Stepbrother's Lust: A Forbidden Mafia Romance

Rose’s POV

"You’re getting married in two weeks?!"

My voice came out much louder than I’d intended.

Mom blinked at me.

"Yes."

"Two weeks?"

"Rose."

"No, I heard you. I’m just..." I looked between her and Devon. "Two weeks?"

Mom sighed. "Yes."

I stared at them for another second, waiting for someone to tell me this was a joke.

Nobody did.

"How long have you two been planning this?"

Mom exchanged a quick glance with Devon.

That glance alone made me suspicious.

"Mom."

"What?"

"How long?"

"A while."

"What’s a while?"

She hesitated. "A few you know.", she said with an awkward shrug.

I stared at her.

"A few what mom?"

"A few weeks"

"Weeks?"

She nodded.

"You’ve known for weeks?"

"We’ve been discussing it."

"Discussing it?" I looked between them. "You two have been discussing getting married for weeks and nobody thought to tell me?"

"We were going to tell you."

"When? After the wedding?"

Mom gave me a look.

I leaned back in my chair.

"This is unbelievable."

I glanced toward the entrance again and finally paid deeper attention to the luggage I’d noticed earlier. Several bags were already packed, with staff moving the last few pieces toward the door but some luggage looked too familiar to just be Reagan’s or Devon’s.

"So we’re actually leaving today?"

Mom nodded.

"The staff will take everything over."

"Everything?"

"Most things."

I stared at her.

"Mom, I haven’t packed anything."

"That’s why I told you to pack."

"You told me five minutes ago."

"And?"

I blinked.

"And you expect me to be ready today?"

She shrugged lightly before giving me a warm smile. "Come Rosey, you know you can. Just pretend this is one of those trips you used to be so excited about. My toothless little six year old."

"Mum!."

My cheeks warmed as i sneakily glanced over at Reagan.

She smiled into her coffee.

I dropped my head into my hands.

This was insane.

I lifted my head again and, without meaning to, looked toward Reagan.

He was calmly finishing his coffee, completely unaffected by the conversation.

Of course he was.

His father was getting married in two weeks. We were moving into his house. And he looked like he was having an ordinary morning.

He caught me looking and our eyes met.

I immediately looked away.

Right.

That was another problem.

Last night.

The kiss.

The almost-kiss.

His fingers brushing my cheek.

The way I’d stood there and actually waited for him to kiss me again.

My face warmed.

I reached for my glass.

No.

Not now.

I was not thinking about that at breakfast.

"Rose."

I looked up.

Mom was watching me.

"You’re still coming with me."

"I know."

"You don’t sound very excited."

"Ah..."

"It’ll come to me."

I wasn’t expecting her to get upset by my reply but i wasn’t also expecting her to be so calm about it. I mean I’m supposed to be excited because weddings are a big deal but she didn’t seem offended with my reply. That somehow made me feel bad.

She smiled. "You might actually like it there."

She looked to devon before continuing. And if you don’t, you can pick any house you like and you’ll have the keys within a day.

I paused then processed her words. Wait? My own house!!

"Mum i don’t think I’ll like it there, you know too stuffy"

"It’s not"

I looked over to Reagan, did he just?

"Oh i bet it is", i said answering him while looking at him hoping he’d get the double meaning.

Prick

Mum just smiled at the exchange like the scene was something she’d want to see everyday.

Never

She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

"It’ll be nice having you there."

I looked at her for a moment.

That part actually made me smile.

"Yeah."

She squeezed my hand once more before letting go.

Then she stood.

"Come upstairs with me after breakfast. We’ll start sorting your things."

"Already?"

"Do you intend to start packing at night dear?."

"I didn’t know it’d be immediately."

"Well, immediately it is."

I sighed.

"Fine."

She smiled and sat back down.

I looked at my plate.

So this was happening.

We were leaving.

For some reason, the thought didn’t sit right with me.

I’d spent years in this house. My room. The familiar halls. The staff. Mom’s routines. Everything was here. And dad...

After breakfast, Mom dragged me upstairs to start packing.

I opened my wardrobe and stared at it.

"So where do I even start?"

"Clothes."

I looked at her.

"Very helpful."

She flicked my nose.

We spent the next hour sorting through clothes, shoes, books, and things I’d apparently been keeping for no reason. Every few minutes she’d hold something up and ask whether I still wanted it.

"Keep."

"Rose, you haven’t worn this in two years."

"That doesn’t mean I won’t."

"You said the same about this", She said pointing to a pair of high black boots with silver spikes.

"And I meant it. Sierra got this for me and we plan on using our matching pairs... Someday. Plus it’d be rude to throw a gift away"

She shook her head and tossed it into the box.

I laughed under my breath.

"Thanks.."

"Such interesting taste i might add. Sierra sure is a bold one."

"That’s not true."

She raised an eyebrow.

I looked at the growing pile beside me.

"Okay. Maybe a little."

