Stepbrother's Lust: A Forbidden Mafia Romance

Reagan’s POV

The music still pounded through the club long after Rose disappeared from the dance floor.

I remained on the balcony, the whiskey in my hand untouched.

"Boss."

My right-hand man stopped beside me.

"They’re leaving."

I watched Rose and the girl she came with weave through the crowd toward the exit.

"...Bring her."

He hesitated just long enough for me to notice.

"Only Miss Rose?"

"Yes."

He nodded once before disappearing down the stairs.

I stayed where I was.

The rain continued tapping softly against the windows while colored lights swept across the crowd below. The whiskey burned cold in my hand.

It wasn’t helping.

Nothing was.

If anything...

Watching her laugh down there had only made the feeling worse.

A few minutes later, the office door opened.

Rose walked in first.

The guard closed the door behind her without a word.

She looked around once before fixing her eyes on me.

"What exactly is this?"

I didn’t answer.

Her gaze drifted toward the closed door.

"And who were those giant men that practically dragged me up here?"

Still nothing.

She folded her arms across her chest.

"Well?"

I simply looked at her.

She was still wearing that black dress.

Still looked exactly as she had downstairs.

The only difference was that the smile she’d worn a few minutes ago was gone.

"I was leaving anyway," she muttered.

Silence.

"...Reagan?"

I still didn’t speak.

She frowned.

"You dragged me all the way up here just to stare at me?"

Finally, I spoke.

"What were you doing downstairs?"

She blinked.

"...What?"

"What were you doing?"

She let out a short laugh.

"I was at a club."

"I can see that."

"I was dancing."

"With who?"

Her brows knitted together.

"I wasn’t dancing with anyone."

"You were surrounded."

"So?"

The single word landed harder than it should have.

She sighed.

"It’s a nightclub."

She gestured toward the floor below us.

"There are people everywhere."

"I noticed."

"I don’t understand."

"Understand what?"

She stared at me for a second before shaking her head.

"Why any of this is your business."

Normally...

That would’ve earned a smirk.

Some sarcastic remark.

Something to make her roll her eyes.

Instead...

I saw that man’s hand reaching toward her again.

Saw the way she’d been laughing, completely unaware.

Saw every pair of eyes following her across the dance floor.

"...Reagan?"

Her voice pulled me back.

"What?"

"What are you really angry about?"

I didn’t answer.

She took a slow step closer.

"If this is because I came here—"

"It isn’t."

"Then what is it?"

Silence.

She waited.

When it became obvious I wasn’t going to speak, frustration crept back into her face.

"You’re impossible."

She threw her hands into the air.

"You drag me away from my friend, refuse to explain anything, then stand there looking at me like I’ve committed a crime."

Another step.

"Seriously..."

"...Why do you even care?"

Something inside me snapped.

Both palms crashed onto the table.

The sound echoed through the room like a gunshot.

The whiskey glass tipped over, amber liquid spreading across the polished wood.

Rose gasped.

She stumbled backward so quickly that the chair behind her scraped loudly against the floor.

For a heartbeat...

Neither of us moved.

She was staring at me.

Not with annoyance.

Not with the stubborn look she usually gave me whenever we argued.

She looked...

Afraid.

The realization hit almost instantly.

Damn it.

I hadn’t meant to scare her.

"...Reagan."

Her voice had become noticeably quieter.

"What..."

She swallowed.

"...What’s wrong with you?"

I looked away first.

The rain against the windows suddenly sounded much louder than the music downstairs.

"My mood isn’t exactly the best."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"It doesn’t."

A dry laugh escaped me.

"I know."

She didn’t answer immediately.

The room fell quiet again, though this silence felt different.

Less hostile.

More uncertain.

When she finally spoke, her voice had softened.

"Then tell me why I’m here."

I took a slow breath before looking back at her.

"When did you get to the club?"

She frowned.

"About an hour ago."

"And before that?"

"I was shopping with my mom."

"So you came straight here."

"...Yeah."

I nodded once.

"You didn’t notice them."

"Them?"

"The men watching you."

She looked genuinely confused.

"There were people everywhere."

"Exactly."

She still didn’t understand.

I stepped away from the table.

"Three different men stopped what they were doing just to stare at you."

Her expression slowly changed.

"One forgot the conversation he was having."

I took another step.

"Another stood there with his drink in his hand like an idiot."

I stopped only a few feet away from her.

"And the third..."

My voice dropped.

"...got close enough to touch you."

Rose frowned.

"What?"

"He was reaching for your shoulder."

She shook her head immediately.

"No, he wasn’t."

"He was."

"I would’ve noticed."

"No."

I held her gaze.

"You were laughing."

"You were talking to your friend."

"You never even saw him."

She opened her mouth to argue...

Then stopped.

The confidence she’d walked in with faltered.

"...So..."

Her voice was quieter now.

"...You scared him away?"

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t have to.

Rose let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of her neck.

"I thought everyone just... started acting weird."

"They did."

"...Because of you."

