Right Time, Wrong Brother Mga Nobela at Kwento

~Ivy Pov~ “Emma grace, if you put syrup inside your brother’s shoe again, I swear I will lose my mind before eight in the morning.” “It was an accident!” Emma yelled from the kitchen. “No, it wasn’t!” Noah shouted back immediately. “You looked directly into my eyes while doing it!” I closed my eyes briefly while standing in the middle of unpacked boxes with a half-folded school uniform hanging from my arm, this was my life, chaos, constant noise, missing socks. Sticky counters and somehow love hidden inside every exhausting second. A loud crash echoed from the kitchen.

“Maybe I forgot about a dog. But I know about the money. I know about the house. I know about the accident—” “Which one?” I cut in, my voice like a blade. “If you’re my brother, you’ll know which one almost killed me. Where was the scar? Left or right?” His mouth worked soundlessly. Sweat began to bead at his temple. “Left!” he barked finally. “Wrong,” I spat, the fury in me so sharp it burned my throat. “It was my right arm. I still have the scar. My brother never forgot that—he teased me for weeks about being clumsy.”

The message contained only one sentence. You found the wrong sister.

“Can you at least let me know what’s wrong?” “I’m surprised you don’t know,” she fired back instantly, but she stopped trying to leave. “What we are doing is wrong. I’m technically still married to your brother and now someone has seen us.” “You regret what happened.” The anger and concern that was written all over her face earlier seemed to disappear. “What we are doing is wrong,” her voice came out small but firm. “You want commitment and I’m not willing to give you that, to make it all worse I’m still your brother’s wife and now someone else is aware of what we have done.”

There's two Millers? When Finn straightened, something in his face had already snapped. "What the hell is wrong with you?” Miller didn't seem surprised to see Finn in North River. If you have a lunatic and a derailed maniac for a brother, nothing is new. "I'm gonna kill you!” Miller grabbed him by the collar, his jaw was tight, controlled, though his hand had curled into fists at his sides. "Why?" Finn's laugh was jagged, humorless and unfazed. "If I can't have her alone we better share her. You know… Her lips is the tastiest lips I've kissed in a while—”

“But to the wrong brother.” Her father’s expression faltered. “I did what was right for my family." Theo’s voice lowered. “Then, why did you abandon the rest of the deal?” The color drained from the older man’s face. “I… There must be some misunderstanding.” He stuttered. Theo’s smile did not reach his eyes. “I hope you'll say that."

I smoothed down the front of my blouse, adjusted my sunglasses, and tried to pretend my stomach wasn’t twisted into knots. This wasn’t just brunch. This was war. Because inside that mansion was Bruno — my ex, Adrian’s little brother, the boy who’d tossed me aside like I was nothing. He thought I’d cry, crumble, disappear. Instead, I was about to walk into his family’s house on the arm of the brother he never measured up to. If that didn’t rattle him, nothing would. The front doors opened before I could knock. Adrian stood there, immaculate as always, dressed in a crisp shirt with the sleeves rolled just enough to show the strength of his forearms. His dark eyes flicked over me, unreadable.

"You see, don't you? I did it all for you, Clarissa. All of this was for you." "No, this wasn't for me," I say, shaking my head. My eyes fill with tears and my throat's half choked with sorrow. Rattled men make mistakes. So this is finally the story of how my brother died. A half-crazy boy planted a bomb under a mafia Don's car and screwed up the fuse trigger. That's all, just a stupid mistake from a stupid, misguided teenager, and the ripples of that explosion continue on through the years, still ruining lives.

"Where did that ridiculous confidence of yours come from? How did you end up becoming my 'Bro'?" Justin shook his head and chuckled. "Aren't I your big brother? You're only two years older than my wife. So why can't I be your brother?" "You're so annoying!" Tim's cheeks were slightly hot, but strangely, his eyes were a little wet. He quickly turned around and took a couple of steps forward before muttering reluctantly, "Since we're not gonna see each other again, what do you care what my real name is? Just call me 'Long'!"

“The bastard doesn’t deserve a memorial.” “Yeah, but he didn’t deserve a bullet to his fucking head either.” Those words came out strong. Maybe a little too strong. And it was then I realized that something else truly was wrong. I pushed away from my car, taking a step toward my brother. “Whatever the hell it is you want to say to me, you should say it now. While I’m still giving you a piece of my time, that is.”