บททั้งหมดของ Craved By My Fiance's Brother: บทที่ 101 - บทที่ 110

She doesn't argue with me. She just leans forward a little, her voice dropping to a calm, quiet tone. “What reality is that?”I let out a long, slow breath, rubbing my palms together until they burn. “The reality that there are some things people just shouldn't know about you. Period.”“Why?”“Because once they know...” I let out a dry, bitter laugh that scratches my throat. “They can't unlearn or unsee it. They look at you totally differently from that moment on.”My throat feels tight, like I'm swallowing glass.“They look at you like you're broken.”Evelyn just watches me for a long beat, taking me in. “Has that happened to you before?”I keep my mouth shut. I don't answer her, but then again, I don't really need to. She already knows the answer. Of course she does. She’s been sitting right across from me for every single ugly session since I finally forced myself to start talking. She knows about every nightmare, every sudden panic attack, and every single memory I spent years pr

I rub my hand over my forehead, trying to force some actual focus into my brain. “Come on, Meeka. Just do your job. Read the stupid report, check the fabric designs sent , think about the wedding, think about literally anything else.I manage to keep my eyes on the screen for maybe thirty seconds tops, before my mind just completely drifts away again. And it doesn't go to flower arrangements, or the seating chart, or even the rehearsal dinner. It doesn't even go to Nathaniel. Instead, it goes straight back to the one place I’ve been desperately trying to avoid for the past one week.Slade.My fingers freeze right over the keyboard. For a complete one week, the guy wouldn't leave me alone. He was calling me non-stop. Morning, afternoon, late at night when I was trying to sleep. My phone was constantly lighting up with voicemails, texts, paragraphs of explanations, literally anything he could think of just to beg me to meet up with him.And then, now there's nothing. Just sudden, total

The question follows me like a shadow all the way to the parking garage and into my car. And no matter how many different ways I turn it over and pick it apart in my head, I can't find a single answer that doesn't completely hurt.The drive back feels twice as long as it usually does. By the time I finally pull into my parents' driveway, the dull headache that started right around lunch has settled firmly behind my eyes, throbbing perfectly in time with my pulse.I kill the engine and just sit there in the driver's seat for a minute, both hands still resting flat on the steering wheel. I don't move. I don't even have the energy to open the door at this moment.But the front door of the house swings open before I can even gather enough motivation to unbuckle my seatbelt.“There's the soon-to-be-Mrs-DeWitt!” my mother calls out from the porch, waving me over with the kind of high-energy excitement only she seems capable of maintaining twenty-four hours a day.I close my eyes for a quick

By the time my car finally rolls through the heavy iron gates of the DeWitt estate the following evening, the last bit of daylight is completely gone, leaving the sky pitch black.The driver brings the car to a smooth stop right beneath the grand front portico. I barely have time to reach for the door handle before the butler is already pulling it open from the outside. “Good evening, Miss Clemson,” he says, stepping back smoothly.“Good evening,” I reply.I step out into the cool evening air and immediately smooth down the fabric of my dress—honestly, more out of sheer habit than actual nerves. Or maybe a little bit of both.The butler softly shuts the car door behind me, every move practiced and polite. “They're waiting for you in the family dining room, Miss.”“Thank you.” I give him a quick, polite smile.The second I walk through the front door, the sheer quiet of the mansion hits me. It’s almost creepy how silent it is in here tonight, definitely not what I was expecting from a

SLADE'S POV::The second I step through the heavy wooden doors and into the dining room, my heart slams into my ribs. Because there on the dining table, is no other person than her.God, she's actually here.For one completely reckless, traitorous second, every piece of self-control I’ve managed to piece together over the last few days just crumbles to ash. Every single instinct in my body screams at me to ignore the promises I made to myself, walk straight across the slippery floor, pull her out of that chair, and make her listen to me.I want to drag her somewhere quiet and lay it all out on the line. I want to tell her every single damning truth. I want to tell her that Nathaniel is a lying bastard who manipulated almost every piece of information she thinks she knows about me. I want to tell her that she got it all wrong. All of it. And more than anything, I want to tell her that I haven’t slept a full hour since the night she walked out of my apartment, tears streaming down her