All Chapters of Claimed by the wrong leister brother: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

I didn’t answer immediately. My eyes just settled on him instead. We had bigger problems that were still unsettled. The Vipers’ message was still sitting in the thread on his phone. Noah. They knew she mattered to me. And they were perfectly willing to put their hands on her to get what they wanted. I tore my gaze away from him. As if I didn’t have enough fucking problems. Luca was busy staging his own funeral, Catherine was helping him sell the performance, and the Vipers had decided Noah was a convenient way to get under my skin. Three separate headaches. One woman caught in the middle. And Noah? I’d almost had her in my arms hours ago. Now she probably wanted to put a fucking knife between my ribs. Fair enough. I’d given her enough reasons to believe the worst of me, so I couldn’t exactly blame her for it. But I wasn’t about to let her become collateral damage in a war she knew nothing about. Not with the Vipers watching her. And certainly not while she

“Noah…” My fingers began twisting together in my lap. “I wanted him to understand that he couldn’t keep treating me like I’d always be there.” She caught my hands before I could knot my fingers any tighter, gently unfolding them between hers. “You were allowed to be angry with him.” “But I should’ve stayed.” “You didn’t know this would happen.” “I should’ve—” “Just, stop.” Her voice was gentle but firm. “You can regret how things ended without making yourself responsible for what happened to him.” I looked away. The last time I’d seen Luca, he’d been lying in that hospital bed, looking at me as if he couldn’t believe I was actually walking away. I’d wanted him to feel the hurt he’d put me through. I had never wanted him to die. “God, Luca.” Quinn squeezed my hand and let me bury my face against her. For a while, neither of us spoke. I listened to the quiet rhythm of her breathing, letting her fingers move through my hair. Then the image of the morgue cre

I pushed myself onto my elbows. “What is it?” She turned the phone towards me. “Noah. Open it.” I took it from her, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand. An email? I stared at the notification for a moment, my thumb hovering over the screen. A small knot tightened in my stomach as I tapped it open. Offer of Employment – Penetration Testing Specialist I blinked, then read the subject line again. Dear Ms. Covey, Following our assessment of your qualifications, technical experience and application, we are pleased to offer you the position of Penetration Testing Specialist at our Miami office. My fingers tightened around the phone. I read the paragraph again, slower this time, as though I might have misunderstood something. I hadn’t. I scrolled down. There were details about the compensation package, employment terms, benefits and onboarding requirements. My eyes skimmed over them, barely taking anything in until I reached the final paragraph. We would

Her grip on the handkerchief loosened. “Luca?” I nodded, letting my gaze drop to the carpet. “Yeah.” I let the silence stretch before speaking again. “We weren’t exactly on good terms. I know that. There was a lot of shit between us, and I was too busy being angry to do anything about it.” I paused, then looked back at her. “I kept thinking we’d have time to sort it out. That we’d eventually get around to talking.” Catherine’s eyes shook slightly in their sockets. “But I never wanted him dead,” I added, keeping my voice low. “Whatever happened between us, I wouldn’t wish that on him.” Well. There were a few things I would’ve wished on him. A particularly unpleasant encounter with a woodchipper came to mind. Catherine lowered her gaze. She pressed the handkerchief beneath one eye, then looked at me again. “I know.” Her voice wavered. “I was angry yesterday,” she said. “I shouldn’t have lashed out like that.” “It’s fine.” “No, it isn’t.”

In the first picture, Luca had an arm slung around her shoulders, grinning at the camera. Noah’s cheek was pressed against his, her smile was wide. The second had him pulling some stupid face. In the third, Noah was laughing so hard her eyes were squeezed shut, one hand planted against his chest. I lingered there. I’d seen Noah smile before. Usually when something caught her off guard, or when she was trying and failing to hide her amusement at something. But this was different. Then I looked at the last picture. Luca was facing the camera. Noah was looking at him. Not at the lens. Not at whoever was taking the picture. Him. Her expression had softened into something so open, so effortlessly affectionate, it made my jaw tighten. I knew that look. Six years. Six fucking years, and she’d spent them looking at my brother like he was the only man in the room. I turned the strip over, then back again. What the fuck had Luca done to deserve that? The bastar