Stepbrother's Lust: A Forbidden Mafia Romance

Rose’s POV

I knew something was wrong with Sierra the moment we got upstairs.

She wasn’t talking.

That alone wasn’t unusual. Sierra could go quiet when she was tired, annoyed, distracted, or thinking about something she didn’t want to share. The problem was that I’d known her long enough to tell the difference between her normal silence and this.

This was the kind of quiet that came after she’d been angry for too long.

She sat on the edge of my bed, scrolling through her phone with an expression that suggested she was completely absorbed in whatever was on the screen. I watched her for a few seconds before finally giving up.

"Sierra."

"Hm?"

"What’s wrong?"

"Nothing."

I frowned.

She didn’t even look up.

"You’re doing that thing."

"What thing?"

"The thing where you say you’re fine when you’re obviously not fine."

She finally looked at me.

"I’m fine."

"See?"

"See what?"

"You’re doing it again."

She sighed and dropped her phone onto her lap.

"Rose, I’m fine."

I stared at her.

She stared back.

Neither of us moved.

Finally, she rolled her eyes. "You worry too much."

"And you lie badly."

"I don’t lie badly."

"You do."

"I don’t."

"You literally look angry at the wall."

Her mouth twitched.

"I’m not angry at the wall."

"Then what are you angry at?"

She opened her mouth, paused, and picked up her phone again.

"Nothing."

I narrowed my eyes.

"You’re impossible."

"Funny. I was about to say the same thing about you."

I let it go.

For the moment.

I sat beside her, stretching my legs out in front of me. The room settled into silence again, but this time I didn’t push her. Sierra would talk when she was ready. She usually did.

A few minutes passed before she suddenly said, almost casually, "I saw Reagan today."

My head turned toward her before I could stop it.

"You saw Reagan?"

The question came out much faster than I intended.

Sierra gave me a look.

"Unfortunately."

I immediately tried to recover.

"Oh."

She watched me for another second before looking away.

"At the mall."

I nodded slowly.

"Okay."

That should’ve been the end of it.

It wasn’t.

I don’t know why my brain immediately wanted to know more. Maybe because Reagan had been on my mind more than I wanted to admit lately. Maybe because I hadn’t seen him since earlier. Or maybe it was because Sierra’s voice had carried just enough irritation to make me suspicious.

I glanced at her.

"Who was he with?"

There was a pause.

Tiny.

Barely noticeable.

But I noticed it.

Sierra looked at me.

"Some woman."

My fingers stopped moving.

"Some woman?"

"Yes."

"What woman?"

"I don’t know."

I nodded.

"Right."

I looked down at my hands.

It shouldn’t have mattered.

It didn’t matter.

Reagan could go wherever he wanted. He could talk to whoever he wanted. He could spend time with whoever he wanted.

He wasn’t mine.

We weren’t together.

We hadn’t even properly defined whatever the hell was happening between us.

There was no reason for me to care.

None.

I repeated that to myself, hoping the thought would settle something inside me.

Then Sierra added, far too casually, "She kissed him."

Everything inside me went still.

I stared at her.

"Oh."

That was all I managed.

Sierra’s eyebrows lifted.

"That’s it?"

I looked at her.

"What am I supposed to say?"

"I don’t know."

She studied my face.

I suddenly became very interested in the blanket beside me.

"She kissed him," I repeated, trying to make my voice sound as indifferent as possible.

"Yes."

"Okay."

I nodded.

"Good for her."

Sierra’s expression changed.

I could practically see the thought forming in her head.

"Rose."

"What?"

"You’re jealous."

I immediately looked at her.

"I’m not jealous."

"You are."

"I’m literally not."

"You are."

"I’m not."

"Your face says otherwise."

"My face doesn’t say anything."

"It does."

I touched my cheek instinctively.

Sierra laughed.

"See?"

"What?"

"You just checked."

"I did not."

"You did."

I groaned and leaned back against the headboard.

"I don’t care who kissed him."

"Sure."

"I don’t."

"Okay."

"I don’t."

"Rose."

"What?"

"You’ve said you don’t care three times."

"Because I don’t."

"People who don’t care usually don’t need to announce it."

I glared at her.

She smiled.

I hated her.

"You’re annoying."

"I’ve been told."

I looked away.

The image had already appeared in my head.

A woman.

Some woman.

Standing beside Reagan.

Kissing him.

I didn’t even know what she looked like, and somehow that made my imagination worse. She was probably beautiful. Confident. The kind of woman who knew exactly what she wanted and had no problem taking it.

Probably nothing like me.

I immediately stopped myself.

Why was I comparing myself to someone I hadn’t even seen?

This was ridiculous.

Reagan wasn’t mine.

I knew that.

I’d known it from the beginning.

So why did the thought of his lips on someone else’s make my stomach twist?

I looked down.

Then I remembered earlier.

The way he’d stood in front of me.

The way his eyes had dropped to my lips.

The way he’d leaned closer.

I’d known what he was about to do.

Then my stomach had betrayed me.

I felt heat creep into my face just thinking about it.

And then he’d laughed.

Of course he had.

But before that...

There had been something in his expression.

Something I couldn’t explain.

I’d felt it when he held me too. The warmth of his arms around me. The way he’d stopped when I’d asked him to. The way he’d looked at me like he was trying to understand something he couldn’t quite put into words.

I swallowed.

Then I imagined that same expression directed at someone else.

