Ruined By My Brother's Best Friend (by Silverwriter) novel Chapter 75

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wed, sep M

Ruined By My Brother’s Best Friend

No Exit

ckless shiver sizzled through my body, but I refused to let it shake my resolve.

I was leaving.

“None of your business,” I said, trying to pry his hands off me.

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He didn’t budge. Instead, his hands tightened on my waist as he pulled me even closer, my back practically pressed against his chest. Warmth rippled through me, making me falter for the briefest second.

I puffed out a breath, blowing the strand of hair away from my face. “Let me go.”

“Where are you going?” he asked casually, his tone almost bored.

“I’m leaving,” I replied, matching his nonchalant tone. “So let me go. It’s getting late.”

Alvise let one hand fall from my waist, then turned me until I was facing him.

My eyes drifted down his body, taking in the white singlet stretched across his broad chest, outlining the hard muscles of his arms and torso. It clung tightly over his abdomen before disappearing into the waistband of his grey sweatpants.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze to his face, noting the damp strands of hair falling across his forehead before settling on the endless blue of his eyes.

He didn’t say a word.

He simply watched me, his face unreadable and his demeanor unnervingly calm.

Refusing to let myself get distracted, I turned away and walked toward the elevator.

I jabbed at the elevator button, but the doors didn’t open. Instead, a soft beep echoed through the silence before a message flashed across the small display.

ACCESS CARD REQUIRED.

My stomach sank. This could not be happening right now.

I bit my lip and turned around. “It’s asking for your access card,” I mumbled,”

Alvise wandered back into the open kitchen. “Yeah?” he said.

“Yes,” I gritted through clenched teeth. “Come and let me out.”

He grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and drank from it without any urgency. “That’s not happening.”

I walked toward him. “I don’t want to stay here any longer.”

His shoulders stiffened ever so slightly as his eyes met mine. “And you’re telling me this because…?”

“Because you’re not letting me out!” I snapped, frustration spilling over.

His eyes narrowed, and one brow lifted. “Watch your mouth when you talk to me.”

I inhaled slowly before forcing myself to smile. “Please,” I said, “I need your access card.”

Silence stretched between us for several long seconds before he tilted his head. “No.” Then he picked up what looked like a

plate of beef stir-fry with steamed rice, sat on one of the kitchen stools, and calmly resumed eating.