Danton had nearly vomited right there in the hedges.

It wasn't fair.

It was grotesquely, comically unfair.

Even half-hard, it had looked obscene—thick as Delilah's wrist, ridged with veins, the flushed head already glistening with pre-cum that she had eagerly licked away like it was ambrosia. The kind of cock that didn't belong on a seventeen-year-old. The kind that should be locked away where it couldn't ruin lives.

How was any man supposed to compete with that?

How was Danton—perfect, pedigreed Danton with his respectable six-and-a-half inches and his trust fund—supposed to measure up to a weaponised battering ram like that?

And Delilah had looked at it like she'd found religion.

Had wrapped both hands around it—both hands, and still had inches left—and stroked him with reverent awe while she ground her soaked cunt against his shin like a desperate animal.

Had come just from that—just from rubbing herself off on his leg while she worshipped his cock—shuddering and sobbing his name as her orgasm tore through her.

Pleasure Danton could never give her.

Would never give her.

Because he wasn't built like that.

Because Phei was a freak.

Because the universe had decided to hand the one thing Danton wanted most in this world to the one person he hated most.

"FUCK!"

Danton's fist smashed into the steering wheel again. The horn blared into the empty parking lot like a wounded animal. He didn't care.

This was wrong.

All of it.

He should have killed Phei years ago. Should have done it personally—strangled him in his sleep... that pathetic orphan. Or paid someone competent instead of the string of useless thugs who always left the job half-finished.

But he hadn't.

And now the orphan had girls. Girls.

Sierra Montgomery and Maddie Whitmore—two untouchable princesses of Paradise—already fighting over him like bitches in heat, posting thirst-trap videos in the group chat like they were proud to be his personal cum dumpsters.

And that still wasn't enough for the greedy bastard.

No.

He had to seduce Delilah too.

Had to take the one pure, sacred thing in my life and defile it in broad daylight.

My twin.

My soul.

His future bride, if the world had any justice.

Now just another notch on Phei bedpost.

Danton laughed—a low, wet, hysterical sound that tasted like blood and despair.

Insatiable fucking monster.

The spies were useless too—utterly, comically useless. Every time Danton dispatched some overpaid shadow with a telephoto lens to tail Phei, to unearth where the bastard was nesting now, they lost him.

Poof. Vanished.

Like the orphan had a sixth sense for surveillance, like he could sniff out the watchers and melt into the crowd with that infuriating, predatory grace.

No one knew where he lived now. No one knew how he'd ballooned into this rich, untouchable enigma in a mere three weeks—No one knew a goddamn thing.

And Phei just kept collecting girls like they were limited-edition Pokémon cards, stuffing his ever-expanding harem while Danton sat here in his luxury prison of a car, lip split and bleeding, cock traitorously hard, murder simmering in his veins like fine poison.

The worst part—the absolute, gut-wrenching, ball-shrivelling worst part—was that Danton knew the script by heart now.

He'd dissected Phei's pattern like a pathologist over a cadaver. First the flirtation: those lingering looks, the casual touches that lingered too long. Then the claiming: hands under skirts, mouths devouring, girls reduced to whimpering messes begging for more.

Delilah wasn't safe.

She thought she was the hunter—like she was the one in control, grinding her hot little virgin cunt against his bulge until she soaked through his trousers. But she was deluded.

So, fucking deluded.

Phei is going to take her virginity.

Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But soon—inevitably.

The bastard has already toppled two princesses: Sierra Montgomery and Maddie Whitmore, both spreading their legs for him like eager whores.

Delilah might fancy herself immune, might believe her Legacy blood made her special, might think she could tease and withdraw without consequence.

But she couldn't.

No one could resist that freakish cock once he'd decided to wield it.

And when Phei finally chose to claim her fully—to pin her down, spread those perfect thighs, and sink that monstrous shaft into her untouched cunt, stretching her virgin hole until she screamed and sobbed and came apart around him—

Danton wouldn't be there to intervene.

He'd be too late.

Always too late.

Always skulking in the shadows like a pathetic cuckold while another man plundered what was rightfully his.

His phone buzzed.

