All Chapters of Craving the wrong brother : His obsession : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

~LIAM'S POV~The elevator ride to the penthouse was nauseating.My stomach stirred with every mechanical lurch, and I couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the fact that I could still smell her on my clothes from earlier.Vanilla and something floral. It stuck to my shirt like a blame.I looked down at my hands. My knuckles were split, the skin raw and angry.There was blood on them—some mine, most of it belonging to the guy who had made the mistake of bumping into me when I was looking for something to break.I flexed my fingers, wincing at the quick sting.The pain was good. It was grounding. It was the only thing loud enough to drown out the noise in my head.'Yvonne.'God, I couldn't escape her. I had gone to the club to get her out of my system, to find someone else and wash the scent of vanilla and innocence off my skin.Instead, I had nearly beaten a man unconscious because he wasn't her.Because nobody was her. Because my body had been trained in less than two weeks to respon

~YVONNE POV~"The most dangerous thing you can do to a man isn't taking your clothes off, Yvonne. It's making him wish his hands were the only thing keeping you upright."Liam spoke softly, but in the quiet of the Crimson Room, it sounded loud. We were by ourselves in the private lounge.The air smelled like old wood and the costly bourbon he had poured but hadn't drunk.The lights were dim, just bright enough to show the strong shape of his jaw and the tiredness—or maybe stress—tightening the corners of his eyes."Is that the lesson for today?" I asked. I tried to sound light, maybe even a little sarcastic, but my voice came out thinner than I wanted."How to be a damsel in distress?""No." Liam walked a slow circle around me. His footsteps made no sound on the thick rug. "How to be a siren. Today is about the power of touch. Not the grab, not the cling. The brush. The accidental contact that burns."I stood in the center of the room, smoothing my hands down my charcoal pencil skirt.

~ARTHUR'S POV~You know what the problem with "perfect" women is? They know they're perfect.They expect you to worship them, to put in the work, to be present every single damn second. It's exhausting.Holly was perfect on paper. She was blonde, leggy, came from the right family, and knew exactly how to lead the shark tank that was my social circle.She was the kind of woman my mother, would nod approvingly at. But God, she was high maintenance."Arthur, look at me," Holly commanded, her nails digging into my shoulders.I blinked, pulling my head back from where I had buried it in the curve of her neck. We were in my bed, the silk sheets caught up around our legs.The lights were dim, the city skyline shining behind us through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was a scene from a movie, exactly the way I liked my life to look.But it felt like work."I'm looking, Holly," I muttered, forcing a smirk. I ran a hand down her side, gripping her hip. She had a great body—taut, gym-honed, ex

~YVONNE'S POV~The screen of my phone was the brightest thing in the dark booth. The white light burned my eyes, but I couldn't look away from the words sitting there in the gray bubble.'Come over. Now. I miss you.'—Arthur.A week ago, my heart would have stuttered.I would have already been in a cab, checking my reflection in the rearview mirror, desperate to be the version of myself he wanted.I would have read "I miss you" as a declaration of love, ignoring the command of "Come over. Now." that came before it.My thumb paused over the keyboard. The cursor blinked, waiting for me.I typed O—Then I stopped.I deleted the letter. The typing bubble would have flashed on his screen for a second, then vanished.I set the phone face down on the sticky wooden table.The vibration of the music in the floorboards traveled up through my legs. This wasn't my kind of place. It was a dive bar I had found on Yelp, tucked away three streets from my apartment.It smelled like musty beer and lemon

~LIAM POV~The blonde piece of shit was leaning against the wall by the women's restroom, arms crossed, looking smug.Like he was waiting for her to come back. Like he thought he still had a chance.He straightened when he saw her peek out from behind me. His eyes lit up. He didn't even look at me.Big mistake."There you are, love," he drawled, his accent making every word sound even more condescending. "Why did you run? All I wanted was a little conversation. Maybe some company for the night. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"The sound that left my throat wasn't human. It was a growl, pure and primal. I didn't speak. I didn't pose. I didn't give him time to register the danger.I crossed the distance between us in two steps.My hand shot out, grabbing him by his collar and twisting the expensive fabric until it choked him. His eyes bulged, the smug smile vanishing instantly."What the—"I didn't let him finish.I turned and threw him through the door of the men's restroom. Not agai