The thought irritated me.

A lot.

I frowned.

This was stupid.

I didn’t like him.

At least, I wasn’t supposed to.

He was difficult. Arrogant. Controlling. He made decisions without asking anyone. He’d kissed me without asking. He’d scared me. He had a terrible way of communicating, and somehow, despite all of that, I was sitting here wondering what kind of woman he’d been with at the mall.

I covered my face.

"This is ridiculous."

Sierra looked at me.

"What?"

"Nothing."

She waited.

I lowered my hands.

"I’m just thinking."

"That’s dangerous."

I glared at her.

She smiled.

"About Reagan?"

"No."

She raised an eyebrow.

I sighed.

"Maybe."

"Thought so."

I looked away.

"I just..."

I struggled to find the words.

"I don’t like the idea of someone else..."

I stopped.

Sierra waited.

"Someone else what?"

I shook my head.

"Nothing."

She gave me a look.

"Rose."

I groaned.

"I don’t know."

"What don’t you know?"

"I don’t know why it bothers me."

Sierra’s expression softened slightly.

That was somehow worse than her teasing.

I stared down at my hands.

"He can do whatever he wants."

"Yes."

"And I know that."

"Yes."

"So I shouldn’t care."

"Probably."

I frowned.

"That’s not helpful."

"I’m not trying to be helpful."

"Clearly."

She smiled faintly.

I sighed.

"It’s just..."

I paused.

"I don’t like the idea of someone else getting that side of him."

Sierra went quiet.

I immediately regretted saying it.

"What side?"

I shrugged.

"I don’t know."

"The side that held you?"

I didn’t answer.

"The side that kissed you?"

I looked at her.

She smiled knowingly.

"Don’t."

"I’m not saying anything."

"You are."

She leaned back against the headboard.

"You like him."

"I don’t."

"You do."

"I don’t."

"Okay."

I narrowed my eyes.

"Don’t say okay like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you don’t believe me."

"I don’t."

I groaned.

"I don’t like Reagan."

Sierra stared at me.

I looked away.

"...I don’t."

She still said nothing.

That somehow made me feel worse.

After a few seconds, she finally shrugged.

"Fine."

I looked at her.

"Fine?"

"Fine."

"That’s it?"

"You’re clearly not ready to admit it."

I opened my mouth.

She lifted a hand.

"And I’m not going to force you."

I closed my mouth.

That was probably the first sensible thing she’d said all afternoon.

I leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

Maybe I was jealous.

Maybe I wasn’t.

I didn’t know.

What I did know was that I hated the feeling. It made me feel stupid, especially because there was nothing I could do about it.

Reagan wasn’t mine.

He didn’t owe me anything.

If he wanted to spend his afternoon with another woman, that was his business. If she wanted to kiss him, that was her business. If he kissed her back...

I stopped that thought before it could finish.

No.

I didn’t want to think about that.

I turned toward Sierra.

"So what was she like?"

Sierra looked at me.

"You said you didn’t care."

"I don’t."

"Then why ask?"

"I was just curious."

"Sure."

"Sierra."

She laughed.

"Fine."

She thought for a moment.

"She was pretty."

I immediately regretted asking.

"Okay."

"Classy."

I stared at her.

"Why are you describing her like you’re writing a report?"

"Because you asked."

"I didn’t ask for details."

"You literally asked what she was like."

I sighed.

Sierra smiled.

"She was dressed nicely. Very confident. She was holding onto his arm."

My stomach tightened again.

I looked away.

"Sounds nice."

"She was."

"Good."

"Rose."

"What?"

"Stop pretending."

I didn’t answer.

The silence settled again.

After a moment, Sierra sighed.

"You know, if you actually like him, you should probably figure that out before somebody else does."

I looked at her.

"I don’t like Reagan."

She gave me a look.

I looked away.

"...I don’t."

She didn’t argue.

I appreciated that.

For once, she just let me sit with it.

But the uncomfortable feeling didn’t disappear.

Instead, another thought pushed its way forward.

The wedding.

Seven days.

I remembered our conversation from earlier.

Everything was fine.

Sierra had said it.

She’d said it like she was trying to convince herself.

I looked at her.

She was staring down at her phone again.

"Sierra."

"Hm?"

"About the wedding..."

She looked up.

"What about it?"

I hesitated.

"I still feel like something’s wrong."

Her expression changed slightly.

There it was again.

That tiny hesitation.

She recovered quickly.

"Rose, you’re overthinking it."

Maybe.

I wanted to believe that.

But lately, everything seemed connected.

The strange behavior around the house.

The way Devon had been acting.

The way Reagan had been disappearing without explaining himself.

The way Sierra sometimes seemed to know more than she said.

The wedding getting closer.

And now this strange woman appearing beside Reagan.

I rubbed my hands together.

Maybe I was putting things together that didn’t belong together.

Maybe the wedding really was just a wedding.

Maybe Reagan really was just spending time with someone.

Maybe Sierra was right.

Maybe I was overthinking everything.

But that didn’t explain the feeling.

Something still felt wrong.

And now I couldn’t decide what bothered me more.

The fact that another woman had kissed Reagan...

Or the growing suspicion that there was something happening around me that everyone else already knew about.

I looked toward the window.

Seven days.

Seven days until my mother’s wedding.

And for some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that by the time that day arrived, I was going to find out something I wasn’t ready to hear.

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