Lahat ng Kabanata ng My Brother's rich best friends: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

PARKERIt’s a donor. Mid-fifties. Wealthy. Smells like leather and truffle oil. He’s already had three glasses of something golden. “I wanted to say—just beautiful. Really. Top-tier. And the rescue partnership? Brilliant move.”“Thank you,” I say, forcing my best gala-appropriate smile. “We’re thrilled to support the expansion.”“I have a buddy in Marin with a Doberman that eats six hundred dollars in vet bills a month. I told him—‘next year, you’re writing a check!’” He laughs. I nod. Someone claps again nearby.A girl in a sequined trapeze outfit does a slow somersault in midair from one red silk ribbon to another. The crowd gasps.I excuse myself with a polite, “So glad you’re enjoying yourself,” and slip away before I say something truly unhinged like I’m going to vomit on your shoes. I find a quiet corner, ducking behind a floral display near the mirrored hallway that leads to the lounge.The hallway is the only part of this place that’s normal. The rest is all illusion.Golden l

JACKA gasp rises from the hallway just beyond the lounge doors—guests catching a glimpse of the scene. Two staff members stand frozen mid-step, someone’s champagne glass sloshing from the sudden stop.Vanessa groans. Rolls over. Blood is already starting to trickle from her mouth.Parker steps forward slowly. Kneels beside her. Voice loud enough for everyone nearby to hear her ask, “Oh no. Are you okay?”Vanessa groans again. Her lip’s already swelling. One tooth—front and center—is cracked. Its match is three feet away from her, with a tiny bloody trail behind it.“I tried to warn you,” Parker coos, brushing Vanessa’s hair gently off her face. “The uneven floor in here is brutal. You poor thing.”Behind her, Gavin’s stunned. Harrison has both hands on his hips like he’s trying not to burst out laughing. I’m somewhere between horror and awe.Parker stands up and brushes her dress smooth. “I can’t believe she tripped,” she says, turning back to us.I clear my throat. “Me either.”Harr

GAVINThere’s a quiet that settles between us then. Not uncomfortable. Just thick. Like the adrenaline hasn’t worn off yet but the crash is coming. I don’t usually crash. But tonight, I feel close. Too close. So I speak. To keep myself from thinking too hard. “Honestly?” I say, “I’ve never been more relieved to watch a disaster unfold.”Jack glances at me. “You were smiling when she hit the floor.”“I was. Just a little.”“She looked like a pelican falling out of a tree,” Parker mutters.Harrison snorts.“Icon PR’s new slogan,” Jack says. “‘Graceful as falling teeth.’”We laugh. All of us. It’s short and sharp and necessary. But the moment doesn’t last long. Because Harrison’s face shifts. Subtle. But I see it. Like a shadow passes behind his eyes.He straightens. Reaches into his jacket. Pulls out his phone again. And I know something’s coming. Something heavier than Vanessa. Harrison’s thumb moves across the screen like he’s skimming something for the fifth time just to be sure. His

HARRISONI try to speak again, but Gavin’s already turning away, hands on his hips, pacing in a tight line like he’s about to explode. And maybe he will. Because everything in him is cracked right now. He’s not just angry. He’s trying not to fall apart in front of the only people who’ve seen him broken before.Jack watches him. I watch both of them. And for a second, everything in the room is heat and tension and unspoken grief.No one says anything else. The worst part isn’t the yelling. It’s the silence after. When no one knows what to say next, because everything that could have been said was said too loud, too fast, and too damn personal.Gavin’s back to pacing, but slower now. Like his body still hasn’t figured out how to calm down. Jack’s near the catering carts, arms crossed, jaw flexing like he’s chewing on restraint. Neither of them looks at me. Not directly.I’m not sure if it’s because they’re still pissed, or because they feel how close we all came to something that couldn

PARKERBut she just squeezes my hand again and says, “You want to talk about it?”My throat tightens. “Not really.”“Okay.”She waits. That’s what she does. She doesn’t prod or scold or guilt-trip. She just gives me space until I either fill it or start crying inside of it.I exhale slowly. “It isn’t like last time.”She nods.“I mean, I wasn’t…alone. And I wasn’t being careless. I was on the pill. It wasn’t supposed to happen.”She stays quiet.I keep going. “I didn’t plan on any of it. Not the job. Not the gala. Not…them.”Her brows lift slightly. “Them?”I nod, blinking back tears. “It’s not just one guy this time.”“I know.” She says it without judgment. Not even surprise. Just that soft sadness I hate—because it means she’s hurting for me.I try to explain. “It wasn’t a game. It wasn’t like I walked in there planning to fall for my bosses. It just…happened. Slowly. Then all at once.”She tilts her head, and her eyebrow jumps a little. “All at once? Together?”“Yes.”Her mouth twi