My hands were raw. It was 2:00 AM, and I was sitting on the cold tile of the penthouse laundry room, scrubbing the last faint trace of espresso out of Kai’s white hoodie. Every time I rubbed the fabric, my mind flashed back to the locker room, the heavy press of his body, the heat of his shirtless chest, and the terrifyingly arrogant way he’d told me to hand-wash only. "Grown men acting like toddlers," I muttered, wringing out the heavy cotton. "I’m supposed to be taming them, not doing their dry cleaning." I didn't get to sleep until four. By seven, I was back in a tailored suit, standing in the formal dining room where breakfast was served. The atmosphere was suffocating. Usually, the brothers avoided each other like the plague, but today, all four of them were present. Lucien sat at the head, looking like an icy king reading the financial times. Damon was across from him, nursing a black coffee, his leather jacket replaced by a sharp black button-down that still couldn't hide
Last Updated : 2026-05-25 Read more