Alle Kapitel von Forbidden By Her Sister's Husband : Kapitel 61 – Kapitel 70

Aria flinched, turning her face away. “Don’t touch me.”Damian froze. His hand hovered in the air.“Don’t touch you?” he repeated softly. “You think you have the right to refuse?”He reached into his back pocket.He pulled out a small, black notebook.Aria’s blood ran cold. “No.”It was her sketchbook. The one he had stolen.He held it up. He flipped it open to a page she had drawn weeks ago—a sketch of his eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, looking at her.“Do you want me to show this to Cassandra?” he asked calmly. “Right now? Do you want me to walk into the living room and show her how her little sister spends her nights?”“Please, Damian,” Aria begged, tears springing to her eyes. “Don’t. She’ll hate me.”“Then stand still,” he ordered.He tossed the sketchbook onto the counter behind her. It landed with a thud.“Look at me.”Aria forced her eyes to meet his. She was trembling. Her whole body was vibrating with a primal, visceral fear.He reached out again.This time, she didn’t flinch.

The suitcase on Aria’s bed was open, gaping like a hungry mouth waiting to be fed.“Pack something slutty,” Cassandra commanded from the doorway of Unit 40B. She was wearing oversized sunglasses indoors, holding a Starbucks cup like a scepter. “We’re going to Atlantic City. The Borgata. I booked the Chairman Suite.”Aria folded a thin sweater, her hands trembling slightly. “Atlantic City? Cassandra, the Vow Renewal is next week. Shouldn’t we be resting?”“Rest is for the dead,” Cassandra snapped. “This is my last hurrah before I re-commit to the prison of matrimony. I want tequila. I want blackjack. I want to dance on a table.”“I have work,” Aria tried, a desperate lie. “The Archives…”“Damian gave you the weekend off,” Cassandra said, smirking. “I asked him this morning. He didn’t look happy about it, but he agreed. Said something about ‘minimizing collateral damage’ if I went alone. So, you’re the chaperone. Pack.”Aria stared at the sweater. Chaperone. She wasn’t going as a sister.

The day of the Vow Renewal.The heat had broken, leaving behind a crisp, perfect summer day that Cassandra claimed she had “manifested” through sheer willpower. The sky was a piercing blue, the kind that looked expensive in photographs.Aria stood in the bridal suite of the St. Jude’s Basilica, holding a bottle of hairspray like a weapon.“Higher,” Cassandra commanded, staring into the vanity mirror. “I want the tiara to sit up, not back. I’m not a debutante, Aria. I’m a queen.”Aria sprayed the curl. The chemical scent choked the air. She was wearing the silver silk dress Damian had forced her to buy months ago. It fit her like a second skin—cool, smooth, and restrictive. Around her neck, hidden beneath the high collar, was the silver padlock. On her wrist was the heavy steel watch.She was branded. Wrapped in his money. Bound by his gifts.“There,” Aria whispered, smoothing a stray blonde hair. “It’s perfect.”Cassandra turned her head left, then right. She smiled. It was a dazzling,

The email arrived at 8:00 AM on a Tuesday, breaking the sterile silence of the corporate apartment like a stone thrown through a glass window.Aria sat at the dining table—a slab of cold, gray marble that looked more like a morgue slab than furniture staring at the screen of her personal laptop. The cursor blinked at her, a rhythmic pulse of white against the blue light.Subject: Interview Request - Assistant Editor Position. From: The Radical Review.Aria read the subject line three times. Her heart, which usually beat with a dull, anxious thud, suddenly kicked into a frantic rhythm.The Radical Review. It was a small, gritty literary journal based in a converted warehouse in Brooklyn. It published avant-garde poetry and essays on urban decay. It had absolutely nothing to do with Cross Industries. It had no board of directors, no stock price, and certainly no connection to Damian Cross.It was a lifeline.Aria closed the laptop slowly, her eyes instinctively darting to the smoke detec

“What kind of notice?”“A litigation warning,” Sara said, her voice trembling. “It says any attempt to hire or solicit this employee will result in immediate legal action for corporate espionage and theft of trade secrets. Aria, it's a priority alert.”Aria stood up so fast the stool toppled over, clattering against the floor.“That’s a lie! I’m an intern! I don’t know any secrets! I'm an archivist!”“It’s a cease and desist order, Aria,” Sara said, backing away from her desk as if Aria were radioactive. “It’s from the legal department of Cross Industries. It says we’ll be sued for damages if we proceed. They've already logged the IP address of this computer.”“Please,” Aria begged, stepping forward, her hands outstretched. “Sara, listen to me. He’s just… he’s controlling. I can sign a waiver. I can do anything. I'll work for free, off the books.”“No,” Sara said, holding up her hands. “We’re a non-profit. One lawsuit from Damian Cross would bankrupt us in an afternoon. I can’t touch y