Temptation from My Husband's Brother - Chapter 5: Chapter 5
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My pulse kicked up the moment I realized we were alone—just Shane and me in the empty apartment. I couldn't even meet his gaze without my stomach twisting into knots. The fear of losing control clawed at me, relentless.
"Dinner's ready," I said, forcing a smile as I set out two plates. "Zach and Lily are working late, so we might as well eat." My voice sounded stiff, even to me.
The air between us was thick with tension, the silence broken only by the clink of silverware. I took a few sips of my milk tea, then paused. The flavor was off—stronger, almost bitter. At first, I thought it had spoiled. But then warmth bloomed low in my stomach, spreading fast. Too fast.
Shane's smirk told me he noticed before I did.
"I—I'm fine," I lied, fanning myself. "Just a little overheated."
His grin widened. In one smooth motion, he tugged off his shirt, leaving only a tight white tank that clung to every ridge of muscle. Before I could react, he yanked me against him, my face pressed to his chest.
Panic surged. If this had happened before, I might've given in—betrayed Zach without a second thought. But not now. Not after last time.
"Shane!" I shoved at him. "Let go of me!"
"Relax, Alice." His laugh was loud, careless—but then his voice dropped, low and urgent. "Play along. Someone's watching us."
Ice shot through my veins.
Again?
Just like at the karaoke bar. Now they'd followed me home?
Before I could process it, Shane scooped me up and carried me to the guest room. He locked the door, snapped the curtains shut, then set me down.
"Sorry," he muttered. "There was a camera aimed at the living room."
He cracked the door open, checking the hall before slipping out.
My hands trembled. "Someone filmed us through the window?"
Shane bolted for the elevator. I chased after him, but the doors slid shut before I could reach it. The intruder was gone.
We stormed to the property manager, demanding surveillance footage. Dead end. The stalker knew every blind spot.
By the time Zach got home, I was still shaking. He pulled me close, murmuring promises into my hair as we reported it to security. They swore they'd increase patrols.
Then, days later, a stranger sent me a friend request.
Thinking it was a client, I accepted.
The photos loaded.
Shane holding me, his muscles straining under that damn tank top.
And worse—a shot from the karaoke bar. The two of us, walking toward the restroom.
My vision swam. The phone nearly slipped from my grip.
"Dinner's ready," I said, forcing a smile as I set out two plates. "Zach and Lily are working late, so we might as well eat." My voice sounded stiff, even to me.
The air between us was thick with tension, the silence broken only by the clink of silverware. I took a few sips of my milk tea, then paused. The flavor was off—stronger, almost bitter. At first, I thought it had spoiled. But then warmth bloomed low in my stomach, spreading fast. Too fast.
Shane's smirk told me he noticed before I did.
"I—I'm fine," I lied, fanning myself. "Just a little overheated."
His grin widened. In one smooth motion, he tugged off his shirt, leaving only a tight white tank that clung to every ridge of muscle. Before I could react, he yanked me against him, my face pressed to his chest.
Panic surged. If this had happened before, I might've given in—betrayed Zach without a second thought. But not now. Not after last time.
"Shane!" I shoved at him. "Let go of me!"
"Relax, Alice." His laugh was loud, careless—but then his voice dropped, low and urgent. "Play along. Someone's watching us."
Ice shot through my veins.
Again?
Just like at the karaoke bar. Now they'd followed me home?
Before I could process it, Shane scooped me up and carried me to the guest room. He locked the door, snapped the curtains shut, then set me down.
"Sorry," he muttered. "There was a camera aimed at the living room."
He cracked the door open, checking the hall before slipping out.
My hands trembled. "Someone filmed us through the window?"
Shane bolted for the elevator. I chased after him, but the doors slid shut before I could reach it. The intruder was gone.
We stormed to the property manager, demanding surveillance footage. Dead end. The stalker knew every blind spot.
By the time Zach got home, I was still shaking. He pulled me close, murmuring promises into my hair as we reported it to security. They swore they'd increase patrols.
Then, days later, a stranger sent me a friend request.
Thinking it was a client, I accepted.
The photos loaded.
Shane holding me, his muscles straining under that damn tank top.
And worse—a shot from the karaoke bar. The two of us, walking toward the restroom.
My vision swam. The phone nearly slipped from my grip.
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