Bonded with My Brother's Friend

Bonded with My Brother's Friend

Serena · Ongoing · 30.9k Words

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Introduction

I’m Evelyn Sterling, the Sterlings’ quiet adopted daughter, quietly pining for my foster brother Arthur.
I’ve kept that crush locked deep inside, never daring to let it surface. But one reckless, fateful mistake tangles me up with Edward Hartwell — Arthur’s sharp, ruthless friend.
A single impulsive kiss binds us to an unbreakable empathy link. Every ache, every flutter, every rush of heat passes between us. I feel what he feels. He feels every shiver that runs through me.
I’m desperate to break this strange, consuming tie. Edward offers me a dangerous deal: the bond can only be undone the same way it began.
What was meant to be a secret longing for Arthur has pulled me into a tangled game with the last man I should want. Now I can no longer tell which thrumming warmth belongs to me… and which belongs to him.

Chapter 1

Evelyn's POV

A burning sensation rose from my stomach toward my chest. By the time it reached my heart, I had my back pressed against the door of Room 1688.

My pulse hammered, my breathing turned shallow, and heat raced through my veins. Clutching the handle, I threw all my weight against the door to keep it shut.

Two men outside had swiped a keycard and were trying to force their way in. Every blow rattled the door against my back.

"That bitch got into the room before we could grab her!"

"Relax. The drug's kicking in. Break down the door and tie her to the bed. The guest of honor can take it from there."

I gasped and braced myself harder against the door. My trembling fingers gripped my phone. The call I'd just made was still connected, but the other end remained silent.

I'd meant to call my brother, Arthur Sterling.

I'd gotten no answer.

Today was a big day for the Sterling family. Arthur was getting engaged to Mia Hartwell, the Hartwell heiress.

Before we left, my adoptive mother, Beatrice Sterling, had leaned in to give me one last warning.

"Don't mess this up. Don't embarrass me. And don't even think about wanting something that isn't yours."

I'd answered with a bitter scoff.

After a few glasses of champagne, my chest began to tighten.

It couldn't have been the alcohol. I knew my limits, and three glasses had never affected me this way.

I tried to stand and get some air, but someone grabbed my sleeve and dragged me into an elevator.

Everything after that came in fragments.

I could only remember fumbling with a keycard, swiping it at Room 1688, and locking myself inside.

Now the gap around the door was growing wider.

Just as I was losing hope, faint, steady footsteps approached along the hotel's thick carpet.

The force against the door suddenly stopped.

Several muffled thuds followed, then the sickening crack of bone.

A man's voice cut through the silence.

Low. Calm. Final.

"Get lost."

The men scrambled away down the hallway.

I sagged against the door, struggling to breathe.

I'd heard those words directed at me more times than I could count. But never before had they made me feel safe.

The handle turned.

My knees were giving out. A man stepped through the door, and I threw myself at him.

I sagged against him, my breath hot against his skin, and lifted my face to find his mouth.

He gave the slightest flinch.

Then a cool sensation washed over me.

Mint.

Fresh and crisp, without a trace of sweetness.

Something about the scent was familiar, though I couldn't place it.

Arthur... does he eat mints?

Click.

The overhead light flickered on.

Warm yellow light caught the stranger's brow, leaving his eyes in shadow.

It wasn't Arthur.

Thick brows, a prominent nose, and sharply defined features gave him an intimidating look even when he stood perfectly still.

My knees nearly buckled again.

This time, from fear.

Edward Hartwell.

Unlike Arthur, who was always gentle and approachable, Edward was anything but warm.

He ran Hartwell Group, and of everyone in Arthur's circle, he was the one I feared most.

Two words summed him up.

Dangerous. Ruthless.

The lights came on, and the sight of his face cut through the haze.

I forced a smile.

"Why... why are you here? Where's Arthur?"

Edward said nothing.

Instead, he took my phone and turned the screen toward me.

The call was still active.

One name stared back at me.

Edward.

I'd dialed the wrong number.

Mortified, I felt heat creep up my neck.

I grabbed the hem of his jacket.

He'd taken Hartwell Group to the top of its industry in a few years. He'd seen every trick in the book.

Surely he could tell I'd been drugged without me having to explain.

"Edward," I rasped. "Could you help me—"

He bent down and turned his ear to my mouth. He was in no hurry.

I closed my eyes.

"...Could you call Arthur for me?"

His eyes darkened.

His hold on my lower back loosened, and he turned the platinum ring on his finger.

"That's not something you should be asking Arthur to handle," he said quietly.

He always wore custom platinum rings on his left ring finger and pinky. I'd never seen him take them off.

They looked ridiculously expensive.

I'd always figured the rings had something to do with a woman. He probably had more experience with this sort of thing than I did.

He probably saw me the same way the rest of the Sterlings did.

They all believed I wanted Arthur and was foolish enough to entertain impossible fantasies about him.

But my reason was simple.

Arthur was an ER doctor. He'd know what medication I needed to counteract the drug.

Edward's voice sharpened.

"So you threw yourself at me because you thought I was Arthur?"

I lowered my gaze.

"It's the drug. If a wild boar had walked through that door, I would've tried to kiss it too."

He went quiet.

Another wave of heat swept through me, my heart pounding against my throat.

I dug my nails into my palm, hoping the pain would keep me grounded.

Edward suddenly frowned, looking down at his hand before turning his gaze back to me.

I tried to push past him toward the bathroom.

"If you're not going to help, move. I'll deal with it myself."

My legs gave out halfway through the turn.

I stumbled into the minibar, but before the pain registered, Edward caught me around the waist.

He raised a hand and slowly leaned closer, his expression impossible to read.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Instead, the rough pad of his thumb brushed along my cheekbone, tracing it slowly and sending heat across my skin.

Then his fingers closed around my cheek in a hard pinch.

"Edward!"

My eyes flew open, furious.

But Edward remained perfectly composed, his expression indifferent and his lips set in a firm line.

"Looks like we're sharing physical sensations."

He added casually, "Don't believe me? Try it yourself."

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