She smiled and went back to folding.

For a while, it was almost normal.

Just Mom and me, going through my things and arguing over what I needed and what I absolutely did not.

Then I pulled an old photograph from the back of a drawer.

I stopped.

It was an old picture of the family, my old family. Mom, Dad, and Me.

Mom noticed.

"What is it?"

"It’s nothing"

A part of me wanted to show her, maybe if she looked at it she’d remember father, maybe she’d rethink everything but my feelings aside, showing her wouldn’t be right, she’s already getting married.

"Rosey?, show me "

And i did.

I didn’t know what to expect but i didn’t expect her to smile. Then she pointed at me in the photo.

I couldn’t have been more than twelve.

Mom laughed softly.

"Look at your hair."

I frowned.

"My hair was cute."

"It was enormous."

"Mom."

She laughed again.

I smiled despite myself.

Then I put the photograph carefully into the box.

"I’ll keep this."

"Sure dear."

A few minutes later, Mom left to check on the movers.

I stayed behind, sitting on the edge of my bed.

My room already looked different.

Boxes were stacked against the wall. Half of my wardrobe was empty. A few things I’d had in the same place for years were gone.

I looked around.

My chest tightened.

I frowned.

Why?

I’d still have a room. Mom would be there. It wasn’t like I was leaving forever.

So why did it feel like something was ending?

I shook my head.

"You’re being dramatic."

I stood and grabbed another pile of clothes.

Mom appeared at the doorway a few minutes later.

"Rose."

I looked up.

"Yeah?"

She leaned against the doorframe.

"You alright?"

"I’m fine."

She gave me a look.

I sighed.

"I’m just... processing."

"The move?"

"The move. The wedding. Everything."

She nodded in understanding and left.

By late afternoon, most of my things had already been moved.

The house felt strangely empty.

Not actually empty. There were still staff everywhere, people carrying boxes and moving furniture around, but my usual things were disappearing one by one.

I carried a small box downstairs and nearly walked straight into someone.

I stopped.

Reagan.

He stood in the hallway with his sleeves rolled up, a folder tucked under one arm.

His eyes dropped to the box in my hands.

"Give me that."

"I can carry it."

"Don’t think I’m helping. Your hands are shaking"

"Huh? That IS the definition of help isn’t it?"

He took it anyway.

Then he kept walking.

I followed.

"You seem pretty comfortable with all this."

He looked over his shoulder. "With what?"

"The moving."

"It’s happening."

"That’s all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say?"

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came to me.

He waited.

I folded my arms.

"Nothing."

His eyebrow lifted slightly.

"Then we’re in agreement."

He turned and continued walking.

I followed, already irritated.

"You’ve been acting strangely calm since this morning."

"Mmn."

"Is that a problem?"

"No."

I paused.

"Maybe."

He stopped and looked at me.

"What?"

"Nothing."

His eyes stayed on me for a moment.

That quiet amusement appeared again.

Then he looked away.

"You’re still thinking about last night."

My heart nearly jumped into my throat.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I wasn’t."

"Whatever floats your boat."

"I was thinking about moving."

"Of course."

The way he said it made it painfully obvious that he didn’t believe me.

I glared at him.

"You’re annoying."

"Not your hundredth time saying it."

He started walking again.

I stayed where I was for a second.

"Reagan."

He stopped.

"What?"

I almost asked him.

What last night meant.

Whether he regretted kissing me.

Whether he’d actually been waiting for me to stop him.

Whether he’d been as affected by it as I was.

Instead, I swallowed all of it.

"Nothing."

He looked at me for another second.

Then he turned and disappeared around the corner.

I stood there for a moment.

Something about that conversation bothered me.

Maybe it was the way he’d said it.

He hadn’t asked whether I was thinking about last night.

He’d known.

I shook the thought away and continued downstairs.

The moment I entered the foyer, I saw another group of boxes being carried through the doors.

One of the staff members nodded at me.

"Your room is almost cleared, Miss Rose."

"Already?"

"Yes."

I looked toward the staircase.

My room.

Almost cleared.

The words felt strange.

I hadn’t realized how much I’d gotten used to having everything exactly where it belonged until it started disappearing.

I walked toward the entrance and watched another box being loaded into the car.

Then I looked back at the house.

For a moment, I wondered what it would feel like when I came back here and it wasn’t really home anymore.

I didn’t like the thought.

I turned away.

This was ridiculous.

It was just a house.

I’d be fine.

I picked up another box and started toward the door.

Then I stopped.

My eyes drifted toward the hallway where Reagan had disappeared earlier.

Living with him was going to be different.

Before, I could walk away whenever things became too complicated.

Now?

I’d have to see him at breakfast.

In the hallways.

Around the house.

Every day.

And after what happened last night, I had no idea how I was supposed to act around him.

I exhaled slowly.

"Great."

I adjusted the box in my arms.

"This is going to be a disaster."

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!