Crossing Lines With His Brother

As soon as Heather got into the car, Tyler's hands started roaming freely. His hand slid onto her bare thigh, exposed by her short skirt. "Heather, why didn't you wear something warmer? Your legs are so cold, it's worrying me."

Heather pushed his hand away. "Stop it. Aren't you afraid Brett will find out?"

Tyler laughed. "Of course I'm scared. But what I'm more scared of is you being lonely, without anyone to care for you."

They bantered back and forth, but inwardly, Heather felt sick. What a disgusting man. The thought that she was considering him as the father of her child filled her with regret.

In truth, in terms of knowledge, looks, and character, it was Jason she truly favored.

His genes were nearly perfect, and she had approached him with that in mind—for the sake of her future child. But Jason wasn't willing.

Damn him, she cursed him again in her mind. He was such a fool.

Oh well, Tyler and her were both adults, with clear intentions. He had asked her out, she had agreed to meet him—what was bound to happen next should be pretty obvious.

Tyler drove straight to the hotel, the bag he had brought rustling as he squeezed it with excitement. His voice oozed impatience. "Heather, I promise today's card game will make you feel very, very good…"

Heather watched him, repulsed by the lewd look on his face. There wasn't an ounce of desire in her for him. In fact, he disgusted her. But what choice did she have now? Even with all the revulsion, she had to go through with it.

The car rolled into the underground parking lot. As soon as they stepped out, Tyler was on her, groping her from behind, his hands all over her.

Heather was half-held by Tyler, and the discomfort ran up her spine until her scalp tingled.

Turns out she wasn't as capable of throwing herself away as she thought. Not just with anyone.

Her steps slowed, hesitation creeping in, when suddenly, from the opposite direction, a car's headlights flared, cutting through the dim light.

Tyler squinted, irritated by the brightness, and cursed under his breath.

He looked up, and his voice suddenly shot up an octave. "What the hell? You've got to be kidding me!"

Heather's heart pounded hard and erratically, an unease gripping her. She lifted her eyes and saw, through the blinding headlights of the luxury car, a man sitting inside, staring at them coldly, his gaze sharp and ghostly.

Jason, once again, appeared as if from nowhere.

He opened the car door, stepping out with deliberate calm. His usual demeanor—reserved, unfathomable—carried a weight that made Tyler's legs go weak. Already guilty, he crumbled under the scrutiny.

"Heather, I—I gave you your stuff back, right? I, uh, I gotta go, I have something to take care of," Tyler stammered, panicking.

Without a second glance at Heather, he turned and hurried into his car, speeding off in retreat, leaving her standing there.

Heather didn't bother with him. She didn't feel the need to explain anything to Jason either.

She turned to leave when suddenly, Jason reached out behind her, his hand gripping the back of her neck.

The force in his grip made her spine crack slightly under the pressure.

She heard Jason's cold voice behind her. "Heather, you really must be tired of living."

Heather wanted to curse him for being nosy. It was her life, and even if she made a mess of it, it had nothing to do with him.

But Jason didn't give her a chance to speak. He hooked an arm around her, covering her mouth and nose with his hand.

Heather struggled to breathe as he dragged her toward his car. She kicked and squirmed, and then she heard a loud crash—her handbag had fallen to the ground.

It spilled open, revealing an array of items she had prepared for the evening's entertainment. They were of all shapes and sizes, scattered across the pavement like confetti.

An inexplicable wave of anxiety washed over her. She could hear Jason's low, mocking laugh in her ear.

His voice was tight with suppressed anger. "Heather, is this what you want? To be toyed with by men?"

There was a hatred in him that she couldn't comprehend. He yanked her into the car and bent her limbs, securing her tightly in the back seat.

With a heavy slam, he shut the door. The calm demeanor he usually wore was replaced by something feral, his expression twisted into a menacing snarl. "I'll give you exactly what you want."