Lahat ng Kabanata ng CLAIM THE CORE: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 7

The city thrummed, a glittering tapestry of steel and light stretching into the inky expanse of night. Its pulse beat loudest in the high-rises, where fortunes shifted and lives intertwined. Tonight, the celebrated penthouse suite of the Grand Olympia Hotel shimmered with an extra layer of opulence, hosting the joint thirtieth birthday bash for the notorious Thorne triplets. Damon, the CEO whose empire spanned continents; Elias, the artist whose controversial pieces commanded astronomical sums; and Kael, the athletic titan who dominated the global sports arena. Three brothers, each a formidable force, their combined presence in any room a gravitational pull. Their frames, uniformly six feet four inches of sculpted muscle, moved through the throng with an effortless grace that belied their raw power. Dark suits hugged their broad shoulders, emphasizing the lean definition of their waists, the thick columns of their necks. Their faces, carved from a classical mold, held a dangerous

The glass doors of Thorne Industries shimmered, reflecting the relentless morning sun. Luke pushed through them, a gust of cool, conditioned air washing over him, a stark contrast to the humid city outside. The lobby stretched before him, a cathedral of polished marble and gleaming chrome, hushed and impossibly vast. A sleek, blonde receptionist, her smile perfectly sculpted, gestured towards a bank of elevators.“Level thirty-two, marketing department,” her voice, smooth as silk, barely registered.He nodded, a tight knot in his stomach. The elevator ascended, a swift, silent whisper. Each floor clicked past, the numbers on the panel a countdown to a confrontation he was both dreading and determined to face. He stepped out onto the thirty-second floor, a labyrinth of open-plan offices and glass-walled meeting rooms. The air hummed with a low thrum of activity, the clatter of keyboards, the hushed murmur of voices. A woman, her dark hair pulled back in a severe bun, approached him

The plush carpet of the executive suite muffled Luke’s footsteps, each one a hesitant whisper against the opulent silence. The air, thick with the scent of polished wood and an underlying, almost imperceptible ozone tang from unseen electronics, pressed down on him. His hand, clammy, smoothed the fabric of his new, crisp shirt. This was it. The lion’s den.A stern voice, precise and devoid of warmth, sliced through the quiet. “You're late.”Luke flinched, his head snapping up. Damon Thorne stood by the expansive window, his back to the room, a silhouette against the glittering cityscape. The morning sun, a sharp blade, outlined his formidable frame. Even from a distance, the sheer size of him, the breadth of his shoulders, sent a shiver down Luke’s spine. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.“Only by a minute, Mr. Thorne. Traffic was… unexpected.” Luke’s voice, usually soft, cracked slightly. He hated how it betrayed his nervousness.Damon turned, his gaze, sharp as obsidian, i

The morning sun didn't just come up; it blasted through the penthouse windows, throwing gold all over the mess from last night.Damon woke up first. His brain, usually all business, was quiet for once. He didn't grab his phone or check the market. He just noticed Luke sleeping between him and his brothers. Luke was out cold, like only total tiredness could bring – breathing slow and steady, lips just a bit open.Elias and Kael were already awake, but still. They were like statues guarding their treasure. Elias was on his elbow, checking out the faint marks on Luke's neck like he was planning a painting. Kael had his hand on Luke's back, his thumb tracing his spine in a way that said, He's mine.He looks chill when he's not fighting it, Kael said, his voice low.He shouldn't be fighting it, Damon said, still sleepy. He brushed hair from Luke's face. He's made for this. For us.Without a word, they got out of bed, moving like they knew each other inside and out. They threw on robes and