Secretly Loving My Adoptive Brothe

Camila's POV

"Ah, yes, just like that... deeper, Javier. I want it deeper... ah, Javier...."

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The loud knocking on the door instantly jolted me awake from my dream-a steamy one that, unfortunately, has been constantly haunting my sleep lately.

I was gasping for breath, exhaling a long, trembling breath in the dim light of my half-darkened room. Cold sweat drenched my entire body, leaving me feeling sticky and incredibly unsettled because the dream had felt so real. In my dream just now, Javier-my adoptive brother-kissed me so gently, intensely, and yet so insistently. The touch in my fantasy felt so vivid it left a lingering passion in my body.

"Camila, are you awake yet, sweetie? I thought today was your first day at work?"

Hearing the reminder from behind the door, I jolted awake. Damn, I almost forgot! Because of that damned dream, I'd forgotten the reality that today was my first day on the job.

"Yes, Mom, I'm awake!" I replied, half-shouting, trying to steady my voice so it wouldn't sound hoarse. If I didn't answer now, the angel-hearted middle-aged woman who'd adopted me would surely come back and knock on the door nonstop out of worry.

"Hurry up and come down-your older sister will get mad if you're late," she said again before her footsteps faded away from my room.

"Okay, Mom..."

I let out another long sigh, staring blankly at the ceiling. Instead of heading straight to the bathroom, my fingers moved of their own accord. They touched my cheek, trailed down to my lips, traced my warm neck, my rapidly beating chest, all the way to that sensitive spot down there. The lingering warmth from that dream still hung there, brazenly. I could still feel how Javier's lips and possessive touch had pampered my body.

"This is crazy. Why do I think about that crazy stuff every night? This shouldn't be happening," I whispered softly, cursing myself in frustration. I knew exactly that all of this was wrong. Very wrong.

Yes, I know we aren't biological siblings. Not a single drop of Villareal blood flows through my veins. But this family has been far too kind to me. They were the ones who saved me, brought me home to this grand house, and raised me with unconditional love when I was an orphan with no one left in this world.

I should know my place. I should lock away my feelings and see him purely as an older brother, my protector. But why is my heart acting this way? Why does my ego choose to love him as a man? Why do my fantasies dare to imagine making love to him every night? Especially since... Javier already has a fiancée chosen by the family.

****

The atmosphere at the breakfast table that morning felt quiet, with only the clinking of spoons against porcelain plates breaking the silence. The atmosphere was so stifling that my food tasted bland.

"Why, dear, do you have to apply for a job through the general hiring process with all those other people? After all, that company is our family business. All you have to do is tell your older brother, and you'll definitely get the position you want without having to go through all that trouble," Mom said, breaking the silence, gazing at me with eyes full of both affection and puzzlement.

Hearing Mom's words, I could only offer a faint smile, hiding the sudden wave of awkwardness that washed over me. My gaze shifted, stealing a glance at the far end of the table, right at Javier's face. He sat silently, sipping his coffee. As usual, his expression was flat, cold, and seemed completely unapproachable. Yet I knew, deep down in the very core of his heart, he was a kind and warm person. It's just that... I don't know why, over the past two years, he's become as stiff as an iceberg-especially toward me.

"It's okay, Mom. I don't want people at the office to think I got in through connections. I want everyone to know that I can make it on my own," I replied, trying to sound brave and confident even as my hand under the table began to clench my skirt.

"Just let him be, Mom. That's how he wants it. Don't force him. "She's an adult now and knows what's right and wrong," Javier replied firmly. His baritone voice was cold, cutting off the conversation without so much as a glance in my direction. He stood up immediately, smoothing out his immaculate suit.

"Hey, Javier, why are you leaving so suddenly? Aren't you taking Camila with you?" Mom asked in surprise as she watched her son hurry off.

"She's a grown-up now, Mom," he replied curtly, then walked away without saying a specific goodbye or even glancing at me.

I clenched my hands tightly under the table, hiding my knuckles-which had turned white-as I held back the sudden surge of pain that pierced me. As I swallowed the lump of tightness clogging my throat, I forced a small smile in front of Mom. Back then, she'd been so warm and protective toward me. If I was even a little sick, she'd be the one to panic the most. But now, everything had changed completely. She felt so distant, as if I were a stain she wanted to erase from her sight.

"I can go on my own, Mom," I said calmly, trying to reassure the middle-aged woman so she wouldn't worry.

"With the driver, right? Let the family driver take you," replied Dad, who had been silent until then.

"I can just take a taxi, Dad. It's faster via the shortcut. Mom and Dad, don't worry, okay? Bye, everyone!"

****

I thought Javier had already sped off in his car a while ago. But who would've guessed-my steps suddenly froze on the porch steps the moment I saw him still standing tall beside his car.

In his all-black business suit and slacks that fit his sturdy frame perfectly, he looked so commanding, as if the world were under his control. His stern face, paired with a strong, masculine jawline, made him a hundred times more handsome in the golden glow of the morning light.

I've always adored that face-the same face that, unfortunately, has been sneaking into my dreams and disrupting them every night lately.

In that moment, a small, foolish hope soared in my chest once more. I thought he was waiting for me on purpose to give me a ride. I thought the curt and cold attitude he'd shown at the dinner table earlier was just a mask because he was reluctant to show his concern. But as soon as he spoke, the words that came from his lips suddenly froze the blood in my veins all the way to the tips of my toes.

"Don't let anyone find out that we know each other. At the office, you have to be professional. Understand?"

His voice was low, heavy, cold, and laced with an absolute command that left no room for argument.

Stiffly, I nodded slowly while swallowing saliva that tasted as bitter as bile. "I understand, Javi."

"There are no nicknames like that at the office!" he cut in sharply, his tone rising an octave. His gaze, as sharp as an eagle's, pierced me mercilessly, as if I'd just committed a fatal mistake. "Remember, at the office you're just my subordinate, an ordinary staff member. So, address me politely!"

I nodded slowly again, struggling with all my might to steady the violent trembling in my knees, which had suddenly gone weak. My hand clenched the strap of my shoulder bag tightly, channeling all the searing pain that was spreading fiercely through my chest.

"Yes... sir," I whispered softly, almost in a murmur.

After hearing the answer he wanted, without another word or even a formal nod, Javier immediately turned his back on me. He got into his gleaming black luxury car, closed the door with a soft thud, then sped off, leaving the driveway behind. The car cut through the streets at high speed, ignoring my feelings, which had already been shattered into pieces behind him.

I stared at the trail of exhaust fumes from his car as it slowly faded into the morning air. My chest felt tight, empty, and filled with layers of guilt.

After all, who was I to dare hope for more?

****