Semua Bab Craving the wrong brother : His obsession : Bab 51 - Bab 60

~YVONNE'S POV~The lobby of Klein Corporation looked the same as it did a week ago, with a lot of glass that made you feel small. However, this time, walking through the revolving doors felt different.Maybe it was the dress...one of the ones Liam had picked out, a deep burgundy that actually fit my body instead of drowning it. Maybe it was the fact that I had actually slept well for the first time in days. Or maybe it was just that I had finally stopped apologizing for taking up space.Whatever it was, I felt different, and apparently, I looked different too.Vivian, Arthur's secretary, did a full head-to-toe scan the second I stepped off the elevator, her eyes widening just slightly before she caught herself and rearranged her face into something that was probably supposed to be professional but came off more like she had just seen a ghost wearing designer clothing."Yvonne," she said, and there was a weird note in her voice I could not quite place. "You're back.""I'm back." I adj

~YVONNE'S POV~The drive to Liam's place was quiet in the best possible way—not the uncomfortable silence that came from having nothing to say, but the easy kind where neither of us felt the need to fill the space with meaningless conversation.I watched the city go by outside. The buildings changed from shops to houses. The cars got fewer as we left the busy center. I tried to think about everything that happened today.Arthur's "I love you" that came three years too late. Holly's knowing smirk when she interrupted us. The way he'd watched me all day like I was something he'd lost and couldn't figure out how to get back. The desperate texts that were probably still piling up on my silenced phone."You're thinking too loud," Liam said, his voice pulling me back to the present.I looked over at him. "Sorry.""Don't apologize. Just tell me what's going on in that head of yours."I considered lying, saying it was nothing, but we'd agreed to try being honest with each other, and that me

~THIRD POV~The whiskey tasted like guilt.That was Arthur's fourth thought of the evening...after "I'm an idiot," "I should probably stop drinking," and "why the fuck isn't she answering my calls"....and he was starting to think maybe it was the most accurate one.He was at a fancy bar in River North. Drinks there were super expensive, costing as much as a week's worth of groceries for most people. He just looked at his phone, hoping for the answer he'd been waiting for all day.Nothing.Radio silence from Yvonne, which was somehow worse than her telling him to fuck off would have been, because at least anger meant she still felt something.His phone buzzed. Holly's name flashed across the screen for the seventh time in an hour.He declined the call."You want another?" the bartender asked, already reaching for the bottle of Macallan 18 that Arthur had been steadily working through."Yeah." Arthur pushed his glass forward. "And keep them coming."The bartender poured a drink, not as

~LIAM'S POV~Arthur was drunk.That was the first thing I registered when I opened the door—not surprise that he had shown up at my penthouse at damn near midnight, not anger at the interruption.just the cold observation that my perfect older brother was swaying slightly on his feet with whiskey on his breath and something wild and desperate in his eyes that I had never seen before."Arthur." I kept my voice flat, bored even, because I knew it would piss him off. "What the fuck are you doing here?""Where is she?" He didn't wait for an invitation, just pushed past me into the penthouse, his shoulder hitting mine hard enough that it would've been a challenge if I thought he was sober enough to mean it. "Where's Yvonne?"I should have stopped him right there, should have shoved him back into the hallway and slammed the door in his privileged face, but something stubborn in me wanted this.Wanted him to see exactly what he had lost.Wanted him to see her in my space, wearing my clothes

~YVONNE'S POV~I woke up to the smell of something burning.It wasn't a big, scary fire smell, but a faint, odd smell that made you think someone who wasn't supposed to be cooking was trying to, and not doing a very good job.I sat up in Liam's bed....our bed, I was starting to think of it, which was probably dangerous but I was doing it anyway....and listened to the sounds coming from the kitchen.A muttered curse. The clatter of a pan. More cursing, slightly more creative this time.I smiled and grabbed his shirt from where it had landed on the floor last night, pulling it on as I padded barefoot down the hallway toward what sounded like a small culinary disaster in progress.Liam was standing at the stove with his back to me, shirtless in just pajama pants, his hair sticking up in about five different directions, and he was glaring at a frying pan like it had personally offended him."You're supposed to flip them before they burn," I said from the doorway.He jumped, actually jumpe