All Chapters of Kissed My Ex's Brother : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Lila's POV Next evening came faster than I expected my phone buzzing early morning with his text telling me exactly where to show up La Royale at 8 PM sharp one of those fancy restaurants downtown that charged more for atmosphere than food. I'd spent the whole day torn between burning that black dress and slipping it on curiosity winning out as I stood in front of my mirror at 7:30 PM smoothing the slinky fabric over my curves thin straps digging slightly into my shoulders plunging neckline showing just enough skin to make me question my life choices. Makeup on point red lips bold smoky eyes hair cascading loose down my back I grabbed my clutch and headed out Marco dropping me off at the curb because Elena insisted on safety even for my mystery dates telling myself this better be worth the hype. La Royale glowed golden against the night sky valets opening car doors for suited couples while I stepped inside cool air hitting my bare back immediately the hostess stand gleaming

Lila's POVMorning sunlight sliced through my bedroom curtains hitting me square in the face while I groaned rolling over expecting some peace after last night's restaurant revenge feast but instead the doorbell rang sharp and insistent three times before 9 AM like the universe itself conspired against letting me sleep even one extra hour today. Dragged myself out of bed shuffling to the door in ratty pajamas peeking through the peephole finding two suited delivery guys absolutely stacked with glossy designer boxes the black Birkin crocodile leather shining bright under hallway lights diamond case sparkling dangerously Louboutin heels poking from smaller packages massive bouquet of white roses towering over everything looking exactly like his obsessive signature style that I'd come to both dread and expect over this past month. Signed for it all my arms loaded down heavy as I climbed the stairs back to my apartment dumping the entire mountain unceremoniously across my coffee table b

Elena’s POV I’ve been giving Adrian the silent treatment all evening, and it feels damn good. He knows exactly why—club night with the girls was my plan, the one thing I’d been craving after a brutal week of lectures and studying. But no, Mr. Control Freak had to shut it down. “Too risky right now,” he said, like I’m some fragile thing that can’t handle a dance floor. Risky? Please. I’m not the one dodging shady business deals. So here I am, sprawled on the penthouse couch in my tight black dress—the one that hugs every curve just to mess with him—arms crossed, staring at my phone like it’s more interesting than his brooding ass in the kitchen. He’s been trying everything. First, the flowers—roses, my favorite, dumped on the coffee table an hour ago with that puppy-dog look. Ignored. Then the diamond earrings, sparkling under the chandelier lights, left on the side table with a note: For my firecracker. Cute, but nope. I flicked them away with one finger. Now he’s pacing, running

Adrian’s POV The phone kept buzzing like a damn hornet trapped against my palm, Alex’s name flashing over and over on the screen. I stared at it for a good ten seconds, jaw tight, the echo of Dad’s tirade still ringing in my ears. Last thing I needed was more family drama, but ignoring him would just mean ten voicemails later. With a muttered curse, I swiped to answer, leaning back in the leather chair as the conference room’s silence pressed in.“Alex,” I said, voice flat, already bracing for whatever bomb he was about to drop. “This better be quick. Milan’s on hold because of you.”His laugh came through sharp and bitter, the kind that always grated—half-entitlement, half-wounded pride. “Yeah, well, family emergencies trump your fancy watch deals, don’t they? Heard Dad paid you a visit. Stormed out of your office looking like he wanted to disown you on the spot. What’d you do this time, Adrian? Finally piss him off enough to cut the golden boy cord?”I pinched the bridge of my nose

Adrian’s POV The office was a fortress of focus that late afternoon, sunlight slanting low through the blinds as I hunched over the desk, spreadsheets sprawling across both monitors. Shipments from Sicily needed sign-off—Enzo’s latest batch of rare vintages clocking in at seven figures—and the Milan team was breathing down my neck for approval on a warehouse expansion. Papers stacked neat to my left, coffee gone cold in the mug, phone silenced except for emergencies. Taking care of the empire meant no loose ends; Dad’s shadow loomed large enough without me slipping.Door creaked open without a knock—only one guy pulled that move. Enzo sauntered in, dark suit rumpled from back-to-back meetings, carrying two steaming coffees like a peace offering. “Figured you’d be buried alive in numbers. Black, no sugar. Don’t say I never do anything for you.”I leaned back, grabbing one with a nod. “Timing’s perfect. Sit— these manifests are killing me. Your Sicilian contacts came through?”He droppe