Ryan's thumb hovered over the send button for only a second before he tapped it.
The message went through instantly.
A short video clip of Emily moaning on her back, legs wrapped around his waist, followed by a burst of high-resolution photos — Emily on her knees, Emily bent over her own bed, Emily's face lost in pleasure as Ryan fucked her deep. The final text was simple and vicious:
**"Return gift to you Ethan my friend 😉"**
Ryan leaned back on his couch, Ava's head resting in his lap, her fingers lazily stroking his cock through his pants. He smiled. For the first time in a long while, he felt completely in control.
---
Across the street, Ethan was in the middle of a ranked game, headset on, fingers flying across the keyboard. His phone buzzed on the desk. Once. Twice. Then a flood of notifications.
He glanced at the screen, annoyed. The name "Ryan Bennett" popped up.
He opened the messages.
The first thing he saw was the video thumbnail — his little sister Emily, naked, legs spread, Ryan's cock buried inside her. Emily's face was flushed, mouth open in a moan.
Ethan froze.
His character died on screen. The game chat exploded with rage from his teammates. He didn't even notice.
He clicked the video. Sound on. Emily's voice filled his headphones — real, unmistakable, breathless moans. "You better do it good…"
Ethan's hands started shaking.
He stood up so fast his chair rolled backward and crashed into the wall. His mind screamed that it had to be fake, deepfake, edited — anything but real. But the angle, the lighting, the familiar posters on Emily's bedroom wall… it was all real.
He stormed out of his room and marched straight to Emily's door. The moment he opened it, the smell hit him like a punch — thick, unmistakable scent of sweat and fresh sex still hanging in the air. Her bed was messy. The sheets were rumpled. A faint wet spot was visible near the edge.
Ethan's stomach twisted.
He slammed the door and went back to his room. Pure rage took over. He grabbed his gaming PC tower with both hands and smashed it against the floor. The glass side panel shattered. He stomped on the graphics card, then the monitor, then the keyboard. Plastic and metal cracked under his shoes.
He texted ryan "how dare you lay your hands on my sister?"
His phone buzzed again. A new message from Ryan.
Ethan opened it with trembling fingers.
**Ryan:** "I didn't just lay my hand on her I also lay my dick on her too, haha, more like in her. Well it's not like she didn't want that…. She wanted it more than me… Your sister do look very innocent from outside but she is wild one on the inside"
Ethan let out a guttural yell and hurled his phone across the room. It bounced off the wall but didn't break. He grabbed a lamp and smashed it, then kicked over his desk, sending papers and energy drink cans flying.
He was breathing hard, chest heaving, when he stormed back to Emily's room a second time.
Emily had just stepped out of the shower. She was wrapped in a towel, drying her long dark hair with another. Water droplets still glistened on her shoulders. She looked calm — almost peaceful — until she saw her brother's face.
"What have you done, Emily?" Ethan's voice was low and dangerous. "Have you no shame left in you?"
Emily stopped drying her hair. She looked at him coldly.
"Look who's talking," she said quietly. "A perverted man who likes to peek on other people's wives."
Ethan's eyes widened. "What? I did what I did, but why the hell did you have to get involved? It was between me and Ryan… and his wife. It's not like I forced anyone—"
Emily cut him off with a bitter laugh. "What are you even talking about? Ugh… never mind. I don't want to talk to you. Now leave me alone."
Ethan stepped closer, voice rising. "Is that so? Do you want me to tell Mom and Dad about this?"
Emily's eyes flashed with anger. She stepped right up to him, towel still clutched around her body.
"Look at you… still the same. Your tricks won't work on me anymore. Go ahead. Do what you want. It's not like I don't have anything to tell them about you too."
She shoved him hard in the chest with both hands.
"I will do what I want and whenever I want. You can't control me."
Ethan stumbled backward. Before he could say another word, Emily slammed the door in his face. The lock clicked loudly.
Ethan stood there in the hallway, stunned. He kicked the wall hard, pain shooting up his leg. "Fuck… why is she like that?"
His phone buzzed again on the floor of his destroyed room. He limped over and picked it up.
One new message from Ryan.
**Ryan:** "We are even now. Don't touch my wife and I won't touch Emily."
Ethan stared at the screen for a long time. His knuckles turned white around the phone. Finally, with shaking fingers, he typed back a single word:
**"Fine."**
He dropped the phone onto the wreckage of his desk and slid down the wall, sitting among the broken pieces of his life.
The house was silent except for the faint sound of Emily's hairdryer starting up again behind her closed door.
**To be continued…**
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