All Chapters of Knocked Up By My Brother’s Best Friends: Chapter 11 - Chapter 15

DARCYElias's words hung in the air, heavy, unrelenting and suffocating.Cassian ran a hand through his already messy hair, pacing, his movements were erratic and restless, like he couldn't stand still. He kept looking at me, then at the empty space where baby had been, then back at me again, like he was desperately trying to piece something together that didn't fucking fit. But he didn't worry me yet.Elias, on the other hand, was too still. Too silent. His eyes had darkened, locked onto me with something unreadable and calculating.And that scared me way more than Cassian's pacing.Because Elias Mercer didn't guess. He didn't assume, didn't throw accusations into the dark without knowing exactly what he was talking about.He found the answers. Tore them apart if he had to.And I could tell...he was already getting close. Too fucking close.The realization started to settle in way too suddenly for my liking, I could see it creeping into their expressions, into the way Cassian's frown

ELIAS Marnie disappeared back inside, leaving Cassian and me standing there, bags of baby supplies weighing heavily in our hands. We didn’t speak, and neither of us moved, we were just stood there in the same position. Because neither of us knew what the fuck to do next. Cassian was still staring at the trunk like it held all the damn answers he needed. Like if he just focused hard enough, the truth would magically spell itself out in between the formula cans and tiny clothes. His jaw clenched, his breathing uneven, the muscle in his temple ticking like it always did when he was about five seconds from losing his shit. He wouldn’t say it. Not out loud. He didn’t even have to. But I could see it written all over his face. He thought the baby was his. And was already panicking at the thought of his broke ass trying to deal with that mess. Anyways, if Cassian was thinking the baby was his because of that night, then of course, so was I. Because what were the fucking odds? Ni

ELIASThe Mercer estate was a different kind of hell.Not the loud, chaotic kind. Not the one with fire and torment. No. This hell was polished marble floors, a chandelier that cost more than most houses, and silence so thick it could suffocate you.I hadn’t lived here in almost three years. Not since I turned eighteen and convinced the board (who apparently made all the major decisions of my life) it was better for appearances if I had my own place, my own image. So I built a mansion across town. Clean, modern and completely fit to my tastes. That’s where I held the parties. That’s where I wore the crown they gave me.But this? This was the kingdom.Dinner was at seven sharp. Not 6:59. Not 7:01.Late meant disrespect. And in the Mercer house, disrespect was basically treason. And I’m not even kidding.I parked the car exactly where I always did…the lower driveway, passenger side closest to the door. The valet had long since stopped offering to park for me. He knew I preferred the con