บททั้งหมดของ My Bestfriend’s Brother : บทที่ 111 - บทที่ 120

Isla’s POV I didn’t conclude anything, not yet.Suspicion was easy. Fear made it tempting. But accusations—especially against someone like Zayne—required proof. I’d learned that the hard way. Jumping to conclusions had a way of detonating everything before the truth even had a chance to surface.So imagine I end up accusing him and I find out it was Silas all long?So instead of spiraling, I chose something harder. I chose peace for now.I stepped into the closet and pulled one of Zayne’s shirts from the drawer he’d pointed out earlier. It smelled like him—clean, faintly spicy, something warmer underneath. I slipped it over my head, the fabric grazing my thighs, grounding me just enough to steady my thoughts.If my phone was compromised, then someone had been careful. Which meant I needed to be the same.“Isla,” Zayne called from the kitchen. “Food’s getting cold.”“I’m coming,” I replied, forcing my voice to sound normal.I left the phone on the bed. That alone felt like a small reb

Isla’s POV I’m still standing outside when the black car pulls into the driveway. For a second, my brain doesn’t register who’s inside—just the headlight reflecting through the dusk, the crunch of gravel, the slow inevitability of arrival. Then the doors open.Aurora steps out first, composed as ever, her posture immaculate like chaos doesn’t dare touch her. Ronan follows, already scanning the scene with sharp, calculating eyes. Marco comes last, phone still in his hand, jaw tight, expression unreadable. They look like they were interrupted mid-life. Dinner or a meeting. Something normal.My chest tightens. Because nothing that happened here forty five minutes ago was normal. Before they arrived, Silas had been staring at me. Not casually or absentmindedly. Staring.The kind that crawls under your skin and settles there, heavy and annoying, like he’s memorizing me again. Like he’s reminding himself I exist. Every time I shift my weight, every time I fold my arms tighter around mysel

Zayne’s POV The moment I sit behind Isla, she exhales.It’s quiet, barely audible, but I feel it anyway—like her body recognizes mine before her mind catches up. Relief loosening her shoulders. Tension bleeding out of her spine. She doesn’t turn around, doesn’t reach for me, but the space between us closes all the same.I lean back in the chair, close enough that my knee brushes the back of hers.Vincenzo and Sienna follow after me, taking the seats behind. The room is already full, already charged, but their presence tips it into something heavier. Power. History. Too many unspoken things crowding the air.I watch Isla’s eyes flick toward Sienna. Just a glance. Sienna meets it instantly. There’s an entire conversation in that look—worry, relief, guilt, questions neither of them are brave enough to ask out loud yet. Sienna’s fingers twist together in her lap. Isla’s jaw tightens, then relaxes.My chest tightens.The last time my father questioned Isla—his tone sharp, his assumptions

Isla’s POV What?The word doesn’t leave my mouth, but it ricochets violently inside my skull, slamming against every thought I have until it becomes deafening.My gaze darts between Silas and Sienna, waiting for someone—anyone—to laugh and say it’s a joke. That this is another one of Silas’s twisted games. Another manipulation tactic designed to destabilize me.But neither of them laughs. Silas looks far too pleased with himself. And Sienna… Sienna looks like someone just cracked the ground beneath her feet.“Your brother,” Silas repeats lazily, dabbing the corner of his split lip with his thumb. A smear of red streaks across his knuckle, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Front row. Standing beside me. Adjusted my tie before I walked down the aisle. Hell, he even gave a speech.”My stomach drops so fast I swear I feel it hit the floor. Zayne. Silas’s best man? My chest tightens as memories crash into me all at once.The wedding. The endless hours my team spent taking pictures, scanni

“I didn’t think you were fragile,” he says softly.“Then what did you think?” I demand, tears burning my vision.He hesitates. That tiny pause feels like a knife sliding between my ribs.“I thought you’d blame yourself.”The words knock the air out of me. I blink at him, stunned. “What?”“I thought you’d carry it,” he continues, voice still calm but heavier now. “You carry everything. Other people’s pain. Other people’s mistakes. I’ve watched you do it since the day I met you.”My grip loosens slightly.“I didn’t want to give you something else to bleed for.”My chest tightens so violently it hurts.“That wasn’t your decision to make,” I whisper.“I know.”The immediate acceptance catches me off guard.My brows knit together. “You… what?”“I know,” he repeats, steadier. “I was wrong for choosing the timing without you. I was wrong for thinking I could manage the fallout alone.”My throat tightens around the next question, but it forces its way out anyway.“The alley,” I whisper. “That