Todos os capítulos de Faking It With My stepbrother : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Lila’s POV“If you ever want to feel like a snack in a room full of sharks, just walk into a billionaire’s foyer wearing a leather jacket and a look that says you’re ready to commit several light felonies.”The Hartley mansion didn't just look like money; it looked like the kind of place where joy went to be strangled by silk curtains and silent help. It was cold, cavernous, and currently, it was the den of the girl who had tried to set my life—and my stepbrother—on fire.I didn't knock. I’d spent the last hour fueling my courage with spite and a very sugary latte, and if I didn't do this now, I’d probably just go home and hide under my bed until graduation. I pushed past the distracted maid and followed the sound of a Chopin nocturne being played very, very badly.I found Vivian in a music room that had more gold leaf than a cathedral. She was sitting at a grand piano, her shoulders hunched, looking less like a queen and more like a ghost."The acoustics in here are great," I said, l

Asher’s POVThe air at the "Dead Man’s Curve" was thick with the scent of burnt rubber, cheap beer, and enough high-octane ego to fuel a rocket ship. This wasn't Harrington Academy with its polished marble and polite backstabbing; this was my world. A world where the only thing that mattered was the roar of a 1200cc engine and the size of your balls when you hit a hairpin turn at midnight.I sat on my bike, adjusting the leather glove over my bandaged hand. It throbbed, a rhythmic reminder of the fire and the explosion, but I barely felt it. I was too busy staring across the asphalt."Check your oil, Vale. You look like you're vibrating," Snake muttered, slapping the back of my helmet."I’m fine," I snapped, though I wasn't looking at him. I was looking at Lila.She was standing near the starting line, wearing a cropped denim jacket and a pair of boots that looked ready to kick some teeth in. She looked like a masterpiece—a splash of whimsical color in a sea of gray concrete. But she

Asher's pov “Tell me she didn’t sign it, or I’m going to pull these IV tubes out and use them to strangle someone.”The words came out as a raspy growl, my throat feeling like I’d swallowed a handful of dry gravel and a lit match. I tried to sit up, but the world performed a violent 360-degree spin that made me want to throw up the nothingness in my stomach. A sharp, white-hot spike of pain shot through my ribs, and my left arm felt like it had been replaced by a heavy, throbbing brick of plaster.“Easy, Tiger. You’re currently held together by medical tape and sheer spite,” Jax’s voice drawled from the corner.I blinked, my vision finally settling. Jax was leaning against the hospital window, looking surprisingly ruffled for a guy who usually had every hair in a state of perfection. Next to him stood Lila. She looked small, her eyes rimmed with red, but when she looked at me, that unpredictable spark was back—the one that told me she was currently more dangerous than the bike that h

Asher’s POV“If you’re going to threaten a man who has spent half his life evading highway patrol and the other half disappointing a billionaire, you’d better make sure your own glass house isn’t made of sugar glass and bad intentionsThe silence in the loft was thick enough to choke on, but I wasn’t the one suffocating. That privilege belonged to Mr. HartleyHe stood there, gripping that tablet like it was a holy relic, his face twisted into a mask of smug superiority. Beside him, Vivian looked like she’d already spent the legal fees she expected to collect from our ruin. They thought they had us. They thought they’d caught the big bad biker and the whimsical charity case in a trap they couldn't escapeI felt Lila tremble slightly against my side. I shifted, stepping further in front of her, my good arm forming a protective barrier. Behind us, Jax had gone deathly still—the kind of stillness that preceded a predatory strike"Well?" Hartley prompted, his voice dripping with condescen

“If we’re going to survive this dinner, I’m going to need a lot more wine and significantly fewer people named Sloane.”I adjusted my cufflinks for the third time, staring at the mahogany door of the Silvercrest Country Club’s private dining room. Usually, I excelled at the ‘civilized’ part of my life. I was the Golden Boy; I was built for high-stakes dinners and keeping a smile on my face while sharks circled. But tonight, the sharks were my best friend, his stepsister, and a blonde ghost from my past who was currently clinging to my arm like a designer barnacle.Sloane smoothed her skirt, her expression a mask of icy perfection. “Try to look less like you’re walking toward a firing squad, Jax. It’s just dinner with your friends.”“Friends,” I echoed, my voice flat. “Right.”We stepped inside, and the tension hit me like a physical weight. Asher and Lila were already seated. Asher looked like a caged animal in a dress shirt, his jaw set in that familiar, stubborn line. But Lila? Lila