I gave a small nod.

"They saw me."

Silence settled between us again.

She looked down at the floor for a moment before glancing back up.

"You could’ve just told me."

"I could’ve."

"Instead, you had me dragged upstairs."

"You wouldn’t have come."

She opened her mouth to argue.

Nothing came out.

A few seconds later, she sighed.

"...You’re probably right."

The corner of my mouth twitched before I could stop it.

She caught it immediately.

"There."

"What?"

"You almost smiled."

"It wasn’t a smile."

"It almost was."

I looked away.

It was.

The room grew quiet again, though the tension from before had eased. Rose studied me for a few moments before speaking.

"You’re still angry."

"I’m not."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Reagan."

"What?"

"You slammed a table hard enough to make me jump."

"I know."

"And you still look like you want to punch someone."

She wasn’t wrong.

The interrogation.

Father.

The warehouse.

Then coming here to clear my head...

Only to find Rose surrounded by strangers who couldn’t keep their eyes to themselves.

It all blended together until I couldn’t tell where one feeling ended and the next began.

Rose took a cautious step closer.

"...Your hand."

I frowned.

"My hand?"

"It’s shaking."

I looked down.

Barely.

I hadn’t even noticed.

When I looked back up, she was watching me differently now.

Not cautiously.

Not angrily.

She looked...

Concerned.

"Reagan..."

Her voice was quiet.

"What happened today?"

I held her gaze.

Said nothing.

She didn’t push.

Instead, she thought for a second before speaking again.

"It was the interrogation."

Not a question.

A statement.

"You came here because of it."

Still silence.

"I’ve seen you after difficult meetings before."

She hesitated.

"...But never like this."

The room fell quiet again.

Rain streaked across the windows behind her while the music downstairs faded into little more than background noise.

"I frightened you."

She looked surprised by the question.

"...Yeah."

Honest.

"As much as I hate admitting it..."

She gave a small laugh.

"...You really did."

I nodded once.

"I know."

She looked at me for a long moment.

"I’ve never seen you lose your temper before."

"I usually don’t."

"I noticed."

A faint smile touched her lips before disappearing again.

"You should’ve just told me."

"There wasn’t time."

"There was."

She shook her head gently.

"You just didn’t know where to start."

Those words lingered longer than they should have.

I looked away.

"...Maybe."

She smiled faintly.

"I knew it."

I frowned.

"What?"

"You admitted I was right."

"I admitted nothing."

"You practically did."

I huffed a quiet laugh.

"There."

She pointed at me.

"That one was definitely a smile."

"I think you’re imagining things."

"I don’t."

The silence that followed felt... lighter.

For the first time all night, I wasn’t thinking about the interrogation.

Or Father.

Or the blood.

Just her.

After a moment, I spoke.

"I thought..."

The words felt heavier than they should have.

"...if I’d looked away for even a second..."

I stopped.

She waited.

"...something would’ve happened."

Her expression softened immediately.

"I was okay."

"I know."

"But you didn’t."

She looked down.

"...No."

"I didn’t."

Without thinking, I reached up and tucked the loose curl that had fallen across her face behind her ear.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t pull away.

She just looked at me.

"I’m sorry."

Her eyes widened.

"...For scaring you."

For a second...

She simply stared.

Then the smallest smile appeared.

"You actually apologized."

"Don’t get used to it."

She laughed quietly.

"I’ll write today’s date down."

"So dramatic."

"Says the man who almost broke a table."

"...Fair."

Another laugh escaped her.

Hearing it made something in my chest loosen.

Just a little.

A knock interrupted the moment.

"Boss?"

My right-hand man’s voice came through the door.

"We’ve confirmed the man’s identity."

The warmth disappeared almost instantly.

Rose noticed.

Her smile faded.

"...Reagan."

I looked toward the door before turning back to her.

"Go home."

"What?"

"I’ll have someone drive you."

"What about you?"

"I’ve got something to finish."

She frowned.

"What are you talking about?"

I walked toward the door.

She followed.

"What are you going to do?"

My hand rested on the doorknob.

I didn’t turn around.

"...Teach someone the importance of keeping his eyes where they belong."

Behind me, I heard her sigh.

"Reagan..."

There was worry in her voice now.

Not fear.

Worry.

I opened the door.

Two of my men were already waiting outside.

"Take Miss Rose home."

"Yes, boss."

Rose looked like she wanted to argue.

Instead, she just looked at me.

"...Don’t do anything stupid."

A small smile found its way onto my face.

"No promises."

She rolled her eyes.

"There you are."

"What?"

"The Reagan I know."

For the first time that night...

It almost felt true.

I watched until she disappeared around the corner.

Only then did I look at my right-hand man.

"Where is he?"

He handed me a folded piece of paper.

"We’ve been watching him since he left."

I unfolded it.

An address.

A bar.

Not far from here.

I slipped the paper into my pocket.

"Let’s go."

The rain hadn’t stopped.

Good.

It would wash the blood away.

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