The Wrong Brother
Adrian Castellane.
“She’s mine.”
The words he’d thrown at his brother over brunch replayed in my head. Ridiculous, reckless words. But the memory of them sent a tiny shiver down my spine, as if my body hadn’t gotten the memo that I was supposed to hate him.
Before I could decide whether to groan or scream into my pillow, my bedroom door slammed open.
“Yo, yo, yo!”
Ariana Chan, my favorite cousin and resident chaos queen, barged in grinning like a psychopath.