Brotherzoned: My Bestfriend’s Brother のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

Isla’s POVSienna’s face didn’t match the soft romantic glow of a newly married bride. It was thunderous.Sharp, vibrating, ready to split the walls of the hall open.She stood stiffly for exactly three seconds after the photographer dismissed us. Then she leaned to Vincenzo, whispered something I didn’t catch, and turned sharply toward me.Her eyes locked on mine. A signal: Come.Before I could process anything, her fingers wrapped around my wrist with familiar urgency, and she pulled—hard. With her other hand, she grabbed Zayne by the sleeve.“Move,” she hissed at him.Zayne blinked, clearly annoyed but following anyway. Rico cast me a worried look, but I mouthed, I’m fine. Even though I wasn’t sure I was.The three of us slipped out of the hall, past the murmuring guests and the humming lights, down a quieter corridor with polished marble floors and framed portraits. The moment Sienna found an empty side room, she pushed the door open and stormed in.“Inside,” she snapped.Zayne wa

Isla’s POVI stepped into the hallway, the soft glow of the chandeliers above catching the shimmer of Sienna’s dress as she walked behind me. Music swelled, a smooth, luxurious undertone that tried to mask the tension coiling in my chest. The sound of clinking cutlery and polite chatter floated past, but I barely noticed. My eyes scanned the edges of the room, my mind entirely fixed on one person—Zayne.Through the throng of guests, I spotted Sienna, graceful and radiant, moving back into the room as if nothing had happened. Her smile was tight, professional, but her eyes flicked toward me for a moment. A quiet signal, a reassurance. I nodded subtly and moved on, ignoring the music, the laughter, the lights.Rico and Teo were engaged in conversation near one of the buffet tables. I moved past them quickly, head down, searching. My pulse quickened as I calculated every possibility, every angle. The chaos of earlier—the sniper, the hitman, Silas, Isabella still lingered in my thoughts.

Isla’s POVBANG.The gun fired. Zayne jerked violently backward, the force spinning him half-around, his grip on me tearing away as he stumbled. Pain cracked across his face—real, sharp, uncontrolled.“ZAYNE!” I screamed again, sprinting toward him.His hand clutched his shoulder, blood seeping between his fingers, his dark shirt quickly became saturated with blood. He staggered, knees buckling—And I caught him before he hit the ground.“Stay with me,” I whispered, voice trembling.His breath left him in a sharp groan. “Fuck—Isla—get down—”But another burst of gunfire erupted, too close, too loud. We dove behind a walkway pillar just as bullets ripped through the vines overhead.My heart felt like it was breaking through my chest. Zayne’s body was heavy against mine, warm, trembling, and wounded.I pressed my hand over his. “It’s okay, it’s okay—just stay with me—”His eyes snapped to mine, wild with pain and something else. Fear. But not for himself.“For once,” he hissed through c

Isla’s POVThe hospital loomed ahead, its harsh lights slicing through my face. My chest heaved with each step as I ran, the keys to Rico’s car still clutched in one hand. I burst through the sliding doors of the emergency entrance, breath rattling in my chest. Nurses and orderlies rushed past me in a blur of white coats and sneakers. Monitors beeped urgently somewhere ahead. The scent of antiseptic was sharp, almost choking me, but I didn’t stop. Not for a second.“Where is he? Zayne—he was shot on his arm!” My voice cracked as I skidded toward the front desk.A young nurse replied to me. “Ma’am—please calm down—he’s in trauma. We can’t just—”“I don’t care about protocol!” I snapped, forcing my panic into every word. “Which room? Who’s taking care of him?”She swallowed, visibly intimidated by the raw panic in my tone. “He was taken to OR 3. Doctors said they were prepping him for surgery. It’s—uh—emergency level, but they’ve stabilized him for now.”I didn’t wait, I spun and raced

Isla’s POVTears pooled in my eyes before I could stop them. He was awake. Not just awake—looking at me.Zayne’s lips curved into that lazy, infuriating smirk he wore like armor, the one that always said he was in control even when the world was burning. It didn’t belong to a man lying in a hospital bed, pale, stitched, hooked up to machines that beeped too steadily for my comfort.“You look like you’re about to cry,” he murmured, voice rough, low. “That’s new.”I laughed weakly, the sound breaking apart halfway. “You were shot.”“And yet,” he said, eyes flicking lazily over my face, “still devastatingly handsome.”He didn’t lie, not even a bit. He was still every handsome.I swiped at my cheeks, furious at myself for letting the tears fall. “You’re unbearable.”“Mm. You missed me.”Before I could respond, the door slid open quietly. Rico stepped in.His gaze landed on Zayne first, sharp and assessing, then flicked to me. The tension he’d been carrying seemed to ease just a fraction.