All Chapters of My Sister's Fiance: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

I stopped.The entire closet seemed to shrink by one size.Outside, the children’s voices were still alive, wet, sweet, unaware of everything.I turned slowly.Zach was standing very close. His face was calm, but his eyes weren’t. They held the same look they had when he watched Max draw an atom, when he carried Issa after her tantrum, when he heard them say their father was out making lots of money.“I want to introduce myself as their father,” he said.I stared at him long enough for my own face to start feeling unfamiliar. “Now?”“Not this exact second.” He glanced toward the window. “They’re arranging Marco’s death.”“Priorities.”“But soon.” His gaze returned to my face. “With your permission.”I let out a quiet, very short laugh. “Look at you. Learning the word permission. America really changes a man.”“Don’t get too excited. I’m still difficult to control.”“Understatement of the century.”He waited.Damn it.He was actually waiting.I touched the edge of Issa’s dress, smoothi

Issa lunged, and her hand went straight for Max’s black hair.I caught her around the waist and lifted her little body off the floor before her fingers could get there. Her weight dropped into my arms, warm, wet, and full of royal fury.“No,” I said.“PUT ME DOWN!”“No.”“I just want to talk!”“You talk with your nails.”“He put a WORM on my body!”“In your coat.”“That’s my fashion body!”Max backed away, then stuck out his tongue. “Nyeh.”I looked at him.He pulled his tongue back in, but too late. His blue eyes immediately shifted toward Zach, calculating the escape distance.“Don’t,” Zach said calmly.Max turned and ran. His little boots pounded against the hallway carpet, leaving behind muddy tracks that were extremely artistic and extremely expensive.“I’m faster!” he yelled.He made it three steps before Zach moved.One hand caught the back of Max’s coat, stopping him mid-run. His little legs kept moving twice in the air before Zach lifted him completely off the floor and tucke

The kids ate more dinner than seemed reasonable for two tiny humans who, three hours earlier, had been trying to attack each other.Dinner was in the family wing dining room, not the estate’s main dining room, which was far too large and far too serious for four-year-olds. Bianna sat at the end of the table texting someone, occasionally looking up only to say, “Max, don’t use carrots as construction tools,” or, “Issa, if you call asparagus emotionally unavailable one more time, I’m recording it for future evidence.”Zach sat between the twins because apparently the man had surrendered to fate. Max finished his chicken, half his mashed potatoes, two pieces of bread, and tried to claim extra dessert because, according to him, “the worm incident drained my minerals.”Issa ate with the expression of wounded dignity, still wearing a little lavender robe over her new satin pajamas, and every time Max talked too loudly, she looked at him like she was considering replacing her twin with a cat

Morning arrived without dignity.No one moved rooms all night.Not Max. Not Issa. Not Zach. Not me.We all woke up in Issa’s lavender bed like survivors of a family accident involving entirely too much money. The white canopy moved gently in the air-conditioning, Max’s dragon puzzle was still scattered at the foot of the bed, one storybook lay open on the floor, and Zach slept flat on his back with one child on each side like a statue of an Italian man who had just been defeated by two chubby four-year-olds.Issa woke up first because drama had its own internal alarm clock.She opened her eyes, saw Max still pressed against Zach’s side, then looked at her own hand gripping the hem of Zach’s shirt.Her face slowly shifted into offense. “Max,” she whispered.Max slept with his mouth slightly open and one cheek flattened against Zach’s arm.“Maxime,” Issa repeated, colder this time.Max made a growling sound.Issa took a long breath. I watched from my side of the bed and knew exactly one

Blackpine’s garage didn’t deserve to be called a garage. It was a private showroom with polished floors, hidden lighting, and a line of cars that all looked like they had strong opinions about the middle class. In the middle of it, a black SUV was already waiting with the rear door open. It wasn’t the flashiest car there, but it was definitely the kind of vehicle that made people immediately assume there was either a president, an elegant criminal, or a family requiring entirely too much security inside.Maybe all three.Two security vehicles were positioned in front and behind. One of Zach’s men, dressed in a dark suit with an earpiece, nodded as we came out. I still didn’t know all their names. On purpose. If I started memorizing them, that meant this was starting to feel permanent. I wasn’t ready to give permanence a first name.Zach helped Max climb in first.“I can do it myself,” Max said.Zach still placed one hand on his small back, not taking over, just keeping him steady. “I