My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 107

“No,” I snapped, stepping forward before I even thought about it. “You don’t get to talk about her like that.”

His eyes flicked back to me, amused, “Relax,” he said lightly, “I’m just thinking out loud.”

He wasn’t. We all knew he wasn’t.

Morgan shook her head quickly, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Cole laughed, “See, that’s the problem,” he said, glancing back at his men. “You girls still think you get a say.”

Bri pushed herself up from the chair despite the way her leg shook, “Get the hell out.”

Jasmine stepped forward too, her fists already clenched, “You heard her.”

Cole sighed like we were inconveniencing him. Then everything happened too fast. One second the room was tense and the next second, his hand shot out and grabbed Morgan by the arm.

She screamed.

“No—!” I lunged forward, grabbing her other arm, trying to pull her back.

Cole didn’t even look at me. He just shoved me hard. I hit the floor, my shoulder slamming into the edge of the table. Pain shot down my arm.

“Gianna!” Mama D’s voice echoed.

Jasmine moved next. She swung at one of his men, her fist connecting with his jaw but then he hit back harder. Her head snapped to the side and she dropped.

Bri tried to grab a glass bottle from the table, but another man caught her wrist and twisted. She cried out.

“Stop!” I yelled, pushing myself up again, my head spinning.

Cole still had Morgan. She was struggling now, kicking, clawing, panic written all over her face. “Let me go! Let me go!”

“Enough,” Cole muttered, tightening his grip.

Something in me snapped. I didn’t think. I just moved. I grabbed the nearest thing I could find, a heavy metal lamp and swung it straight at him.

It connected with his shoulder. A dull, solid hit. He staggered half a step. His head turned slowly toward me.

I stepped closer, my head shaking harder now. “No,” I said, “It’s not the same.”

They all looked at me again.

“It’s not the same,” I repeated. “Because you choose it. You show up. You set your price. You decide what you give and what you don’t. You walk away when you want to. That’s not someone owning you. That’s you making something out of a system that was already built to use you.”

Mama D’s eyes softened just a little.

“You’re not sitting in some rich man’s house waiting for him to throw money at you,” I said, “You’re not leeching. You’re working. You’re surviving on your terms.”

Bri let out a small, humorless laugh, “Surviving on our backs, you mean.”

“Yeah,” I shot back instantly, “And?”

That shut her up.

“If the world is going to treat us like something to be used,” I went on, “then fine. We flip it. We charge for it. We take control of it. But we don’t let them think they own us because of it.”