Married To My Ex's Brother, Reborn Miraculously
Chapter 108: An old friend

Chapter 108: An old friend

Anne didn’t move. Her body remained taut against him, tingling from the feel of his warmth, his scent, his nearness. Every nerve felt heightened, alive.

"I wanted to leave the meeting midway and come straight to you," he murmured, hugging her closer, pressing her body snugly against his.

Her heartbeat thudded against his chest, wild and uneven. She felt the fabric of her robe shift slightly with his embrace and reminded her of what she wore underneath. Heat rushed through her, pooling in her stomach. Her toes curled against the carpet, and her fingers clenched at her sides, the anticipation and nervousness dancing within her like fire on her skin.

Augustine immediately noticed something was off. Anne stood rigid in his embrace, her arms unmoving, her body unnaturally still—so much so that it unsettled him. He gently loosened his hold and moved back just enough to study her face. Her cheeks were bright with color, her expression taut.

A crease formed on his brow. "Are you alright?" Reaching up, he placed his palm on her forehead, checking for a fever.

Anne tensed even more. A jolt of sensation rushed through her, and she abruptly stepped out of his reach.

"I–I’m fine," she stammered, quickly turning her face away, avoiding his gaze as if it would betray her racing thoughts. "You must be tired and hungry. Go freshen up. I’ll serve dinner." She darted out of the room before he could say another word.

Augustine remained standing where she had left him, stunned and motionless, the warmth of their earlier connection suddenly cooled by confusion. His brows furrowed deeper, his thoughts racing.

’She was acting strange... like she was avoiding me. But why?’ he pondered, a faint ache settling in his chest. ’Didn’t she say there was a surprise waiting for me? What changed between then and now? Why did she look so nervous?’

The joy of seeing her began to dull beneath the weight of uncertainty as he stood in the quiet room, trying to make sense of the shift in her behavior.

Augustine raked his fingers through his hair, his mind clouded with confusion. ’Why is she so hard to figure out?’ he thought. ’Sometimes, she looks at me like I mean the world to her, and the next moment, she won’t even meet my eyes. What am I supposed to do with you?’

He felt caught in a tug-of-war between hope and helplessness, and the emotional whiplash was wearing him down.

His chest tightened, and with a sharp breath, he walked out and into his room. The irritation bubbled under his skin. With a swift motion, he yanked off his tie and tossed it aside carelessly. His jacket followed, slipping off his shoulders and falling to the floor in a crumpled heap. He didn’t bother picking it up.

As he dropped down onto the edge of the bed, his energy seemed to drain all at once.

"Don’t you like me, Anne?" His heart ached.

Ring-ring...

The sharp sound of his phone cut through the heavy silence. Augustine’s eyes shifted to the jacket he had carelessly discarded on the floor. He leaned over, picked it up, and reached into the pocket to retrieve the phone.

The screen lit up with a name he hadn’t seen in a long time — Lucien.

The moment he saw it, a wave of memories surged through him. Lucien... the man who had appeared when Augustine had nothing — no place to stay, no food, and no future. In a foreign land filled with cold nights and colder stares, Lucien had sheltered him. If it weren’t for him, Augustine wouldn’t have survived.

Back then, Lucien ran an underground street-fight club, and it was there that Augustine had learned self-defense and how to survive. The bruises, the sweat, the adrenaline — it had all shaped him into the man he was today.

Over time, Lucien had grown in power. He had inherited the mafia empire of his godfather and built it even stronger. Now, he was the king of the underworld — feared, respected, and untouchable.

Augustine stared at the screen a moment longer, thumb hovering over the answer button. With a breath, he slid his finger across the screen.

"Lucien." His voice was quiet yet steady.

A deep, familiar chuckle rumbled through the phone. "Well, look who finally picked up. I thought you were dead. No calls, no messages—have you forgotten about me already?"

Augustine rubbed a hand across his brow. "No." He exhaled heavily, letting the tension roll off his shoulders. "How could I ever forget you? I’ve just been... busy. A lot has been going on."

There was a beat of silence on the other end. And then, Lucien’s voice turned serious, laced with concern. "You good?"

Augustine hesitated, then gave a noncommittal hum.

Lucien didn’t buy it. "Don’t bullshit me. I know you. You’ve always been busy, but this... this is different. You sound like you’re carrying the whole damn world on your back. What’s eating you?"

Letting out another deep sigh, Augustine lay back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "I’ve fallen in love."

There was a stunned silence on the other end before Lucien erupted with laughter — full-throated and unrestrained. "Love? Are you screwing with me?" he howled. "You? Augustine Benett? The man who breathes strategy and bleeds steel? Since when did you know anything about love?"

"I’m not joking," Augustine grumbled, frowning as heat crept up his neck. "I’m serious. I love her."

Lucien’s laughter only grew more amused. "You, with a woman? This is rich. I still remember how you bolted every time I tried to set you up. Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft now."

His voice dropped to a teasing drawl. "If you want some thrill in your life, come over. I’ll throw you into a good fight — knock the confusion right out of you."

"Asshole," Augustine muttered under his breath. "Why don’t you believe me?"

Lucien’s laughter gradually faded, replaced by a rare seriousness in his voice. "You’re actually in love," he said, his tone filled with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "What kind of woman managed to steal the heart of the devil himself?"

"Shut up," Augustine growled, irritation bubbling under his breath.

Lucien chuckled, unfazed. "Let me guess—she left you."

"I swear, I’ll kill you."

"Alright, alright. I’m sorry," Lucien backtracked quickly, though the humor lingered in his voice. "Come on, talk to me. What’s really going on?"

Augustine drew in a slow breath. "I don’t know. She is warm and gentle one moment, then distant the next. I try to get close, but something always keeps her away. She is here, right in front of me, but I still feel like I can’t reach her. It’s like there is this invisible wall between us, and I don’t know how to break through."

He dragged a hand through his hair, frustration sharpening his tone. "You’ve been with countless women. How did you do it? How did you win them over?"

"Simple. I spoil them with gifts, take them out, talk sweet, and rock their world in bed. That’s the recipe." His voice turned smug. "Speaking of which—my current girl? She is stunning. Long legs, curves in all the right places, and a voice that drives me wild in bed. The way she moans when—"

"I don’t need a commentary on your boring sexual experiences," Augustine cut him off sharply.

Lucien laughed again. "You are missing out, man. Do you even know what pleasure feels like? Or is your dream girl keeping you in the cold?" He paused for a beat, then asked with a smirk in his voice, "Wait a minute... don’t tell me—you haven’t even slept with her yet?"

Augustine’s silence was loud. It said everything.

"Fuck, Augustine. Are you even a man? You’re in love with her and still haven’t claimed her? No wonder she is giving you mixed signals. She is probably frustrated."