Stepbrother's Lust: A Forbidden Mafia Romance

Rose’s POV

The next few days passed more quietly than I’d expected.

I’d finally finished unpacking most of my things, although there were still two boxes sitting in the corner of my room that I’d decided were future-Rose’s problem. I’d discovered that unpacking was one of those things that sounded easy until you actually had to do it. Clothes, books, shoes, random decorations I’d forgotten I owned, and somehow three boxes full of things I’d apparently decided were too important to throw away but not important enough to remember existed.

At least my room finally looked like mine.

The porcelain cat I’d found while unpacking was sitting on my dresser, my books were back on the shelf, and I’d moved the little lamp from my old room onto the nightstand beside my bed.

It wasn’t the same.

But it wasn’t completely unfamiliar anymore either.

I headed downstairs one morning and found Mom sitting at the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in front of her.

She looked up when she heard me.

"You’re finally awake."

I glanced at the clock. "It’s eleven."

"Exactly."

"That’s still morning."

She laughed. "Only you would say that."

I grabbed a glass of water and leaned against the counter. "What’s happening today?"

"Nothing too exciting. I have a meeting with the florist later, and I need to go through some of the invitations."

"Of course you do."

She gave me a look. "Don’t sound so disappointed."

"I’m not disappointed. I’m just amazed. This wedding has turned into a full time job for you."

"The wedding is in a few weeks, Rose. There are a lot of things to organize."

"I guess so."

She studied me for a moment before smiling. "You’ve been quieter lately."

I shrugged. "Have I?"

"Yes. You’re usually complaining about something by now."

"Maybe I’ve matured."

She almost choked on her coffee.

"It’s not funny!."

"I’m sorry." She covered her mouth, trying not to smile. "Mature ladies shouldn’t whine."

I rolled my eyes. "Forget I said anything."

She went back to her coffee, and I drank my water while looking around the kitchen.

It was strange how quickly things were starting to feel normal.

A week ago, I’d been convinced this house would always feel like somewhere I’d been dropped off rather than somewhere I belonged.

Now I knew which cupboard held the glasses, which staircase was closest to my room and which floorboard in the hallway creaked loudly enough to announce anyone walking over it.

I’d even gotten used to seeing Reagan around.

Not that I’d started liking him.

That would be ridiculous.

We’d simply developed a routine.

He’d make some irritating comment, I’d tell him to shut up, he’d give me that annoying little smirk, and we’d go our separate ways.

It wasn’t friendship.

It wasn’t exactly hostility either.

It was just... us.

Mom stood and picked up her cup.

"I’m going to finish getting ready. Oh, and don’t disappear today."

"Why?"

"Because I need your opinion on something."

"I have no experience with weddings mom."

She laughed. "Well obviously, but you’ll do fine"

"I make no promises."

She walked away, leaving me alone in the kitchen.

I wandered into the living room a little later and dropped onto the sofa with my phone. I had barely gotten comfortable when Mom joined me with a stack of invitation samples.

"Help me."

I looked at the cards in her hands. "Again?"

"Yes, again."

"Didn’t we already choose one?"

"We chose the design. Now I’m deciding between the paper and the lettering."

I stared at her. "You realize most people aren’t going to care about the paper, right?"

"I care."

"That’s because you’re getting married."

"Exactly.", Now tell me.

She handed me two samples.

"Which one?"

I compared them for a few seconds.

"The second."

"Why?"

"The first looks like something a company would send when they want to tell me I’ve won a luxury vacation I definitely didn’t win."

She laughed.

"You still have that sharp tongue... But that’s a fair observation."

"And the second one is prettier."

"That’s what I thought too."

"Then why did you ask me?"

"Because I wanted confirmation.", She said as She nudged my shoulder.

For a few minutes, we sat there talking about nothing important. She complained about the florist being late. I complained about having to choose an outfit for the wedding. She reminded me that I’d promised to help her with the seating arrangements, and I immediately claimed I’d never made such a promise.

It was normal.

Comfortable.

