Page 18 of Brutal Crown
I need to see him again, even if it’s to tell him “fuck you” to his face.
I find a door I think is his. My hand reaches for the handle, my heart pounding so loud it drowns out everything else. But before I can turn it, I hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps moving closer.
I’m going to get caught, and then I’ll land myself in deep trouble. I certainly didn’t think this through properly.
My eyes quickly scan around for a place to hide, and I spot the next door. It’s slightly open, just a crack. Without thinking, I dash into the next room and shut the door quietly behind me.
When I’m safe inside, I rest my forehead against the door and exhale in relief. That was close.
But when I turn, I freeze.
Bare chest, damp hair, and a towel slung lazily over a shoulder.
Marco.
My eyes widen, and his narrow into mischievous slits. And then, he smirks. That slow, dangerous kind of smirk that melts into something unreadable.
“Looking for me?”
6
FRANCESCO
Ending up in Marco’s room wasn’t part of my plans tonight. I was only on my way to double-check the final details for dinner and make sure everything’s in place when I heard it—the low murmur of voices behind Marco’s bedroom door. At first, I didn’t think anything of it. Marco’s always got a woman or two around. Nothing new there.
But when the laughter came, I halted. It was her laugh.
Now I’m standing in front of my brother’s bedroom door, my hand resting on the doorknob as I listen to the sound of her laughter again. It floats through the walls, soft and light, like she hasn’t got a care in the world. Marco’s voice comes after, too low for me to make out, but the tone? I recognize it. He’s flirting with her.
Without thinking too much about it, I push the door open and storm inside.
They pull apart like they’ve been caught doing something they shouldn’t. Lia stumbles back from her initial position, which was a little too close to my brother. My half-naked brother.
Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are a bit glazed, but other than that, she looks the same. I trail my eyes over her for any signs that he touched her… inappropriately, like I’ve touched her before. I see nothing.
Still, it doesn’t tame the fire inside me. Marco is now leaning against the dresser, shirtless and still damp from his shower. The smug tilt of his lips makes me want to punch him in the face.
And that’s when I realize it’s not just anger I’m feeling. It’s another emotion, painfully familiar ever since I came back to this house. Jealousy. It is ugly, twisting relentlessly in the pit of my gut.
“Out,” I say, my eyes locked on Lia.
She hesitates, glancing between me and Marco like she wants to say something. That only infuriates me further.
“I said get out,” I repeat, my voice colder now.
Her mouth opens as if to protest, but nothing comes out. She brushes past me quickly, and I will myself not to look at her. Instead, I savor the way her scent lingers in the air and settles in my lungs.
The moment the door clicks shut behind her, Marco scoffs. “Really?” he asks, wiping his hair aggressively with the towel.
“Stay away from her.” I say it in a low, warning tone, careful not to reveal how angry I truly feel.
He laughs, a harsh sound, and leans further back against the dresser. “Why? Last time I checked, she doesn’t belong to you.”
I resist the urge to claim her, to tell him that she does, in fact, belong to me. Instead, I take a step toward him, my jaw tight. “Don’t argue with me on this, Marco. This… warning is for your own good.”
Marco’s grin sharpens, and his eyes light up with something darker. “For my good?” He scoffs. “Or for yours?”
“Don’t—”
