Novel & Cerita Amitys Brother

“Because it isn’t relevant.” My jaw tensed. “I think I consider it relevant, Damien.” He looked up, meeting my eyes with a measured calm. “Luca walked away from this family a long time ago,” he said, voice even. “He made his choice. We haven’t spoken in two years.” I studied his face for a moment. “But he’s your brother,” I said softly. “Your blood.” “And he turned his back on that blood.” Damien replied, sipping his wine. “You don’t need to concern yourself with him. He’s just our business partner and that’s all.”

And as she lay down, staring at the ceiling, she realized something else: this wasn’t over. It was just the beginning. Her best friend's brother was prohibited.

I guess it's true what they say, opposits do attract. Amy is also the only one who would open a conversation with a sexual question. She always seemed to ask me aboht my sex life, which is quite boring actually. I had my fair share of bed buddies, but they were nothing compared to Joshua. He needed nothing more than a whole night to ruin me for any other man. That fucker -pun intended. "It's his brother." I reply to her earlier question without even thinking about the concequences. "Who's brother? My brother?" She gasps. "Ieuw, you're fucking Dan? Girl, that's bloody disg-"

Amara’s heart raced—another attack? The door opened, and a man stepped out—tall, silver-haired, with a face that mirrored Adeyemi’s but softer, older. He held up his hands in surrender. “Amara Obi? I’m Vincent Adeyemi. Victor’s brother.” V. Not Victor—Vincent. Amara tensed, Ezekiel stepping protectively in front of her. “What do you want?” Vincent’s eyes were sad, weary. “To talk. My brother’s actions… they’ve destroyed too much. But there’s more you need to know.”

Damien ordered Alice to clean up the mess Amaya made before they left on their way to his mansion, Damien glanced from time to time through the review mirror to check on his sister who was sleeping at the back of his car. He knows that if not for Edward being like a brother to him, he is very sure he would have sent him to the hospital to spend the rest of his life for hurting his baby sister but he is not just a friend but a brother that's why he wants to allow them both determine the faith of their relationship.

But then Alfred broke the silence. “Well this is nice,” Alfred said. “Just some drinks with friends. Shall we, shall we cheers? To friendship?” Leave it to Alfred to call out the elephant in the room. Everyone lifted their glasses and reluctantly clinked them together. Alfred continued, determined to lighten the mood. “Mercy is it?” he said, looking across the table. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Alfred, Amelia’s brother. Amelia’s BETTER brother,” he smiled salaciously.

" Just as Sasha was about to retort, she looked up and saw this tall, sturdy guy again. She had been scolded by him several times before. His words were sharp and merciless, showing no mercy to a girl. "I bet no woman wants you! With such a sharp tongue, which girl would want to date you? You'd probably scare them to death." Sasha snorted, hands on her hips, and said to Jessamine, "My brother likes Amy. I advise you not to mess with us Holts anymore. Don't be too proud. I just texted my brother. He'll take Amy to the hospital for a check-up soon. "As for you trying to take over her company, my brother will settle the score with you sooner or later!"

He wipes a tear with his finger and I roll my eyes. Drama king. "I know most of you think I hate my brother," he continues , "but I don't. Infact, my fight with him at my engagement party was because of her." I frown. Where is this headed? He stares into the camera, "Sara Jane is a manipulative liar and schemer and today I come out to free myself from her treacherous web and also pull the wool from my brother's eyes. Today," He pauses. "I come out to say that she," his eyes bores into the camera, peering at me like he was there with me in the room.

“I can’t keep doing this and then stand at that altar. I can’t be both things.” Something moved across his face. Fast, there and gone. “So don’t be,” he said. “What?” “Don’t stand at the altar.” His voice was even, but his jaw was tight. “Call her. Tell her something came up. A grant program, a semester abroad, anything. You’re good at reasons.” I stared at him. “You’re asking me to miss my sister’s wedding.” “I’m asking you to stop punishing yourself for something neither of us can undo.”