MY BESTFRIEND'S BROTHER, MY RUIN

Chapter 3 C3

Word Count: 717 | Released on: 18/05/2026

you can trust, Raf

a "business meeting," leaving me with a heavy silence and a stomach full of lead. He thought I

the handle. It didn't budge. I pulled a bobby pin from my pocket-a trick Leo

the mahogany desk, my feet sinking into the thick carpet. I needed to find Leo's gamb

r-bound ledger sat inside. I flipped it open, my

Thorn

ere no losses at a casino. No betting slips. Just a date-the date

Amount: $5,000. Stat

rush. I flipped the page, my fing

ip town: $10,000. Conditio

nto a blurred, nauseating mess. Ignatius didn't save me. He didn't pay a debt. He bo

"gratitude" I felt for my savior-it was all a perfo

n shook the floo

th a loud slap. Ignatius stood in the doorway. He wasn't wearing the robe anymor

oo curious for you

o the room and kicked the door shut. The lock engaged w

my fingers were too stiff, too terrified to m

he warm, rich sound from befo

lready sprung. "I told you your brother left you. I just forgot to mention I gave him the plane ticket. He

ld see the reflection of my own

. No sound came

n, bruising and firm. "And you don't look at men like me unless you're desperate. You needed a

rushing against my forehea

broken vase made you cheaper to own. And now? Now ther

bruising my hip. He didn't look like a saint. He looke

yes dark with a terrifying, possessive hunger. "

Chapter End

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MY BESTFRIEND'S BROTHER, MY RUIN

OmegaX Romance

“"I thought you were my savior. I didn't know you were the one who set the fire." The day the debt collectors came for my family, I couldn't even scream. My voice has always been a prisoner of my anxiety, leaving me defenseless in a world of wolves. Then came Ignatius. My brother's best friend. A man with the face of a saint and the wealth of a king. He didn't just save me; he bought my world. He paid the debts, moved me into his palatial estate, and whispered that I was finally safe. For the first time, I felt the warmth of a "hero." I gave him my trust. I almost gave him my heart. But a saint doesn't keep cameras in your bedroom. The crushing realization hit harder than any blow from a collector: Ignatius didn't buy my debt-he created it. He paid the men who terrified my mother. He orchestrated the ruin of my brother. Every tear I shed was a calculated investment in my total dependence on him. He didn't want a lover; he wanted a broken pet. Now, the "Saint" has dropped his mask. Ignatius thinks because I am mute, I am powerless. He thinks because I am fragile, I am his. He's wrong. If Ignatius wants to play the Predator, I'll find a bigger one. His father, Cane-the cold, ruthless patriarch of the empire-is the only man Ignatius fears. I'm moving from the guest room to the master suite. I'm going to tear this family apart from the inside out, one forbidden dinner at a time. Ignatius ruined my life to own me. Now, I'm going to make sure the debt he owes me costs him everything.”