All Chapters of My Brother's Bestfriend turns me on : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The panic wing did not stay safe for long. Another explosion rocked the outer structure. Smoke began to seep under the reinforced doors. The air grew hotter. Reports came in broken bursts over the secure radios. The east wing is compromised, the main hall is burning, Valenti men pushing deeper with incendiaries. The mansion was no longer just under siege. Parts of it were on fire. Dante ordered a full evacuation of the core family through the secondary routes. Marco and Enzo moved to secure Father and Bianca. In the confusion of shouted orders and moving bodies, I slipped away from the group. I could not leave Killian bleeding in a corridor while the house burned around him. I found him near the service junction where I had last seen him. He was on one knee with his left arm hanging useless and right hand still gripping the gun. Blood had soaked through his shirt and down his side. The shoulder wound was worse than he had let me see. He looked up when I dropped beside him. “I told

I moved him before first light. Killian was too heavy to carry and too weak to walk far on his own. I got his good arm over my shoulders and took most of his weight, half dragging, half supporting him through the trees. Every few dozen yards I had to stop so he could breathe and so I could check that the bandage still held. His skin stayed cold. His eyes opened in short, unfocused intervals. He knew me. That was enough to keep going. The north ridge safe house sat in a dense stand of pine, low and windowless from the outside, built into the slope like it had grown there. I recognized the secondary markers Killian had once mentioned in passing during a security brief years ago. Small, deliberate cuts on certain trunks, a rock pile that looked natural until you knew what to look for. The outer keypad was hidden under a false panel of bark. I entered the emergency family code with shaking fingers. The lock released. Inside was clean, stocked, and cold. Emergency lighting flicked on at

We left the safe house just before dawn. Killian moved slower than usual, his left arm was in a makeshift sling, but he stayed on his feet. I drove the old service vehicle that had been stored under a tarp behind the ridge house. The roads stayed empty. No tails. No drones. Dante had kept his word so far. The clinic sat on the edge of a quiet town two hours north. It's private, discreet, used by families who paid for silence. A single guard in plain clothes waited at the entrance. He recognized me, nodded once, and led us inside without questions. Dante was already there. Marco stood near the wall. Enzo didn’t come. No Father. No extra men visible. The terms had been respected. Dante’s eyes moved over Killian’s sling and the healing bruises, then settled on me. “You’re both alive. That is something. The doctor is ready.” I didn’t answer. I simply walked into the examination room with Killian at my side. The doctor was a woman this time. Neutral, professional, and no history with ou

Killian was given a room on the same floor as mine. Close enough for appearance, monitored enough to remind him he was not free. Guards changed at regular intervals in the hallway. His movement was limited to the main house and the inner courtyard. The sling stayed on his arm for a while. The immunity was still there, but it felt conditional with every set of eyes that followed us. I spent the first day after the return in the medical wing for a full check. The doctor confirmed what the clinic had already told us. Early pregnancy. Healthy markers so far. Strong advice to avoid stress, which would have been funny if it were not so impossible. When I walked back toward the residential wing, Bianca was waiting in the corridor. “Married within the month,” she said, falling into step beside me. “How efficient. The family gets its legitimate heir, the guard gets a temporary shield, and you get to pretend this was always the plan. Do you actually believe they’ll let him keep any real power

On the afternoon of the sixteenth day, a small breach attempt hit the eastern service gate. Not a full assault. A probe. Two men in delivery uniforms tried to pass a false work order. The gate team stopped them. One reached for a weapon. The exchange was short. When the bodies were searched, both carried the same Valenti linked mark that had appeared in the earlier surveillance. Dante delivered the report in the study with the doors closed. Father listened without visible reaction. Killian stood near the window, with his arms folded. “They’re testing response times,” Killian said. “Measuring how fast we move, how many men we commit to a secondary gate, how long the main house takes to lock down. The real strike will come closer to the ceremony, when attention is split.” Father nodded once. “Then we do not split attention. The wedding remains on schedule. Security increases. No further adjustments to the guest list. No external staff. If Lorenzo wants an opportunity to strike, he wi