All Chapters of My Brother's Bestfriend turns me on : Chapter 71 - Chapter 79

Two days later in the study. Dante placed a short report on the desk summarizing the additional houses Bianca had contacted beyond the original list. Father did not raise his voice. He rarely needed to. The message in each conversation had stayed straight to the point. The selection of those conversations had not been authorized. Bianca stood across from the desk with her hands folded. She did not look defensive. She looked prepared. “The original list was incomplete,” she said. “The houses I reached out to were already hearing the wrong versions from other directions. If I had waited for an updated list, the damage would have been to bad. I closed the gaps that were open. That was my work.” “Your work was defined by a defined boundary,” Father said. “You stepped outside it.” “I stepped where the fire was.” Bianca’s voice remained even. “You can punish me for reaching out or you can use the results. You cannot easily do both while Lorenzo is still feeding the wrong story to people

The doctor had been clear at my morning check up. Long car movements were still possible but increasingly unwise. Any trip that involved uncertain roads, irregular rest, or the chance of delayed return was off the table until after the child's birth. The child was healthy. And my blood pressure was acceptable at the moment, although it has been fluctuating a bit. I could not spend hours in a vehicle or days in an unfamiliar town without creating a risk that no longer made sense to take. Killian absorbed the restriction without comment while we walked back from the medical wing. Only when the suite door closed did he speak. “They’ll need someone who can go,” he said. “Dante will want to handle the primary meetings himself. That leaves the secondary conversations and the follow up pressure short handed.” “And you’re still formally restricted,” I said. “Formally.” He leaned against the wall and looked at me. “The restriction was built during a different phase of this war. The coasta

The sound from the service corridor felt wrong. Killian was already on his feet when the first man came through the side door. He was not one of ours. A second figure followed behind him. The private room that had felt controlled a moment earlier turned into pure motion. Gunfire erupted from the direction of the service corridor. People moved. Chairs scraped. Someone shouted an order. Dante’s voice cut across the table, sharp and immediate. Chairs scraped. Weapons cleared. Father was pulled sideways by Marco. Enzo moved toward Bianca. I saw the angle of the second man’s arm. He was not aiming at Father. Not at Dante. Not at Killian. The barrel tracked toward Bianca, who had frozen for a second too long, still seated with her eyes wide. Instinct overrode everything else. I shoved myself over the table edge toward her, and threw myself sideways into the space between Bianca and the gun. The impact of my shoulder against hers knocked her down and clear. The impact came as I covered

The first days after surgery passed quietly. I stayed in the medical wing under continuous monitoring. The wound in my side hurt with every breath and every small movement. The physical pain was manageable. The other pain was not. Every time my hand drifted to my stomach out of habit, but emptiness answered. No movement. No answering push. Only my healing body that had failed to keep the child safe. Killian barely left the room. He slept in short intervals in the chair beside the bed, woke up whenever I shifted, and handled the nurses and security updates so I would not have to speak more than necessary. He did not force conversation. He did not offer false hope about the fertility questions the doctors had raised. He simply stayed present, while my grief did its slow work. Father came once. He stood at the foot of the bed, looked at the bandages and the IV lines, and said the only thing he seemed able to manage. “You lived. The people who did this will not.” Then he left. Dante fo