I’ve never pretended to be the good guy.

Good men hesitate. I don’t.
When my little brother and his perfect fiancée move into my retro beachfront home in Miami, I expect an inconvenience. What I don’t expect is her. One look is all it takes to know the truth—she doesn’t belong to him.
She belongs to me.
 
Call it sibling rivalry if you want, but this isn’t jealousy. It’s hunger. Obsession. A slow, inevitable claim. She walks into my house like a lamb into a lion’s den—soft, sweet, painfully breakable—and she has no idea I’m already circling.
 
He thinks he’s the man who’ll ruin her.
He’s wrong.
 
I’ll be the one to shatter her.
And she’ll beg for it.