Where we didn’t stop. Where we started something that ended with her coming apart beneath me and walking away after I fell asleep.I can’t shake the feeling that last night changed things, and not just between us.It’s in the way she avoided my eyes this morning, in the stretch of silence that wasn’t awkward but thick with somethingunspoken. Like we’re standing on the edge of something, hearts racing, waiting for someone to move first.My phone buzzes with a text on the counter, and I don’t have to look to know who it is.I don’t read it, I hit call instead.Nicholas answers on the second ring. “You’re up early.”“I haven’t really slept, especially after our conversation last night.” I drag a hand through my hair.“Any word?”“Nothing solid. But I talked to two of my guys. Bratva leadership deni