My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 13

Gianna

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I paced back and forth across the rug in my new room. I was already dressed for my classes, a pair of tight blue jeans, a soft white crop top but I couldn't bring myself to open the door.

My stomach felt like it was full of angry snakes. Every time I thought about going downstairs to that long, marble breakfast table, I felt a wave of cold sickness wash over me.

He knows.

I stopped in front of the mirror and stared at my face. I looked pale. My eyes were wide and filled with fear. I kept seeing Raphael’s face in my head. I saw the way he looked at me on the dance floor.

I closed my eyes, and the memory hit me so hard I had to grab the edge of my dresser. I saw the club. I saw the bright, hot lights and the smell of perfume. I saw myself on that stage, wearing almost nothing, just tiny scraps of black lace that left nothing to the imagination. I remembered the way I had danced for him, moving my body for the money he held out.

He hadn't just seen me. He had paid for me. He had touched me. He had watched me in the skimpiest lingerie ever made, and now he was my stepbrother. He lived in the same house. He ate at the same table.

I leaned over and took a deep breath, trying not to throw up right there on the expensive rug. The thought of him telling my mom made my head spin. He could destroy our lives with one sentence. He could tell everyone that the good girl who studied hard was actually the girl who took off her clothes for strangers in a dark room.

My mom would never trust me again.

Maybe I can just jump out the window. Maybe I can run to the bus station and never come back.

Just as I was about to grab my bag and try to sneak out the back way, a soft knock hit my door. I jumped so hard I nearly hit the ceiling.

"Gianna? Are you awake?"

The door creaked open, and Madeleine stepped inside. She looked beautiful and bright, her hair perfectly done, wearing a soft dress that made her look like a dream.

"Oh, you're all ready for school! You look great," she said, her voice bright. She walked over and touched my arm, and I had to fight the urge to flinch. "Come on downstairs. Everyone is waiting for breakfast. Salvatore wants the whole family together this morning."

My throat felt like it was full of sand, "I... I'm not really hungry, Maddie. I think I'll just go to class early."

"Nonsense," she laughed, gently pulling on my hand. "It's a big morning. Your mom is already down there, she looks so good. You need a good meal before you head to the university. Then we'll leave together."

I let her lead me toward the door. Every step down the hallway felt like a step toward my own execution.

I could hear the clinking of silverware and the low rumble of men's voices coming from the dining room. I knew Raphael would be there. I knew he would be watching me, waiting for the perfect moment to tear my world apart.

I felt like I had "STRIPPER" written in big, ugly letters across my face.

I took one last deep breath, trying to settle the sickness in my stomach, and followed Madeleine down the stairs.

My mum will kill me.

Madeleine guided me to the long table, and I slid into the same spot I had sat in before. I was squeezed right between Maddie and Claire. It felt like being trapped between two soft pillows.

Claire looked up and gave me a warm smile. Without a word, she picked up a heavy silver spoon and started filling a plate for me. She piled on eggs and fruit, treating me like I was a guest of honor.

"Eat up, Gianna," Claire whispered, pushing the plate toward me.

I tried to smile back, but I didn't look up. I kept my eyes locked on the eggs, watching the steam rise. But I didn't need to look up to know who was sitting directly across from me.

I could feel him.

I finally risked a tiny glance, just a peek through my hair.

Raphael was sitting right there. He was wearing a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up just enough to show his expensive watch. His hair was neat, and perfectly styled.

He wasn't eating. He was leaning back in his chair, a cup of black coffee held loosely in one hand. He was just watching me. He just stared at me with those dark, knowing eyes, like he was reading every panicked thought running through my brain.

I picked up a fork with a shaking hand. I tried to take a bite of the eggs Claire had given me, but they tasted like cardboard. Every time I chewed, I could feel his gaze on my neck, on my face, on my hands.

"Is the food okay, Gianna?" my mother asked from the other end of the table.

I jumped, the fork clattering against the china plate. I looked at her, my face burning. "Yes, Mom. It's... it's great."

I kept my head down, focusing on a piece of toast like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"So, Gianna," Salvatore’s voice cut through every conversation on the table. I froze, my fork halfway to my mouth, "Hazel tells me you’re quite the brain."

Before I could even swallow, my mother beamed. She sat up straighter, her eyes sparkling with a kind of pride that made my chest ache. She loved me so much, and she had no idea that her genius daughter was a heartbeat away from a total breakdown.

"Oh, she’s doing amazing things," Mom said, as she started counting on her fingers, "She’s specializing in Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning."

Salvatore tilted his head, looking genuinely curious, "Like the robots that are going to take over the world?"

My mom laughed, waving her hand. "Not quite! She builds models that learn. She showed me a project once where she taught a computer how to recognize different types of cells. She’s had a 4.0 GPA since she started. She’s the top of her class."

I felt my face get hotter and hotter. I could feel everyone's eyes on me.

"That is impressive," Salvatore mused, "What comes next?"

He leaned in just a little, his eyes locking onto mine.

"But don't expect me to be nice," he warned, "You’ll go through the technical interview just like a stranger off the street. I don't hire people who can't handle the pressure, and I definitely don't hire people I can't trust. If you fail, you're gone. And you'll never mention my name to another employer again."

I looked straight at Raphael, and for a second, I forgot to be afraid. All I felt was a hot, sharp need to stay as far away from him as possible.

"No," I said, "I’m not interested."

Raphael raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes tracking the way my chest was heaving.

"Excuse me?" Salvatore asked.

"I’ve spent three years working my way through this," I said, looking from Salvatore back to Raphael, "I didn't do that just to become a family hire. I don't want to be the girl who got a job because her mom married the boss. I want to build something that belongs to me."

"Gianna..." Salvatore sighed.

I turned my gaze back to Raphael, my heart hammering, "And besides, I don't think your son even wants me there."

Raphael leaned back, a small, mean smile playing on his lips. "I don't. I don’t hire people based on who they’re related to."

I nodded, "Exactly. So it’s settled. I’ll find my own way."

My mom turned to look at me, her voice softening. "Gianna, honey, just give it a chance. You don't have to take the job if you hate it. But think about what you could learn from a company like his. Think about the doors it would open for you later."

She looked back at Salvatore, then at Raphael, her face pleading.

"Please, just let her try. Raphael, if you could just give her one interview. Let her show you what she can actually do. If she isn't the best person for the spot, then don't hire her."

I looked at my mom, and my heart broke into a million pieces. Why was she so stuck on the idea of buying a future for me? It felt like she was trying to hand me a life I hadn't earned, instead of letting me stand on my own two feet.

"Mom, I really don't think—"

"One interview," Salvatore interrupted, as he looked at Raphael, "On Monday. You put her through the same test as everyone else. If she fails, she fails. But you will give her the seat at the table."

Raphael’s eyes stayed locked on mine. He looked like he was watching a bug he was about to squash.

He stood up, towering over the table, "Come ready to work on Monday. I won't be easy on you just because my father is watching. If you can't keep up, I’ll fire you before lunch."

I stared back at him, my jaw tight. I was terrified of what he would find out, but I couldn't let him see me blink, "I’ll see you Monday, Raphael."