Stepbrother's Lust: A Forbidden Mafia Romance

Reagan’s POV

The handle moved.

I stopped breathing for a second.

I’d been standing outside Rose’s door long enough that I was starting to wonder whether she had actually heard me at all. I’d knocked until my knuckles hurt, called her name more times than I could count, and gotten nothing in return.

Now the lock clicked.

I straightened without thinking.

The door opened slowly.

Rose stood on the other side.

For a moment, I didn’t say anything.

Neither did she.

I had expected to see her upset. Maybe angry. Maybe even ready to tell me to leave.

I hadn’t expected this.

Her hair was messy, falling loosely around her face. Her eyes were swollen, and there were faint tear tracks still visible on her cheeks. She looked exhausted, like she’d barely slept. Her clothes were wrinkled, and the sight of her standing there made something uncomfortable settle in my chest.

I’d seen Rose angry before.

I’d seen her annoyed, embarrassed, stubborn, even scared.

This was different.

She looked drained.

I stared at her for another second before her eyes dropped.

"Rose..."

My voice came out quieter than I’d intended.

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

I could see enough.

My eyes moved past her shoulder and into the room.

The curtains were closed. The lights were off. There were clothes lying around, food sitting untouched on a nearby table, and the bed looked like she’d barely left it.

I looked back at her.

"When did you last eat?"

Nothing.

She simply stood there.

I didn’t repeat the question.

For some reason, asking again felt wrong.

I had spent most of my life getting answers by asking questions until people gave in. Sometimes I didn’t even have to ask twice.

But standing in front of Rose, I suddenly knew that wouldn’t work.

She wasn’t refusing to answer because she didn’t understand me.

She was refusing because she didn’t want to.

And I couldn’t force that out of her.

She stepped aside.

It was barely noticeable, but I understood.

She was letting me in.

I walked past her slowly.

She turned away from me almost immediately and went back toward the bed.

I closed the door behind me.

The room became quiet again.

I looked around once more.

I hadn’t been inside her room often. Not properly. I’d passed through the hallway plenty of times, but I’d never paid much attention to what her space looked like.

Now I noticed everything.

The curtains.

The clothes.

The half-empty bottle of water.

The untouched food.

The room didn’t look lived in.

It looked abandoned.

Except Rose was standing in the middle of it.

I didn’t like the feeling that gave me.

She sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at her hands.

I remained near the door.

For a few seconds, neither of us moved.

I could’ve walked toward her.

I didn’t.

Something told me that getting too close right now would only make things worse.

So I stayed where I was.

"Your mother told me you’ve barely eaten."

Rose’s fingers tightened slightly.

That was the only reaction I got.

I looked at her.

"She said you’ve been in here for three days."

Still nothing.

I let out a quiet breath.

Three days.

I’d been so occupied with everything happening around us that I hadn’t even realized.

The threats.

The man we’d taken.

My father’s reaction.

The people watching my family.

I’d spent every waking moment trying to figure out what was happening outside the estate.

Meanwhile, Rose had been here.

Alone.

For three days.

I looked toward the food.

"Is that all you’ve eaten?"

Her eyes flicked toward it briefly before dropping again.

I didn’t need an answer.

I knew.

I rubbed a hand over my jaw.

I didn’t know what to say.

That was unusual.

I was rarely at a loss for words.

Even when I didn’t know the answer to something, I usually knew what I wanted to say.

With Rose, I wasn’t sure.

I thought about the last few days.

I’d walked away from her.

I’d let things between us remain unresolved.

I’d acted like everything was normal.

Maybe to me, it had been easier to pretend nothing had happened.

But I knew it hadn’t been nothing to her.

I’d kissed her without asking.

Twice.

I’d surprised her, crossed a line, and then acted as though the subject didn’t deserve another thought.

I hadn’t apologized.

I hadn’t explained myself.

I hadn’t even asked how she felt.

I’d simply moved on.

And she’d followed.

At least, that’s what I’d assumed.

I looked at her again.

Maybe she hadn’t moved on at all.

Maybe she’d simply been waiting for me to acknowledge what I’d done.

The realization sat heavily in my chest.

I’d spent years expecting people to understand me without explanation.

My moods.

My silence.

My decisions.

My temper.

My life.

I’d never stopped to consider how unfair that was.

I’d expected Rose to understand me because I didn’t feel like explaining myself.

But why should she?

She wasn’t inside my head.

She didn’t know what I was thinking.

She couldn’t know what I meant unless I told her.

And I hadn’t told her anything.

I took a slow breath.

"I’m sorry."

Rose’s head lifted.

Her eyes met mine for the first time since I’d entered the room.

Something moved across her expression, but I couldn’t tell what it was.

I continued before I could change my mind.

"I should’ve apologized sooner."

She stared at me.

I held her gaze.

"I shouldn’t have kissed you without asking."

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came.

I didn’t expect any.

"I know I acted like it wasn’t a big deal afterward."

Her eyes lowered.

"It was."

The word came out quietly.

I almost missed it.

But I heard it.

I nodded once.

"I know."

She looked away again.

I wanted to say more.

I wanted to explain why I’d done it.

But suddenly, I realized that explanation wasn’t what she needed.

An explanation could sound like an excuse.

And I didn’t want to excuse it.

I’d done it.

