Todos los capítulos de Fake Amnesia, Claimed by My Ex’s Brother: Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

Kaela’s POVRhett’s mouth crushed down on mine. His lips were hot and hard. His breath was harsh against my skin. I could not move my arms. I could not shift. The aconite burned in every cut on my wrists and ankles. The witch’s drug moved through my blood like poison.Heat rolled over me in heavy waves, pressing against my mind, trying to drown my thoughts and push me into blind need. My heart sped up. My body reacted in ways I did not want.Tears slid down the sides of my face. I clenched my jaw and bit down on my tongue, hard.Sharp pain burst in my mouth. The taste of blood filled it. The pain cut through the haze for a moment, like a small window of cold air.I grabbed that small window.Taren, I called inside my mind, clinging to the weak mental link between us. Please. Find me. I am here. I need you.The link flickered, faint and unstable. The aconite still blocked most of my power. But I did not stop trying.Rhett tasted the blood and pulled back just far enough to look at me.

Taren’s POVBy the time we reached the apartment, Kaela was barely conscious.Her head rested against my chest, her skin hot even through my shirt. I carried her straight to the couch and eased her down, trying not to show how much my hands were shaking.Her eyes fluttered open. They were unfocused, glassy with fever.“It’s okay,” I said, more for myself than for her. “You’re strong. You’re safe.”She didn’t answer, just breathed in short, uneven bursts.I put my palm against her forehead. “You’re burning up,” I muttered, the calm in my voice cracking for the first time. I grabbed my phone and called my private physician, forcing my tone to steady as I gave quick directions, then rushed into the bathroom.Cold water. Clean towel.I soaked the towel, wrung it out, and came back to her. Her body was trembling, her lips pale. I laid the towel across her forehead.She let out a small sound, filled with half relief and half pain. Her teeth chattered. Her shoulders shook.I grabbed a thick

Kaela’s POVThe supplier’s car finally pulled away from the curb, and his workers followed in silence. The people who had come just to watch trouble started leaving too. Only a few reporters still hung around the gate, cameras raised, waiting for more drama. My anger had cooled, but I was still on edge. I turned to face the cameras directly.“I’ll say this once,” I said. “Any media outlet that publishes lies about me or my studio will receive a defamation lawsuit. I have full quality reports and contracts. If you twist facts, I will take legal action.”They looked at each other. No one shouted a question. One by one, cameras lowered. A few mumbled to themselves and walked toward their vans. Within minutes, the sidewalk was mostly clear. The noise dropped, and the front of Werewolf Aviation finally felt like it belonged to us again.I looked back at Sophie. “Collect every document related to termination notices and legal documents. Put them in order and back them up.”She nodded. “I’

Kaela’s POVThe auction ended with polite applause and tired smiles. People stood, adjusted their clothes, and moved toward the exits in slow waves. Taren stayed close to me, one hand at my back, guiding me through the crowd without pushing. I could feel his focus on me, like he was checking my face every few seconds.I thought we would leave without trouble.Then Eleanor stepped into our path.She didn’t raise her voice, but she didn’t need to. A few nearby guests slowed down to listen, pretending they were only looking for their coats. Eleanor’s eyes moved over me like she was judging something she already disliked.“So this is what you’ve become,” she said. “You buy attention with money you didn’t earn, and you hold onto my son like a badge.”Taren’s arm tightened around my waist, but he did not speak. He watched Eleanor with a calm that felt dangerous.Eleanor continued, her mouth sharp. “You were born low. You will stay low. Don’t lie to yourself and think you can change that by

Kaela’s POVRhett did not stop.By the time I reached the studio each morning, roses were already there. Not one bouquet. A pile stacked by the door, as if the building itself had been claimed. Security moved them before clients arrived. Rhett replaced them before lunch.Gifts followed. Expensive boxes left at reception. Bags delivered to my office with cards that called me his “future Luna.” He also waited outside. Not hiding. Not ashamed. He stood near the entrance like a guard and spoke my name every time I passed, like he could pull me back with sound alone.“Kaela,” he said one morning, holding roses out. His eyes looked tired, but his posture was stubborn. “I’m trying to fix this.”I walked past him without slowing.He raised his voice so people would hear. “You’re my future Luna. I’m not giving up.”I didn’t answer. I didn’t look at him. I kept moving because any response would turn into a show, and he loved a show.In my office, the newest gift sat on my desk. A Hermès bag.