Loving The Better Brother novel Chapter 66

Loving The Better Brother

Chapter 66 Annoyingly Hot

WILLOW

I gasped. The sound escaped me before I could stop it.

Luished

For a second, I simply stared at my bag in disbelief as the deep red wine spread across the pristine white leather.

My brain struggled to process what had just happened.

The Dahlia bag.

I could still remember the way Rocco looked slightly hesitant while giving it to me, like he wanted to say something more aside from it being the last one in the collection.

Along with that, he said it was something my father had always wanted me to have.

I had not fully understood what he meant at the time, but now that the bag was sitting there, soaked in wine, something inside my chest tightened painfully.

I grabbed the bag immediately, lifting it off the table with shaking hands. The wine had already begun soaking into the leather.

I grabbed a napkin from the table and started wiping the surface frantically.

The problem was that the leather was white, which meant the stain was impossible to ignore.

The more I wiped, the more it smeared.

My stomach dropped. I bit my lip hard.

Why did I feel like crying?

It was just a bag–just an object.

But for some reason, I already felt attached to it.

Maybe because he said my father had wanted me to have it.

Or maybe because this was the first time in a long while that something beautiful had belonged to me.

“Hey, hey,” someone interrupted casually. “It’s okay.”

I paused.

One of Serena’s friends leaned back in her seat with a dismissive shrug.

“It’s fake anyway,” she said. “So there’s nothing to worry about. How much is it? Marcus, just pay the production price.”

For a moment, everything went quiet. Then, the people around the table burst into giggles, making me

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Chapter 6 Annoyingly Hot

feel worse than I already did.

I looked at the bag, but was confused when the giggling suddenly halted. I shifted my gaze to Tristan and found that his stare was already sharper than before.

He looked at the girl who had spoken before, gazing at the others.

“Even if it’s fake or not,” he said calmly, “you don’t do that to someone and not apologize.”

I stopped wiping the bag and focused on him completely.

My heart skipped. I had never seen that expression on his face before.

He looked calm, but there was resentment behind his eyes.

“It’s real.” he said after a while.

Several heads turned toward him.

“The leather is real,” he continued. “It’s the Dahlia bag that Dahlia Atkins herself wore.”

“What?”

“No way.”

“Are you serious?”

A girl near the end of the table gasped.

“That bag?”

I held the bag tightly against my chest. Someone looked at me skeptically.

“Why would she have it?”

The question hung in the air.

“Clearly,” he said calmly, “she has something that you people here do not have.”

He paused briefly.

“Decency.”

“And empathy,” he added.

His gaze swept across the table.

“I have been sitting here listening to all of you tear her down,” he continued. “Just because you do not see her as part of your circle.”

Nobody spoke.

“Is that how you carry yourselves?” he asked quietly, “You take pride in your status and money, but

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Chapter ob Annoyingly Hot

honestly, that is all you have–which is useless when your values are skewed”

Tristan turned back to me then. The tension left his face almost instantly.

“Come here,” he said gently.

Before I could react, he took the napkin from my hand.

“Let me see.”

He crouched slightly beside me, carefully dabbing at the wine stain on the bag.

“It will be fine,” he said softly.

“I doubt that,” I muttered.

But his calmness was strangely reassuring. Then he glanced at my dress.

“Wait,” he said suddenly.

I looked down. The wine had spilled onto my dress, too.

“Hold still,” Tristan said.

He grabbed another napkin and began carefully blotting the stain right there–in front of everyone.

Fin=Shed

People were watching us openly. I could feel their eyes on the two of us, but for some reason, I no longer cared.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

My heart skipped again. Why did he have to look so good this close?

“I’m fine,” I said quietly.

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