All Chapters of SEDUCING MY ELDER BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Victoria stepped inside. ​She was no longer wearing the triumphant smile from the ballroom. Her face was pale, her expression tight with barely controlled fury. In one hand she held a silver master key. In the other was a thin leather folder containing several legal documents, topped by a sleek tablet. ​I shot to my feet, instinctively curling my fingers around the flash drive hidden behind my back. ​"If you think you can outsmart me, then you are a joker," Victoria said softly as she closed the door behind her. "Did you really think lying would stop me?" ​My pulse hammered. "You shouldn't be here." ​"And yet I am. Now hand me the drive." ​Her eyes drifted around the room before finally settling on my clenched hand. ​The silence between us felt dangerous. She took a predatory step forward, ripping the folder open to reveal a biometric compliance terminal on the tablet screen. ​"You're going to press your thumb right here, Jane," she hissed, grabbing my wrist with surprising str

The morning sun flashed brightly into my room. By Monday, the iron gates of the Williams estate had become the epicenter of a media feeding chain. Even with my curtains drawn, the high-intensity strobe of paparazzi lenses reflecting off the white stone facade felt inescapable. I stood by the edge of the window, peeking through a mere fabric. Below, a dozen white media vans blocked the driveway. Reporters stood in the humid morning air, mic flags bearing global business logos clutched in their hands as they waited for a glimpse of Benjamin’s luxury sports car. They wanted a love story. They wanted the glamorous tale of a multi-billionaire CEO securing his global asset future by marrying high society's favorite daughter. "Enjoying the view?"I didn't need to turn around to recognize the venomous voice. Victoria stepped fully into my bedroom, a sleek tablet tucked under her arm. She was dressed in an immaculate, cream-colored Dior dress, her blonde hair coiled into a flawless ch

Jane's POV The morning sun arrived like an executioner. By 8:00 AM, the grand ballroom of the Williams estate was a chaotic symphony of high-society vanity. Catering crews in black waistcoats scurried across the polished marble, while prominent gossip columnists and business reporters from national networks adjusted their camera lenses under the dimmed crystal chandeliers. "Stand still," Victoria hissed, her voice a sharp blade against my ear. She stood behind me in my bedroom wing, her manicured fingers aggressively pulling the zipper of a plain, restrictive taupe silk dress up my spine. It was a secondary outfit from her own wardrobe—dull, completely devoid of shape, and intentionally chosen to make me blend into the background like a household servant. "You aren't hiding in this wing today, sweetie," Victoria whispered, a cruel smile stretching across her red lips as she stepped back to admire her work. "My father’s PR team just opened the iron gates for the pre-gala press

Jane's POV The older investor’s sweaty fingers dug deeper into my hip beneath the chair, his greasy chuckle vibrating right against my ear. From the head of the table, Benjamin’s eyes snapped directly to the investor's shoulder. He didn't see the hand beneath my dress, but he saw the man leaning into my personal space. He saw the sudden panic that locked my spine. The thin wall of his corporate control shattered entirely. CRACK. The sound was like a gunshot echoing through the formal dining room. Benjamin crushed his Baccarat crystal wine glass onto the mahogany wood. The delicate stem snapped into bloody shards, the dark Cabernet spilling across the heavy white damask silk like an exploding artery. Victoria shrieked, instantly throwing herself backward as the dark liquid splattered against the sleeve of her cream Dior dress. "Benjamin! Are you losing your mind?!" Vance Senior froze, his steak knife hovering millimeters above his plate, his sharp eyes widening in shock

Jane's POV The vertical rack of server towers continued to hum, its steady, freezing vibrations drilling through the soles of my bare feet. The screen in front of me cast an icy blue glow across the narrow steel vault, illuminating my name in stark, capitalized letters. JANE. My fingers hovered over the mechanical keyboard overlay, trembling so violently that my knuckles cracked in the dead silence. Every protective instinct inside me screamed to shut the administrative portal, step out of the cedar bookcase panel, and pretend I had never seen it. But the text of the directory was a magnet, pulling my hands forward until I struck the master execute key. The folder expanded. A massive cascade of high-definition digital sub-directories flooded the monitor, sorted completely by chronological timestamps stretching back over two full years. My breath trapped itself completely in my chest as I clicked the first root directory. Dozens of high-resolution surveillance photographs