Chapter 4 #4
“Please. You’re as workaholic as Henry is punctual.
” She settled back, crossing her legs like she was preparing for a long siege.
“And here I thought you’d finally make a move the moment he turned twenty-one.
Instead, you’re sitting here, destroying innocent office supplies while some lucky person could be sweeping him off his feet. ”
The image of Lan with someone else made something dark and possessive curl in Jaxson’s chest. It wasn’t just jealousy—it was a territorial rage so profound it momentarily blurred his vision, his body responding with a flood of aggression that made his hands shake.
His jaw clenched until the pressure bordered on pain, his heartbeat thundering in his ears with a single word repeating like a primal chant: Mine.
Mine. Mine. The thought of someone else touching Lan, claiming what every cell in Jaxson’s body recognized as his—his to protect, his to possess, his to worship—wasn’t just upsetting.
It felt fundamentally wrong, like a violation of some cosmic law he couldn’t articulate but felt branded into his very DNA.
Someone else touching him, making him laugh, kissing those lips that Jaxson had spent far too much time thinking about.
The thought was physically painful, like a knife twisting between his ribs.
“Sofia—” he began, a warning note in his voice.
“I mean, he’s young, gorgeous, single… How long before he finds someone? Falls in love? Gets married?” Each scenario felt like a knife to the gut, the imagined future playing out in vivid detail in Jaxson’s mind. “Has a whole beautiful life with someone who isn’t too scared to—”
“Enough.” The word came out sharper than intended, edged with a desperation Jaxson couldn’t quite hide.
Sofia’s expression softened, the teasing gleam in her eyes giving way to genuine concern. “You can’t keep torturing yourself like this, Jaxson. Three years of watching you pine is enough to drive anyone crazy. Just tell him.”
“Tell him what?” Jaxson laughed, the sound bitter even to his own ears. “That his trusted older brother, the one who’s supposed to protect him, wants to pin him against the nearest wall and—” He cut himself off, running a hand through his carefully styled hair. “Yeah, that’ll go over well.”
The words hung in the air between them, more honest than Jaxson had intended. The fantasies he’d been suppressing—of Lan beneath him, around him, those dark eyes wide with pleasure instead of innocent trust—flashed through his mind, bringing heat to his face and shame to his heart.
“Better than watching him walk away with someone else,” Sofia countered, her voice gentler now, though no less determined.
“He already wants to move out.” The admission felt like defeat, the words leaving a bitter taste in Jaxson’s mouth.
“What?” Sofia sat up straighter, surprise evident in her expression. “When did this happen?”
“This morning. He let it slip in the car, then practically ran away when I asked about it.” The memory of Lan’s panicked expression twisted something in his chest—the way those dark eyes had widened, how he’d physically recoiled from Jaxson’s touch.
“See? He can’t even stand being around me anymore. ”
“Or maybe,” Sofia said slowly, like she was explaining something to a particularly dense child, “he’s running for the same reason you’re sitting here destroying innocent office supplies instead of claiming what you want.”
The suggestion hung in the air, dangerous and tempting.
Could Lan possibly…? No. That was wishful thinking, projecting his own inappropriate desires onto his innocent stepbrother.
Lan was just growing up, seeking independence like any normal twenty-one-year-old.
It had nothing to do with the feelings Jaxson had been struggling to suppress.
Before Jaxson could process that disturbing thought, his phone buzzed. Client meeting in fifteen minutes. The mundane reminder of his responsibilities was almost a relief—something concrete to focus on, something that didn’t involve dissecting his inappropriate feelings for his stepbrother.
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Sofia announced, rising with suspicious timing. “Just… think about what I said? And maybe buy some new pens.” She gestured to the carnage on his desk—two broken pens and a mangled paper clip that had somehow become collateral damage.
She was gone before he could respond, leaving Jaxson alone with thoughts he’d been trying to suppress for three years.
Thoughts about ink-black hair and defiant eyes, about morning smiles and the way Lan said his name like it meant something more.
About the way he’d looked in the car this morning, vulnerable and beautiful in a way that made Jaxson’s chest ache with something he had no right to feel and no idea how to stop.
“Damn it,” he muttered, reaching for his jacket. He needed to focus on work, on being the responsible older brother, on anything except the way Lan had looked this morning, lips parted and cheeks flushed and—
Yeah. He was definitely going to need those new pens.