The Don’s Fake Sister in Law Chapter 09

The Don’s Fake Sister in Law Chapter 09

Nathan never explained why he was at the hospital.

He took me home and immediately started doting on me-warming his hands to rub my stomach,

tucking me in to keep me warm.

He hovered all day. By evening, Ethan showed up again.

I could hear them arguing from the bedroom.

Nathan dropped his voice low, clearly not wanting me to hear. “Why are you here again?”

Ethan sat beside him like it was nothing. “Worried. Came to check on you.”

Nathan was seething, but kept quiet to avoid my attention. “I’m fine. Get out.”

Ethan coughed, awkward. “Claire isn’t a good woman, you know. ‘Vicious’ doesn’t cover it. She’s playing you. You know you’re not really amnesiac.”

Nathan blinked at him. “My acting is flawless. And the medical records-your setup-no holes.

How would she figure it out?”

Flawless-except Ethan had sent me the video of their whole conversation before the plan even

started.

Ethan would never admit that.

Turning Nathan against me and tipping me off would make him the bad guy to everyone.

When Nathan saw Ethan stay quiet, he took it as guilt.

“Ethan, stop trying to drive us apart. I used to believe you were all about the family, not romance.

But you’re sneakier than I thought, Ethan. All those tricks, and you played them on me.”

“This time, I played myself. But I won’t lose. I’ll make Claire fall for me again.”

“If you have any guilt-if you want to make this right-don’t tell her I faked the amnesia. If you do,

I’ll hate you forever.”

Ethan hesitated. “Actually…”

He couldn’t finish.

Before, he’d have rushed to deny anything between us.

But now, the words didn’t come.

Nathan narrowed his eyes. “Actually what?”

Ethan stood abruptly, feigning boredom. “Actually, I’m tired of arguing with an idiot.”

Without another word, he walked into my bedroom, as smoothly as if I were already his donna.

He stood by the bed, watching me for a long time. When he saw my eyes closed, he slipped in beside

He’d barely relaxed when I rolled over and faced him.

He froze. The man who’d told me to get out just hours ago was now sneaking into my bed.

Caught off guard, he pulled out his phone and sent me another wire transfer.

He smiled, awkward and tense. “Someone’s watching my Soho apartment. Can’t go back there tonight. And Nathan’s still prowling the estate. Need a place to lay low for a bit. Figured I should pay my share.”

I glanced at the number. “This isn’t a shelter. And that’s not a protection fee. That’s… the overnight rate.”

I leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Ethan went rigid. Like a gun to the back of his head.

When I went for more, he shoved me back, scrambling to the edge of the bed.

His chest heaved, his ears and neck flushed red.

He was untested with women, and I’d known it from the start.

This was probably the closest he’d ever been to one-close enough to count her eyelashes.

He gritted out, “Don’t be so shameless,” and yanked the blanket over himself, turning away. No amount of coaxing made him turn back.

I shrugged, switched off the light, and went to sleep.

Later, when he thought I was out, he crept closer. He wrestled with himself for a long moment, like

deciding whether to pull the trigger.
Then he leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. Once. Twice.
Clumsy fool.
I’d woken up the moment he came near. The tentative brushing was unbearable.
Eyes closed, I murmured something sleepy and reached up, hooking my arms around his neck.
He went rigid, his breath stopping, too scared to push me away-afraid I’d wake up and see him this.
I muttered his name into the dark. “Ethan….”
He froze.
A long silence passed before I heard him breathe back, barely audible. “It’s me.”