I’d crossed a line.

That was enough.

"I should’ve taken responsibility for that instead of pretending it didn’t happen."

Rose remained silent.

I waited.

Nothing.

For once, I didn’t fill the silence.

I let it stay.

She had spent three days alone with her thoughts.

I could give her a few minutes without demanding anything from her.

I looked toward the curtains.

"Why haven’t you opened these?"

She didn’t answer.

I almost smiled, but stopped myself.

It wasn’t the time.

I walked over to the table instead.

There was a plate of food there, untouched.

I picked it up.

Rose watched me from the bed.

I looked at the plate.

"You need to eat."

Her eyes moved away.

"I know you don’t want to."

No response.

"But you still need to."

I set the plate closer to her.

She looked at it.

Then at me.

I didn’t push it into her hands.

I didn’t tell her to eat immediately.

I simply left it there.

I pulled the chair from the corner of the room and sat down.

Not beside her.

A reasonable distance away.

Rose looked at me like she didn’t understand why I was sitting.

I leaned back.

"I’m not leaving."

Her expression changed slightly.

She looked down.

I could tell she wanted to say something.

She didn’t.

So I stayed quiet.

The silence stretched between us.

It wasn’t comfortable.

But I didn’t expect it to be.

Eventually, Rose reached for the plate.

She didn’t eat.

She only moved it slightly.

Still, I noticed.

I said nothing.

She picked up a small piece of food.

Her fingers trembled slightly.

She put it in her mouth and chewed slowly.

I looked away.

I didn’t want her to feel watched.

She ate another bite.

Then another.

Small amounts.

Slowly.

But she was eating.

Something in my chest loosened.

I kept my eyes on the floor.

After a while, I heard the plate move.

I looked up.

She had stopped.

She wasn’t looking at me.

I didn’t ask why.

She’d eaten enough for now.

I leaned back again.

The room was quiet.

Too quiet.

But I didn’t mind it anymore.

I looked at her.

"Your mother was worried."

Rose’s eyes closed briefly.

"I know."

"She called me."

Her eyes opened.

"You didn’t answer."

I looked away for a moment.

"I didn’t see the calls."

She didn’t respond.

I couldn’t tell if she believed me.

I probably wouldn’t have either.

I’d been unreachable while dealing with everything else.

But that didn’t change the fact that she’d needed someone.

I should’ve been here.

I should’ve noticed.

I’d spent so much time worrying about threats outside the estate that I’d forgotten there were people inside it who could be hurt too.

Rose had been one of them.

Maybe she’d been the one I’d been hurting without realizing it.

I looked at her again.

"I’m not asking you to forgive me."

Her expression remained unreadable.

"I just wanted you to know that I know I was wrong."

Her eyes lifted.

I held her gaze.

"I should’ve said that sooner."

She swallowed.

For a moment, I thought she might finally speak.

She didn’t.

Instead, she looked away.

I let her.

I wasn’t going to force her to talk just because I was finally ready to.

That was the difference between tonight and every other time.

I’d finally realized that this wasn’t about getting the answer I wanted.

It was about giving her room to decide what she wanted to say.

I looked around the room again.

Three days.

Three days she’d been here.

Three days I’d been somewhere else.

The thought bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

I’d always believed that if something threatened the people under my protection, I’d notice.

I’d know.

I’d deal with it.

But Rose hadn’t needed me to fight someone.

She’d needed me to notice her.

And I hadn’t.

That was harder to accept.

I stood slowly.

Rose looked at me.

I walked toward the curtains.

Her eyes followed me.

I stopped beside them.

"Do you want these open?"

She didn’t answer.

I waited.

Still nothing.

I didn’t touch them.

Instead, I turned back toward her.

"All right."

I walked back to the chair and sat again.

She looked almost confused.

Maybe she’d expected me to make the decision for her.

I wasn’t going to.

Not tonight.

A few minutes passed.

Rose eventually lay back against the pillows.

Her eyes remained open.

I watched her quietly.

She looked tired.

More tired than anyone should look.

I wondered how many times she’d cried when nobody was around.

I wondered how long she’d been waiting for me to come.

The thought made my jaw tighten.

I looked away.

I couldn’t change the last three days.

I couldn’t undo what I’d done.

I couldn’t erase the hurt I’d caused by pretending nothing had happened.

But I could stop making it worse.

That was the least I could do.

I stayed.

I didn’t touch her.

I didn’t ask more questions.

I didn’t demand forgiveness.

I didn’t try to make her smile.

I simply sat there while the silence stretched between us.

Eventually, Rose’s eyes began to close.

She looked like she was fighting sleep.

"You should sleep."

Her eyes opened again.

I didn’t say anything else.

After a moment, she closed them.

I remained in the chair.

The room was still dim.

The curtains stayed closed.

The food sat on the table, a little less untouched than before.

It wasn’t much.

But it was something.

I looked at Rose one last time.

I’d spent the last few days chasing answers, hunting down people who knew things they shouldn’t, and trying to understand what my father was hiding from me.

I still had questions.

Too many of them.

But for tonight, they could wait.

Because the person in front of me had been hurting while I was busy looking everywhere else.

And this time, I wasn’t going to walk away.

I leaned back in the chair and stayed where I was.

For once, I could let the silence speak for itself.

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