Lahat ng Kabanata ng Crave Me; Big Brother: Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 77

Rhysand. The café Crysta picked sits on a quiet corner of the city, outdoor tables shaded by wide umbrellas that ripple in the late-afternoon breeze of the next day. I choose a table near the edge of the exit and wait. Crysta arrives ten minutes late, sauntering up in a tight sundress that clings in all the wrong ways for a “casual” meetup, her makeup heavy even in the daylight. She slides into the chair opposite me with a smile that’s all teeth, ordering a mimosa before I can even suggest coffee. Now she’s stirring the drink lazily, her eyes roaming over me like I’m on the menu. “You know, Rhysand,” she says, leaning forward so her cleavage strains against the fabric, “I’ve met a lot of men in my life. Powerful ones. Rich ones. But you… you’ve got that edge. Like you could break something without even trying.” Her foot brushes my calf under the table and lingers. I shift away, but she just laughs softly. “Rain never mentioned how intense you are. She’s so lucky. Always

Rain. Caiden’s office is everything I expected and nothing like Rhysand’s. Where Rhysand’s building feels like a fortress with dark wood, sharp lines, cold glass walls that make you feel caged, Caiden’s is different. Sunlight pours through tall windows overlooking the river and slides over the company name mounted on the wall—Bluehorse Cyber Group. There’s a faint scent of cedar and coffee, and the space feels lived-in despite the little furniture. I’m sitting on the edge of one of the armchairs in the room, sketchpad open on my lap, pencil hovering over a half-finished mood board for his executive floor. It’s been a week since the sex in Rhysand’s car and though I haven’t said anything about his confessions and claim over me. I haven’t ignored him either. My phone buzzes in my hand and I check the text from him. ~~Thinking of you~~ I smile. My mind flashes back to the backseat of his car, and for a moment my thighs actually clench. ~~I’m busy with work, right n

Rain. I break the hug with Caiden slowly, the warmth of his arms lingering on my skin even after I step back. The apartment suddenly feels smaller, the air heavier than it was when I walked in. I glance around—nothing looks obviously different. But something is off. The atmosphere is thick, tense, like the room is holding its breath. My eyes land on Crysta. She’s half sitting on the back of the couch, arms crossed, face pale in a way that has nothing to do with her usual foundation shade being too light. Normally, when a rich man walks into her orbit, her eyes light up like slot machines, lips curving into that predatory smile she thinks is seductive. She preens. She poses. She starts calculating how much she can squeeze out of him before he figures out she’s a leech. Right now she looks… small. Cornered. Her mouth is pressed into a thin line, eyes darting between Caiden and me like she’s waiting for a bomb to go off. It’s not normal. Not even a little. I turn back to