Caught Between Two Brothers ( love triangle)
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She thought patience would earn her love.
She was wrong.
After years of waiting for her best friend to finally see her, she meets the one man she should never want-his older brother. Dark, forbidden, and dangerously perceptive, he sees through every excuse she's ever made for being overlooked.
Now she must choose between a safe fantasy that keeps breaking her heart and a dangerous truth that offers no escape once it begins.
Because the brother who looks at her like that?
He doesn't believe in halfway love.
Caught Between Two Brothers ( love triangle) Chapter 1
The text message was three words long, but it felt like a detonator.
I need you. I didn't check the time. I didn't grab a jacket, even though the October air in Seattle was sharp enough to draw blood. I just ran. I had been running toward Ethan Vale for six years, through his promotions, his depressions, and his endless cycle of beautiful, hollow women who treated his heart like a seasonal accessory.
I was the constant. The "safe" girl. The one who held the umbrella while he stood in the rain for someone else.
As my tires screeched into his luxury apartment complex, my heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. This is it, I thought, a desperate, shameful hope blooming in the center of my chest. The toxicity is over. Claire is gone. Now, he'll see me. Finally, he'll see that the person who loves him most has been standing right here.
I used the spare key, the one he'd given me four years ago "for emergencies", and burst through the door.
"Ethan?"
The penthouse smelled of expensive bourbon and ruin. It looked like a war zone. A crystal decanter had been shattered against the floor-to-ceiling window, the amber liquid weeping down the glass like blood. Designer furniture was overturned, and silk pillows were torn.
In the center of the wreckage sat Ethan.
He was slumped against the mahogany bar, his head in his hands. He looked small. This man, who commanded boardrooms and turned heads in every room he entered, looked like a broken child.
"Maya?" His voice was a rasp, thick with liquor and grief.
"I'm here." I was across the room in seconds, dropping to my knees in the glass-strewn carpet. I didn't care about my jeans; I only cared about the way his shoulders shook. "Ethan, talk to me. What happened?"
"She's gone," he choked out, finally looking up. His blue eyes were bloodshot, his golden hair a chaotic mess. "She called me... she called me emotionally dead, Maya. She said I don't know how to love. She said I'm just a hollow suit."
"She's wrong," I whispered, reaching out to cup his face. My thumbs brushed away the salt of his tears. "She never understood you. Not like I do."
He leaned into my touch, a desperate, seeking movement that made my breath hitch. For a second, the air between us charged. I could see the reflection of my own yearning in his pupils. I thought, Kiss me. Realize it's me. Realize the search is over.
But he didn't kiss me. He collapsed forward, burying his face in the crook of my neck, sobbing into my skin.
I spent the next three hours in caretaker mode, a role I had mastered to a fault. I cleaned the glass so he wouldn't cut his feet. I made him tea he didn't drink. I eventually managed to steer him to the sofa, where he clung to my hand like a life raft.
"Don't leave," he murmured, his eyelids fluttering shut.
"I'm not going anywhere," I promised.
As he drifted into a drunken stupor, his weight heavy against my side, I allowed myself one moment of weakness. I leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead.
"I love you, Ethan," I whispered into the silence of the room. "I've always loved you."
I stayed there, anchored by his weight, until my own eyes grew heavy. I fell into a light, restless sleep, dreaming of a version of Ethan that finally turned around and reached for me.
5:00 AM.
A cold draft sliced through the room, snapping me awake.
The apartment was still dark, save for the blue-gray pre-dawn light filtering through the windows. My neck was stiff, and Ethan was dead to the world, snoring softly against my shoulder. I started to shift, intending to adjust the blanket I'd thrown over us, when I froze.
I wasn't alone.
A silhouette stood in the archway of the kitchen, framed by the shadow of the hallway. He was motionless, a dark monolith that seemed to absorb what little light remained in the room.
My heart did a slow, terrified roll in my chest. "Ethan?" I whispered, even though I knew the man beside me hadn't moved.
The figure stepped forward.
The floorboards didn't creak. He moved with a predatory silence that made the hair on my arms stand up. As he entered the gray light of the living room, I realized this wasn't Ethan.
He was taller. Broader. Where Ethan was golden and polished, this man was iron and grit. He wore a black tactical jacket and dark jeans, and as he stepped closer, I saw the ink-dark, intricate tattoos that climbed up the tanned column of his throat and disappeared under his jaw. A jagged, thin scar traced a line from the corner of his left eye down to his cheekbone.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked.
His voice wasn't a rasp like Ethan's. It was a low, vibrating growl that seemed to rattle the very bones in my chest.
I scrambled up, nearly dumping the sleeping Ethan onto the floor. I felt disheveled, my heart racing, my "emergency" dress wrinkled and stained with Ethan's tears.
"I'm Maya," I snapped, trying to find my voice through the sudden surge of adrenaline. "I'm Ethan's friend. I have a key. Who are you? How did you get in here?"
The man stopped three feet away. He didn't look at the mess in the room. He didn't look at his sleeping brother.
He looked at me.