Danton glanced down, vision tunnelling with rage.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Target just arrived at Maxton Estate. Taxi. Alone.

Ice flooded his veins.

Another message.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Your sister just pulled through the gate.

No.

No.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: All three now inside property. Should we—

Danton was already moving.

The engine roared to life like a beast unleashed. Tires screeched against asphalt as he peeled out, nearly clipping a Mercedes—fuck the paint, fuck the driver, fuck everything—because—

It was happening.

Today.

That insatiable cunt is going to take her today.

He was at the estate. Delilah was at the estate. And Phei had worn that look—the calm, coiled predator look—that said he'd orchestrated every detail down to the last thrust.

He is going to fuck her.

And he has the audacity to plan their first time in our house.

That absolute, swaggering, cock-swinging bastard is going to take Delilah's virginity, is going to spread her out on her childhood bed

—and defile her in the very room where Danton had spent countless nights listening through the wall, hand on his own aching dick, imagining it was him sliding between those pristine thighs.

Phei—orphan, upstart, walking proof that God had a vicious sense of humour—was going to be the first man to breach her.

The first to stretch that tight, untouched little cunt around his obscene, oversized cock.

The first to watch her perfect face contort in shock and pain and then helpless, humiliating pleasure as he forced every thick inch inside her, splitting her open, ruining her for anyone else.

The first to feel her virgin blood smear along his shaft as he bottomed out against her cervix, marking her as taken in the most irreversible way possible.

And he was going to do it in her own room.

In their family mansion.

Under the same roof where Danton had grown up breathing the same air as her, memorising the scent of her skin, cataloguing every sigh she made in her sleep.

Phei was going to pin his twin down on those sacred sheets, spread her legs wide, and fuck her raw—slow at first, probably, letting her feel every vein dragging along her fluttering walls, letting her sob and beg and realise how hopelessly outmatched she was.

Then harder, faster, until her proud little body betrayed her completely—until she is clawing at his back, wrapping her legs around his waist, screaming his name while her cunt spasms and squirts around the cock that had just torn her maidenhead apart.

Phei was going to deflower her—spread her open, force that obscene, vein-ridged cock into her tight virgin cunt, make her bleed and beg and break while he claimed her forever.

The speedometer climbed—eighty, ninety, a hundred—trees blurring into green streaks, other cars mere obstacles to swerve around as horns dopplered into irrelevance.

He could picture it with sickening clarity: Delilah's pale thighs trembling, slick with her own desperate arousal and the faint pink of her lost innocence; Phei's hips snapping forward with that calm, ruthless precision, balls slapping against her arse as he claimed depth after depth she'd never known existed; her perfect tits bouncing with every thrust, nipples hard and begging for a mouth that wasn't Danton's.

And when Phei finally came—when he decided she'd earned it—he'd bury himself to the hilt and flood her.

Pump her full of thick, hot ropes until it leaked out around his shaft, until her newly-opened womb was painted white with orphan seed.

Breeding her.

Stealing her forever.

Danton's vision tunnelled, red at the edges.

The gates of the estate rushed toward him.

He was going to make it.

He had to make it.

And when he did—

When he burst in and caught that bastard balls-deep in his twin—

I'll kill him.

The thought solidified, cold and crystalline and deliciously absolute.

I'll fucking kill him.

Not delegate it to incompetent thugs who'd only bruise him and let him limp away stronger. No—Danton would do it personally this time. Hands around that perfect throat, squeezing until those violet eyes bulged and dimmed forever. Until the monster stopped breathing, stopped fucking, stopped stealing what was Danton's by blood-right.

No more charity case.

No more rival.

No more watching his obsession get railed into ecstasy by a bigger cock.

Delilah is mine.

Always had been.

From the womb.

And if Phei thought he could rewrite that sacred truth—if he thought he could stroll into their home and turn my twin into just another moaning, cum-drenched conquest—

He has a very rude, very final reckoning coming.

The Maxton Estate loomed ahead, gates yawning open like a mocking mouth.

Danton floored it.

I'm coming, Delilah.

I'm coming.

And that motherfucker is going to die.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.