Part 10: The Crown is Yours
Mia spent most of the day in silence.
She unpacked her things in the guest room without speaking to either of them. She made herself tea but didn't ask if anyone else wanted any. Her movements were polite, clean — but distant. And measured.
Aaron felt her watching.
Not just him — them.
She'd sit on the couch while Eli crossed the room in his soft robe, still bare beneath. She'd glance once. Then twice. But never said a word. Not even when Eli bent over the coffee table, reaching far too slowly for a book.
Aaron didn't stop him.
He watched too.
That, Mia noticed.
That evening, she cornered Aaron in the garage.
He was loading weights, bare arms glistening with sweat. He looked primal, strong, full of tension.
"You need to stop," Mia said quietly.
Aaron didn't turn. "Stop what?"
"You know what."
Aaron stared at the barbell like it had betrayed him.
Mia stepped closer. "He's not innocent."
"I never said he was."
"You're going to ruin him."
Aaron turned finally, voice low and dark. "He was never yours to protect."
Mia's breath caught. "But he was mine to love."
Aaron stared at her.
And in that moment, his silence spoke everything.
She stepped back.
She had lost.
Upstairs, Eli sat cross-legged on Aaron's bed.
The robe was gone. He wore nothing but a soft black shirt that hung low on one shoulder, exposing the slope of his collarbone. His legs were bare, his expression unreadable.
"You fought with her," he said when Aaron entered.
"She confronted me."
Eli tilted his head. "And?"
Aaron shut the door. Locked it.
"She still thinks she can win."
Eli smiled, slow and secretive.
"She doesn't understand, does she?"
Aaron crossed the room in three steps, hands gripping Eli's face.
"I don't want to belong to anyone else."
Eli's lips parted. "Then prove it."
Aaron kissed him hard.
But this time — this time — it wasn't lust.
It was submission.
Later that night, Mia heard them again.
Not loud. Not careless. But constant.
The floor above her creaked. The rhythm unmistakable. A muffled moan. A soft, breathy laugh — Eli's voice, light and haunting.
She pulled the pillow over her head.
But it didn't silence the truth.
She didn't just lose her boyfriend.
She lost her brother.
The next morning, Eli came down dressed in one of Aaron's oversized sweatshirts, sleeves dangling past his fingertips. He looked younger like that — smaller, more fragile.
Mia sat at the table.
He poured her coffee.
"I'm not trying to hurt you," he said softly.
Mia didn't answer.
"I didn't plan it," he added.
Mia looked at him — really looked.
"You knew exactly what you were doing."
Eli smiled faintly. "Does it matter now?"
Aaron entered the kitchen, shirtless, sleepy-eyed, and kissed Eli's cheek from behind.
He didn't even look at Mia.
And Eli didn't flinch.
That afternoon, Aaron found a box on his bed.
Mia had packed the rest of her things.
There was no note.
Just the sound of the front door shutting.
He stood there, staring at the box.
Eli walked in behind him, towel around his neck, fresh from the shower.
"She's gone," Aaron said.
"I know," Eli whispered.
Aaron turned.
Eli stepped forward — hands on Aaron's chest — and kissed him slowly.
Soft. Final.
Then he whispered against his lips:
"So now you're really mine."
And Aaron, who had fought wars in silence…
Finally surrendered.
[To Be Continued — In Part 11: With Mia gone, the house becomes a palace of desire. Eli now moves freely, with full claim. But the outside world starts creeping in — questions from coworkers, neighbors, suspicion. And Aaron begins to protect Eli in ways darker than either expected.]