Then the front door opened.

I barely looked up at first.

Devon walked inside.

Something about him made me stop.

He wasn’t smiling.

He barely acknowledged the staff as he handed his jacket to one of them, and instead of heading toward Mom like he usually did, his eyes moved across the room as if he were looking for someone.

Then he saw me.

"Where’s Reagan?"

I blinked. "Upstairs, I think."

He nodded. "Thanks."

He started toward the staircase.

I watched him for a moment before looking at Mom.

"Did something happen?"

She frowned. "Why?"

"Devon looks serious."

She glanced toward him.

Before she could answer, footsteps sounded above us.

Reagan appeared at the top of the stairs.

He stopped when he saw Devon.

For a second, neither of them spoke.

Then Devon looked up at him.

"Reagan, come with me."

Reagan frowned. "Where?"

"Upstairs."

"Why?"

"We need to talk."

Reagan looked at him for a moment longer before attempting to turn away, "Maybe later"

Devon’s expression tightened.

"Now"

Something about those three words made me sit up straighter.

Reagan seemed to notice it too.

He glanced at Mom, then at me, before walking down the remaining steps.

"Fine."

Devon turned and headed back upstairs.

Reagan followed him.

I watched until they disappeared.

Then I slowly looked at Mom.

"What was that?"

She picked up one of the invitations as though she’d suddenly become extremely interested in it.

"What was what?"

She stayed quiet as if debating if to tell me or not before she finally sighed and said, "It’s probably business."

"Probably?"

She looked at me.

"Rose, Devon has a lot of things going on. Sometimes he needs to discuss them privately."

"I know, but he looked like something was wrong."

"Maybe something is."

I stared at her.

She immediately smiled.

"But that doesn’t mean it’s something you need to worry about. It’s nothing they can’t fix."

"That’s not very reassuring."

She laughed softly and shook her head.

"Just leave them alone, okay?"

I leaned back against the sofa. "Fine."

I lasted approximately ten minutes.

I tried scrolling through my phone, but I kept glancing toward the staircase.

Nothing.

No voices.

No footsteps.

Just silence.

Mom eventually gathered the invitation samples.

"I’m going to check on the florist."

"Okay."

She started walking away.

"Mom."

She stopped and looked back.

"Is everything actually okay?"

She studied me for a moment before just only nodding.

She continued before I could ask anything else.

"But if something is wrong, Devon will handle it. So don’t sit here worrying yourself sick over something you don’t even understand."

I nodded slowly.

"Okay."

She smiled and walked away.

I stared at the staircase again.

I knew I should leave it alone.

I really did.

Unfortunately, curiosity had always been one of my worst qualities.

I got up and walked toward the stairs.

I wasn’t going to snoop.

I was just going upstairs.

There was a difference.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

I climbed a few steps before I could hear voices above me.

Devon’s voice.

Then Reagan’s.

I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

I stopped.

Maybe I should go back.

I took another step instead.

Still nothing.

I frowned and moved a little higher.

The voices suddenly stopped.

I froze.

My heart jumped.

Had they heard me?

I stood there for a few seconds, waiting.

Nothing happened.

I quietly turned around and walked back downstairs.

I wasn’t snooping.

I was definitely not snooping.

Neither was i worried. What’s my business? Nothing. I don’t care what happens to Devon or Rea-

Yh... I don’t care.

I returned to the sofa and picked up my phone just as Reagan came downstairs.

He looked completely normal.

Which somehow made me suspicious.

He walked past me.

"Hey."

He stopped and looked at me. "Hey."

I studied him.

He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing."

"If you have nothing to say then I’ll be taking my leave."

I was definitely not worried about you or anything but assuming i was then i take it all back you wet naked molerat

"Must a reasonable percent of the things that come out of your mouth venom"

He didn’t answer but instead looked at me with a look that promised something if i kept on.

My skin prickled as my mind took me on a little detour to the time i tried offering aid after accidentally injuring him. It was the same cold stare.

"Reagan?", I called voice weary.

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