CHAPTER 926: CHAPTER 926: BROTHER LOVES LEAH THE MOST

Justin Xavier opened Leah Thorne’s social media page and found a recent photo she posted.

She didn’t show her face in the photo. That day, she bought a pair of beautiful crystal high heels, with thin and high heels. She was sitting on a burgundy sofa, her beautiful legs in the picture.

She didn’t use any beauty filters, just the original camera lens. Her calves appeared slim and white, with a silky, smooth gloss just at a glance.

She wore those crystal high heels, displaying an indescribable elegance.

Justin Xavier’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, his eyes already tinged with a red hue, and he raised his hand to cover them slightly.

He didn’t know how many times he had done this, lurking like a pervert in the shadows, viewing each of her photos hundreds of times.

Strangely, even though she was extraordinarily beautiful and he had watched her for so many years, he never felt it was enough.

Every time he looked, he still felt his heart flutter.

Gently moving his bloodshot eyelids, Justin closed his eyes, unable to recall when he first had those sordid thoughts about her.

All he remembered was one year when she was still young, and there was a thunderstorm outside.

That night, he lay in his own bed, and suddenly, the door opened, and a corner of his silk blanket was lifted. A small, soft body crawled into his arms, holding him tight. "Brother, it’s thundering outside, and it’s raining. I’m all alone, and I’m scared."

The day her dad and mom had a car accident was also just such a thunderstorm, leaving her with a psychological shadow and making her afraid of sleeping alone ever since.

At that time, he was already an adult but had never had a girlfriend. She was the first girl to climb into his bed, nestling under his blanket...

He looked down at her in his arms, this carefully protected flower of the high-status Thorne family. Every inch of her skin was like porcelain jade, her body soft beyond measure, and her hair embracing his handsome face was fragrant.

Her small, beautiful face showed fearful trepidation, burrowing continuously into his embrace. "Brother, can I sleep with you tonight?"

Could he refuse?

He couldn’t.

But he couldn’t fall asleep that night, his body temperature climbing relentlessly until it burned.

He looked down once more at the girl in his arms, "Leah, would you mind loosening your grip on brother, moving a bit away?"

At that time, she had suffered a family tragedy and came to the Xavier family, with little sense of security. In this thunderstorm, her small hands clung tightly to his already mature waist, holding him very tightly, yet even so, she couldn’t fall asleep.

Thus, when he spoke, she froze, then lifted a pair of moist eyes to gaze at him, showing a mixture of shock and hurt. "Brother, do you... not like Leah anymore?"

After saying this, she quickly released him, moved her small body to the side, and turned her back to him.

Looking at her small figure, she seemed so pitiful, like a wounded little beast curling up to lick her wounds.

Ignoring his own discomfort, he turned to coax her softly at her ear, "How could that be? Brother likes Leah the most."

Such a little girl was easy to soothe; she smiled instantly, even turning around to hug him again, her little beautiful face buried in his arms, softly and timidly saying, "Brother, Leah likes you the most too."

She quickly fell asleep.

He got up and went to the bathroom, unsure how many cold showers he took that night.

Two years later, one day he returned home and heard his mother Laura Xavier and the housemaid speaking from afar.

His mother didn’t like Leah Thorne, speaking harshly, "Leah is growing up. Have you seen her figure? Just a teenage girl and already her chest is so full. Who knows how big it’ll get when she grows up? She’s a born vixen like her mother, surely she’ll love seducing men!"

The maid replied, "Ma’am, should we prepare a little vest for her?"

Teenage girls wore vests, but Leah had lost her mother and didn’t have anyone to tell her this.

"No need. I heard Leah is now the school belle, boys crowd around to ogle her after school. Let her give those men a good look!"

That day, he stopped outside the villa, not going in, then drove to Leah’s school to pick her up after school.

The luxury car parked by the roadside, just in time for school to let out. He glanced up through the polished window to see many students walking out of the school. Soon, among the bustling crowd, he spotted Leah Thorne at a glance.

She wore her school uniform and a high ponytail, looking no different from other schoolgirls, yet she was distinctly different. The oversized school uniform couldn’t conceal her well-developed figure, and in the silent luxury of the car cabin, he allowed his gaze to wander over her.

She carried a backpack that he had brought her from abroad, a luxury brand, her high ponytail revealing a delicate face the size of a palm, and her increasingly blooming appearance was like a tender red rose, attracting frequent glances from the boys around her.

In that moment, he felt his mother was not wrong. Her chest was already full and her hips were firm. She had become a soft, alluring siren, attracting far too much attention, who knew how many men she would captivate in the future.

Soon, she spotted his car and ran over happily like a little sparrow.

She got into the passenger seat and buckled up. "Brother, why are you here?"

His big hand rested on the steering wheel, driving without glancing aside, "I’m here to pick you up."

"Brother, I have something for you." In her small hand was a handmade string of blue flowers with a bell, perfect for hanging in the car as decoration, exquisite and pretty.

He glanced at it, a barely-there smile emerging at the corner of his lips, "Where did it come from? Was it a gift from one of those male classmates?"

She paused, clearly not expecting him to say that.

He turned to look at her, her fair goose-egg face right in front of him, her long black hair and red lips. The clash of colors somehow stirred something within him, his throat rolling carelessly, "What, am I wrong? Surely many boys have given you gifts, right? When you accepted their gifts, what did you give them? Did you hold hands with them, or... did you let them kiss you?"

He wasn’t speaking nonsense. This is just how reality works; relationships between men and women could plainly be boiled down to transactions. But his words were truly hard to hear, as sharp and mean as his mother’s, deeply ingrained with pettiness and bitterness.

She was likely frightened, her little face flushed and pale, and soon her watery eyes turned red. Gripping the string of flowers tightly, she bit her lower lip, "I didn’t... Brother, I don’t want to give it to you anymore, stop the car. I want to get out!"