Filthy Cravings: Your BROTHER Is Mine のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

52. GenovaI stood alone in the kitchen long after Tiana’s footsteps faded upstairs. The dim light from the single lamp threw soft shadows across the countertops. My hands rested on the cool marble, fingers still slightly sticky from the earlier release. The scent of the other woman’s perfume clung to my skin despite the quick rinse I had taken after she left. Tiana had noticed. Of course she had. Her senses had always been sharp when it came to me.I poured the remaining tea down the sink and rinsed the cups slowly, buying myself time to think. The plan was still intact. She had sat with me. She had accepted the tea. She had not pulled away when my hand brushed her arm. Small victories. But the perfume comment sat like a stone in my gut. One careless moment and everything could unravel.I climbed the stairs quietly, pausing outside her closed door. No light spilled from underneath. She was probably already back in bed, or at least pretending to be. I continued to the master bedroom,

54. TianaThe gates of Roman’s villa swung open with a soft mechanical hum. I sat rigid in the passenger seat, arms crossed tightly over my chest, staring straight ahead through the windshield. The long driveway curved between tall trees and manicured hedges, leading up to the modern stone-and-glass house that always felt too quiet, too perfect. Roman parked near the front entrance and killed the engine. The sudden silence pressed against my ears.He reached for the door handle. I did not move.“Tiana,” he said quietly.I ignored him, unbuckled my seatbelt with sharp, jerky motions, and stepped out of the car. The late-morning air was warm, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the gardens. My overnight bag hung heavy from my shoulder. Roman retrieved the larger suitcase from the trunk without a word. We walked up the steps side by side, the space between us charged and brittle.Inside, the villa was cool and still. High ceilings. Pale floors. Large windows that let in soft light.

56. TianaThe villa was quiet except for the sound of our breathing.I lay half on top of Roman on the wide living-room sofa, skin still damp with sweat, the slow throb between my legs a reminder of how hard I had just come around him. His cock had softened inside me but he had not pulled out yet. One of his hands rested heavily on the small of my back; the other stroked lazy circles over my bare ass. The anger that had burned so hot only minutes earlier had not disappeared. It sat lower now, quieter, mixed with a reluctant softness I did not fully trust.I kept my face turned into the side of his neck so I would not have to look at him.“You’re still mad,” he said. His voice was low, rough from the sex.“Yes.”“Good.” His fingers trailed higher, tracing the line of my spine. “Stay mad. Just don’t run. Stay with me.”I pushed myself up enough to look at him. His dark eyes were steady, almost calm, but there was still a hard edge underneath. The same edge that had made him walk into Ge

58. RomanI woke before her.Tiana lay on her side facing away from me, the sheet twisted low around her hips. Morning light filtered through the wide bedroom windows and painted soft gold across her bare back. I watched the slow rise and fall of her breathing for a long time. My hand rested on the curve of her waist, thumb moving in small, unconscious strokes over her skin. The possessiveness that had lived under my ribs for years sat heavier this morning. She was here, in my bed, in my house, smelling of my soap and the sex we had shared the night before. Part of me still could not believe it.Guilt sat beside the possessiveness. I had forced the confrontation with Genova without giving her the chance to prepare. I had watched the shock and anger flash across her face when I revealed the footage and claimed her openly. She had every right to be furious. I was not sorry for ending the lies, but the way I had done it still scraped at me. I had taken the choice out of her hands because

60. TianaA few days had settled into something that almost felt like a rhythm.Mornings began with Roman already awake, coffee waiting, the villa quiet around us. We ate together. Sometimes we talked; sometimes the silence was comfortable enough that words were unnecessary. He left for the company mid-morning. I stayed behind. I would be reading, walking the gardens or answering only the messages I chose to answer. Life was easy and I was happy for the first time in a long time.In the evenings he came home, and the night belonged to us. The anger from the first day had not vanished completely, but it had softened into something I could carry without it burning everything down.I had started to believe the quiet could last. I hoped it would for my sake. I hoped that i wouldn't have to go back to the hell i called homeThat morning I decided to surprise him. Love was all about effort, isn't it,I made lunch myself. It was simple things he liked, packed carefully in a small cooler bag,