His eyes were a storm-cloud gray, so piercing and perceptive that I felt suddenly, violently naked. It wasn't a sexual look; it was a diagnostic one. He was stripping away my layers, reading the desperation in my posture and the puffiness of my eyes.
"Friend, huh?" he said. His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile that didn't reach his eyes. "The kind of 'friend' who sits in the dark and waits for the scraps?"
The blood rushed to my face. "Excuse me?"
"I'm Cade Blackwood," he said, ignoring my indignation. He tossed a set of heavy keys onto the bar, the same bar Ethan had destroyed. "I'm his brother. I just got back from overseas."
Blackwood. I'd heard the name whispered by Ethan's parents in hushed, ashamed tones. The black sheep. The one who went into the military and never came back. The one they said was "too much like his grandfather."
"Ethan never said you were coming," I managed to say, clutching the back of the sofa.
Cade stepped even closer, invading my personal space. He smelled of rain, tobacco, and something metallic-like spent shell casings. He looked down at Ethan, then back at me, his gaze lingering on the way I was still subconsciously trying to shield his brother.
"He wouldn't," Cade said. "Ethan only remembers things that are useful to him."
He reached out. I flinched, but he wasn't touching me. He picked up a stray lock of my hair that had fallen over my shoulder, his rough, scarred fingers grazing my skin for a fraction of a second. An electric shock, sharp and terrifying, bolted through my system.
"You've been here all night," he noted, his voice dropping an octave. "Cleaning his mess. Holding his hand. Hoping that when the sun comes up, he'll realize you're the prize he's been looking for."
"You don't know anything about me," I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of fury and fear.
Cade leaned down, his face inches from mine. I could see the flecks of silver in his gray eyes.
"I know enough, Maya," he murmured. "I know the look of a woman who's been starving for a man who's already full of himself."
He straightened up, his shadow looming over both of us.
"Go home, Maya. He's not going to wake up and suddenly see you. Men like Ethan don't see the air they breathe, they just take it for granted until they start to suffocate."
"He needs me," I insisted, though it sounded weak even to my own ears.
Cade turned toward the kitchen, his movements fluid and dangerous. Over his shoulder, he threw one last look that felt like a brand.
"He doesn't need you. He needs an audience. And you? You need a wake-up call."
He walked away, leaving me standing in the wreckage of his brother's life, the echo of his words stripping away the last of my "safe" fantasy.
My hand went to my throat, where the air still felt charged from his presence. Ethan was my past, my six-year habit, my safe harbor.
But Cade? Cade Blackwood was a landslide.
And I was standing right at the bottom of the hill.
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Caught Between Two Brothers ( love triangle) of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6
Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels
7.3
I found out my husband of three years had cheated on me and his mistress is the one who told me-because he didn't have the balls to do it himself.
I move out and get a new apartment, a job as a bartender, and try to move on with a broken heart. I wonder where it all went wrong, if I hadn't been enough for him, if I'd been stupid for marrying him in the first place.
I'm at work one night when he walks inside-the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He sits at the bar and a forest fire burns between us. I was depressed the moment before he entered, but the second I look at his blue eyes, I forget the dumpster fire that my life has become. I invite him back to my place and it's the most passionate night of my life. I expect to never see him again.
I just want him as an anti-depressant-but he wants me all to himself. I just got my heart ripped out of my chest so I want something easy and no-strings-attached, but he wants all the strings because he's hooked.
I don't get much of a say in the matter, and that's not surprising when I learn why-because he's the Butcher. The crime lord of all crime lords, the boss that overshadows all of Paris, that makes everyone abide by his rules-or pay.
And now I'm his.
8.0
"Just watch... I'll take you away from that deceitful woman."
Yvette whispered softly, but the resolve in her heart was unshakable.
Her heart shattered as she witnessed the wedding of Aaron-the man she had loved for so long, the very same adoptive brother who once gave her a sense of home-to another woman.
It was no secret.
Aaron knew how she felt.
And yet, he still chose to marry someone else... as if Yvette's love had never meant a thing.
Just when she tried to accept that painful reality, she uncovered a truth far more devastating.
Belinda... was not as kind as she seemed.
The cunning hidden behind her gentle smile only made it harder for Yvette to let go-only strengthened her belief that the man she loved had fallen into the wrong hands.
The love she had once buried deep within her heart had now twisted into something far darker.
An obsession.
Yvette no longer wished to surrender.
She would take back what was meant to be hers... by any means necessary.
Even if it meant destroying their marriage.
7.9
For years, Elara Park endured being called "half-breed" and "weak blood" at pack meetings. Because she was a hybrid wolf, she trusted Zack Blackwood's sweet promises.
Then he rejected their fated mate bond moments after claiming her body.
Before she could even breathe through the soul-crushing agony, the news was already celebrating his engagement to her vindictive stepsister, Selina. The headlines gushed about their "perfect pureblooded union."
Her mother's call came like a final blow: "Elara, you're twenty-three now. It's time you contributed to the family."
Marry the worthless second son of a prominent Alpha family or lose her father's empire forever. They had her trapped, ready to steal her birthright and leave her powerless.
But as the heartbreak bled out, ice-cold determination took its place.
