All Chapters of The Don's Wife, The Brother's Whore: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

“DAMIEN’S POV I was still staring at my phone. I hadn’t moved since the last vibration faded. My thumb rested limply at the edge of the screen. The photo filled it completely. It was a photo of Lucian and by his side was no other person but Isabella. Their contact and pose, too close to be misread. His hand sat at her waist as it belonged there. Familiar and casual. As for Lilith, her head was tilted back in laughter, throat exposed, body angled toward him. There was no tension in it. No caution just genuine comfort. It was the sight of Intimacy without disguise. I didn’t react at first. The anger didn’t explode at once, it gradually started to grow sharp This wasn’t what I expected. I had actually expected Isabella to circle me. To flirt, to provoke, to use Li

Lilith’s POV I kept my focus on Isabella. The question lay hanging in the space between us like a divider. It had come out of nowhere. Or maybe not nowhere. No. Maybe she had been watching me longer than I realized. I studied her face, trying to see if there was any hint of accusation in it. Or worse still… mocking. There was nothing like that. She only looked genuinely curious. After a few seconds, she shrugged lightly, as if to brush off the tension. “Well… you’ve been married for a while,” she said, lifting one shoulder. “Except if it’s medical or something.” I let out a breath of relief. I had been getting all worked up for nothing, I hadn’t even noticed I had been holding my breath. My fingers loosened around my cup. “No. It’s not medical,” I half

Lilith’s POV I resumed work at the boutique early that morning. It was earlier than my usual resumption time. New stock had arrived. Boxes were littered everywhere…stacked by the entrance…. half-open with tissue paper flying out like baby leaves. Instead of going straight to my office, I stayed on the floor. I rolled my sleeves and crouched beside one of the girls, helping her sort some dresses by size. I also adjusted mannequins myself, even carried lighter boxes without being asked. I didn’t hide behind the glass walls of my office like I used to. I realized that I actually liked being here. There was just something steady about it. Something that felt like mine. My phone started to beep not quite long after that I paused to wipe my hands lightly against my skirt before pulling it out.. I slipped an earbud into my

Third Person POV On getting to Sophie's apartment that afternoon, Lilith did not bother to knock properly. Her fist struck the door impatiently and before Sophie could reach it fully, Lilith had already pushed it open. After then Lilth went on to rush inside like she was escaping from a burning building outside. The apartment was warm from the heat of the lamp that was glowing in the corner just beside the biggest couch in the room. A cup of tea was sitting on the coffee table. Sophie was standing next to. The television as well was murmuring quietly in the background. “Babes?” Sophie finally found the voice to speak with her hands spread apart, “What happened?” Lilith did not answer. Instead, she walked past her quietly like someone moving underwater, strutting further and further until she reache

The debt was not dramatic. It never was, with men like Victor Sokolov. Drama was for people who needed witnesses. Victor had learned to carry his grief the way he carried everything else that mattered; quietly, completely, and with the patience of a man who understood that the right moment was always worth waiting for. Years ago, the arrangement with the Verona family had been one of his cleaner operations. Smuggling routes through the Adriatic, arms distribution across three territories, shared borders respected on both sides. Vittorio Verona was not a man Victor liked. But he was a man Victor could work with, which was rarer and more valuable than liking. Then came the night at the docks. An ambush targeting a rival crew. Efficient planning, clean execution, except for the calculation Vittorio either missed or dismissed. The explosion radius was wider than accounted for. Three of Victor's men died in the first wave. His son: a twenty-four years old, on his first real assignment,