Chapter 20
I received Mr. Storm’s call the following evening.
“I hear Julian moved near you. Lyra, just treat him like your real uncle.
“Grandpa truly adores you. Julian will be getting engaged soon–you and your family must attend.”
After hanging up, I felt hollow inside.
Even a fool could understand Mr. Storm’s implication–making me his adopted granddaughter was likely a way to bind Julian with moral and ethical constraints.
Julian was right–the old man was too cunning.
Feeling frustrated, I noticed the unopened birthday gifts piled nearby and began ripping them open as an outlet:
Maddox’s gift was predictably a certificate of deposit–the same every year, utterly unimaginative.
Jade had gotten tickets to a fan meeting with the idol we’d both obsessed over in high school.
Raine’s gift was a garden designed by an internationally renowned landscape architect. I’d once mentioned
wanting to visit it, and he’d actually purchased it for me.
Julian had sent a thin envelope containing a photograph and property documents. The photo showed a Finnish estate covered in lilies of the valley. These weren’t cut flowers–they were fresh, alive, vibrant.
But how could he have known?
Just then, he messaged me:
[Want some late–night food?]
I politely declined: [No need, thank you, Uncle Julian.]
He replied: [Don’t call me Uncle Julian.]
When I didn’t respond, he added a question mark. The playfulness improved my mood considerably.
A moment later, my doorbell rang.
Julian stood at the entrance holding a bowl of Tortellini.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
I crossed my arms, smiling: “Isn’t that inappropriate? An uncle visiting his niece’s apartment so late at night?”
His brow furrowed: “Did the old man say something to you?”
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Secretly Dating My Brother’s BFT Until His Hotter Rival Stole the Spotlight
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Chapter 20
“Mm–hmm, he mentioned Uncle Julian’s getting engaged! He even invited me to the wedding. How much should your niece gift for the occasion?”
Emboldened by his apparent interest, I grew increasingly shameless.
Each “uncle” and “niece” I uttered darkened Julian’s expression further.
“I wasn’t aware I was getting engaged. When did this happen?”
He squeezed past me into the apartment, placing the bowl on the entryway table.
“What… what are you doing?” I stammered.
I’d apparently overplayed my hand and quickly tried pushing him back.
He effortlessly captured both my wrists with one hand, bringing them to his chest as he leaned closer, his familiar scent enveloping me.
“Say it one more time?”
“Un… Uncle Julian?”
His kiss descended like a storm–hot, urgent, consuming. It began almost like a release of tension, gradually softening into tenderness.
When we parted, his ears were slightly red, his gaze fixed intently on my lips.
“The Tortellini will get cold. Eat first.”
I sat on the carpet with the bowl, my mind completely scrambled.
Yet Julian settled on the sofa, watching me as if nothing unusual had happened.
I could practically feel his stare burning into the back of my head.
I ate very slowly, contemplating what to ask him first–about that rainy night? Or the birthday gift?
By the time I finished the entire bowl of Tortellini, I’d made no decision.
I turned around to find him lounging comfortably against the sofa, observing me with relaxed amusement.
Though it was spring, I suddenly felt unbearably hot and breathless.
“So hot. I should turn on the AC.”
Distracted, I stubbed my toe against the coffee table edge and cried out in pain.
Before I could crouch down to nurse it, Julian pulled me onto his lap.
Whoa, the pain vanished.
Duathan’s DIT Until His Hotter Rival Stole the Spotlight
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Chapter 20
His body felt solid and warm beneath me, his scent even more intoxicating up close. I leaned toward his chest, sniffing like a puppy.
As his breathing grew increasingly rapid, I asked in a small voice:
“So… what shower gel do you use?”
Julian’s composed façade cracked. His hand pressed firmly against my lower back as he growled through clenched teeth:
“You’re doing this on purpose?”
I shook my head vigorously like a bobblehead doll.
He cupped my face in both hands, and as the atmosphere grew increasingly intimate, the doorbell shattered the
moment.
“Lyra! I heard your voice! Are you okay?”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.