Elara went to the arranged meeting at the city's most exclusive club, determined to turn her mother's matchmaking scheme to her advantage. She would agree to marriage-but on her own terms.
When she found who she believed was Damian Sterling in the private suite, she cut straight to business: a contract marriage with clear boundaries, separate lives, and a guaranteed escape route.
What she didn't know? The devastatingly dangerous man who'd just signed her contract with a predator's smile wasn't the pathetic playboy she expected.
He was Dominic Wolfe-the Alpha King who'd been relentlessly hunting her for years.
And now, she'd just signed herself over to him completely.
7.6
After an exhausting fourteen-hour flight, Katia returned to her Upper East Side penthouse, expecting the quiet comfort of the life she had built.
Instead, she found a pair of familiar red stilettos in the foyer and her fiancé, Caleb, tangled in their bedsheets with his twenty-two-year-old assistant.
She didn't scream or cry. She simply took off her three-carat engagement ring, threw it at his bare chest, and demanded he buy out her half of the penthouse by Friday.
Seeking to numb the sickening disgust, she got blackout drunk and crashed at a luxury hotel, accidentally stumbling into the wrong suite.
Thinking the imposing man inside was a high-end escort hired by her friend, she threw him over her shoulder and spent a wild night with him.
The next morning, she left five thousand dollars on his nightstand with a lipstick-stained note.
"Good Job."
For six years, she had funded Caleb's dreams and built his startup from the ground up, only to be treated like a lifeless ATM.
With ruthless precision, she spent the next two months systematically bankrupting his company, cutting off his venture capital, and erasing his life's work.
She felt no heartbreak, only a cold, calculating need to cleanse herself of his betrayal.
But when Katia finally returned to corporate headquarters to co-lead a massive merger, she literally crashed into the new Vice President.
Strong arms caught her waist, and the sharp scent of cedarwood and whiskey hit her like a freight train.
"You came back," Jackson whispered, his eyes burning as he stared at the woman who had treated him like a cheap gigolo.
8.9
I was tossed into a dark alley like rotting garbage, bleeding and grieving the child I had just lost.
When I was finally brought back to my fiancé Angelo's penthouse, instead of comfort, I was met with absolute disgust.
His family declared me "unclean" after the kidnapping. Angelo coldly announced he was burying the scandal by marrying my sweet, innocent cousin, Carissa.
When we were alone, Carissa stood over my bed, her voice dripping with venomous delight.
"My father arranged the kidnapping. And now, Angelo and I can finally be together."
Before I could react, she forced a silver letter opener into my hand, deliberately stabbed her own shoulder, and let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Angelo stormed in, struck me across the face, and gathered a sobbing Carissa into his arms, looking at me with absolute revulsion.
The family matriarch appeared at the door, her cold eyes sweeping over the scene before she gave a chilling order to the maids.
"Clean this up."
They pinned me down and brutally drove the blade directly into my chest.
I choked on my own blood, staring at the man who had promised me the world as he turned his back, calling my murder a "mercy."
As my heart beat its final agonizing rhythm, I made a silent vow to the shadows that if there was a next life, I would have my vendetta.
When I opened my eyes again, there was no blood, only the soft silk of my nightgown.
I had returned to the day before my eighteenth birthday.
This time, I wouldn't play the desperate victim. I was going to ally with the Devil of Chicago and burn them all to the ground.
9.0
Ashlyn was supposed to be just a fragile college student, selling her rare blood to a vicious crime syndicate enforcer to keep his dying sister alive.
But the dynamic shattered when Alex returned from a two-month disappearance. He stepped into the penthouse covered in dirt and blood, sporting a horrific, jagged knife wound slashed completely across his face.
Knowing exactly how to exploit his insecurities, Ashlyn played the role of the terrified victim to perfection. She screamed, pushed against his chest, and called him a terrifying monster. Humiliated and enraged by her blatant disgust, Alex violently smashed a marble table and kicked her out. He forced her out into a freezing, torrential rainstorm without a coat, vowing to kill her if she ever showed her face again.
What the ruthless enforcer didn't know was that her pathetic, trembling tears were a flawless, calculated lie. She wasn't a helpless, greedy girl. She was a cold-blooded corporate mastermind hiding from a family of elite assassins. She desperately needed his impenetrable penthouse fortress to stay alive, and she knew the only way to secure her place wasn't to ask for it, but to make him beg for her return.
Three days later, his sister's organs began to fail, and the hospital's blood bank ran dry.
"I'll pay you whatever you want. Just get here."
Listening to the desperate, broken voice of the monster over her burner phone, Ashlyn smiled coldly in the dark. The trap had snapped shut, and he had just handed her all the power.
![[Dubbed Version] Reborn: No More Sacrifice](https://v.melolo.com/b1265344voduse1318177724/63087f205145403705174627356/tvUAVWvrB2AA.webp)
![[Dubbed Version] Reborn: The Boss Returns](https://v.melolo.com/b1265344voduse1318177724/4e680bda5145403706102284269/Nsjksvaf4XcA.webp)
![[Dubbed Version]When the Past Knocks Again](https://v.melolo.com/b1265344voduse1318177724/3d95b9805145403705289312835/sP4eVATvW6UA.webp)
