All Chapters of Bound to My Sister's Billionaire Crush: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

- SIERRA"I’m telling you, the font weight on the packaging needs to be a point size smaller or the text is going to bleed straight into the seam," I said, kicking the bottom of my apartment building’s heavy front door open with the side of my sneaker.My arms were entirely full. I was balancing a cardboard tray with two large decaf iced teas in one hand and a ridiculous stack of updated Aurora fabric swatches in the other. Maya was walking right behind me, her nose buried in her tablet, her thumb flicking through printing proofs at a speed that honestly should've caused an accident on the stairs."If we make it one point smaller, the legal warning on the back will be almost unreadable, Sierra," Maya muttered, not even looking up as we cleared the second-floor landing. "The corporate sharks in New York will have a stroke if they think we're hiding the chemical disclosure.""They can have whatever medical emergency they want as long as the box looks pretty," I grunted, stopping in fron

- SIERRADesmond didn't say anything for a long time. He just kept his hand right there on my ankle, his head dropping down until his forehead was nearly resting against his own knees. His whole frame gave this tiny, shuddering heave."Ten years," he choked out, the words muffled against his clothes. "I spent ten years chasing that family's board seats. Pushing you out of the New York offices because I thought I had a debt to pay to the people who kept me alive. Every single year... wasted on a lie.""Hey," I said softly, reaching down and letting my fingers trail through the messy top of his thick hair. "We were kids. Everyone’s dumb at eighteen.""I wasn't just dumb, Sierra," he said, looking up, his eyes caught the faint green light from outside the window, revealing a vulnerability I'd never seen before. "I was blind. I had the only person who actually gave a damn about me right in front of my face, and I let my father turn me into a corporate robot.""You aren't a robot anymore,"

- SIERRAThe next ten minutes slipped past in a blur of icy Boston sleet and the sharp, screeching tires.Desmond drove through the narrow, slush-covered streets of South Boston as fast as the conditions allowed, refusing to slow down. The heavy black Jeep fish-tailed sharply as we cleared the corner near the bakery, the engine roaring through the alleyways while he slammed his palm against the horn at every single delivery truck in our path."Desmond, that was a red light!" I yelled, clutching the door handle with one hand and his knee with the other as another dull, dragging wave of pressure started to build in my lower back."I don't give a shit!" he barked back. His fingers dug into the leather of the steering wheel. His jaw was set so hard I could see the muscle throbbing under the dark stubble of his cheek. His eyes never left the road, ignoring both the speedometer and the mirrors. His eyes were locked on the distant blue emergency sign of St. Elizabeth’s Hospital. His breathi

- SIERRA"Push? What do you mean keep pushing, Brenda? I’ve been trying to force a human being out of my spine for the last fourteen hours," I gasped, my fingers digging so hard into the rubber grip of the hospital bed rail that I thought my nails were going to snap right off.The delivery room at St. Elizabeth’s was a complete mess of discarded plastic wrap, paper towels, and the faint scent of sterile saline. The clock on the wall read 3:12 a.m., the grey Boston night completely frozen outside the high windows."You're doing great, Sierra. Just one more heavy lift," the nurse said, her voice entirely too calm for someone whose shirt was currently covered in my sweat. "Sir, keep her chin down. Don't let her tilt back."Desmond looked like a man who had been dragged through a car wash backward. He was sitting on the tiny edge of the mattress, his black leather jacket long gone, his grey shirt completely soaked at the collar where I’d been hiding my face during the last three waves. Hi

- DESMONDSierra was sitting in the rolling wheelchair right inside the glass, her hair tied up in a messy, chaotic bun that looked like a bird’s nest. She was wearing a giant, faded blue hospital gown and a pair of my gray wool socks that came all the way up to her knees. She looked exhausted. Her skin was pale with dark circles under her eyes, but her sharp, stubborn glint in her stare showed that she’d been listening to the whole thing through the crack in the door.In her arms, wrapped in a tight, green-and-white striped hospital blanket, was Adrian. He was completely out cold, his tiny pink nose pressed right against the crook of her elbow, his small fist twitching every time the ice machine clicked."You're supposed to be in bed," I muttered, my voice instantly losing that hard, aggressive New York edge as I pushed the door open and stepped inside the recovery zone. I dropped to one knee right next to the wheel of her chair, my hands automatically reaching out to hover near the