Page 53 of Jealous Stepbrother
Victor doesn’t let it last.
“So,” he says, folding his paper with the kind of precision that makes me sit up straighter. His eyes pin me in place. “This internship. How long is it for?”
Heat crawls up my neck. I cut my croissant in half, pretending I need the distraction. “All summer.”
Victor’s gaze slides to him. “I hope you’re not letting your stepbrother keep you up all night with his demands. He can be a hard taskmaster when there’s no one around to check him.”
I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
A low sound comes from Asher’s side of the table, something between a laugh and a scoff. “Don’t worry, Dad. Scarlett knows how to handle me.” He bites into a croissant with relish and I want to die.
Victor’s brow lifts, knife poised over his butter plate. “Does she now? That makes one of us.” His voice is mild but sharp enough to cut.
The line lands like a dart, sharp enough that I nearly choke on my coffee. “Can you stop talking about me like I’m not sitting right here, please?”
Victor grimaces. “Sorry, sweetheart. But as you can imagine, being in the dark has thrown your mother and me for a loop. That incident in the park?—”
“Was nothing. Please, let’s move on,” I say forcibly.
Mom clears her throat, trying to redirect. “And where are you staying now, honey? You said you’d moved but you never said?—”
Asher answers before I can. Again. Of course he ignores the glare I shoot him. “I’ve already found her a place. In my building.”
Annette blinks, a flicker of hurt crossing her face before she smooths it away. “Oh. Well…it would’ve been good to know but…thank you, Asher. I never liked her old neighborhood. And I never understood why you wouldn’t stay in our apartment.” She reaches over to squeeze my hand, relief softening her smile.
Victor isn’t softened. “That’s generous. Very generous.” His stare sharpens. “But I’d like to know exactly what her arrangement is.”
My knife scrapes too hard against the plate, and I almost drop it.
Asher leans back in his chair, tone calm but edged steel. “Her arrangement is none of your concern. You don’t need to worry about her.”
“I think I do,” Victor replies, voice low now, almost dangerous. “Maybe you and I need to talk.”
“Maybe. Later,” Asher says flatly, final.
The silence that follows is deafening.
I push my plate away, pulse hammering in my ears. “I’m going to the beach,” I blurt. “Need some air.”
Before anyone can respond or stall me, I hurry away.
Every step feels like proof of my own guilt.
Last night I didn’t just toe the line. I stepped over it, barefoot, trembling and screaming, into a place I shouldn’t have gone. The way he touched me, the way I let him.
If Mom ever knew, she’d look at me like I was someone she didn’t recognize, someone she couldn’t possibly still love.
The worst part? When I ask myself if I’d undo it, if I’d shove Asher back and slam the door in his face… I can’t find the heart to lie.
I wouldn’t.
I change into my black bikini, the one I keep swearing I’m going to get rid of because it’s too small in all the wrong places. My cover-up barely reaches my thighs. I tell myself it’s fine because it’s just family.
Exceptforbiddenfamily is exactly what’s leaning against the patio door when I step outside, sunglasses pushed down just enough to reveal piercing, heated eyes.
“Want some company, princess?” Asher asks.
I keep moving, brushing past him toward the path that winds down to the sand. “No, thank you.”
