My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 204

Chapter 204

“What does that mean, Gianna?” he asked, “You grew up in a mansion. Surrounded by guards, money, power,’ his gaze dragged over my face, searching, “So tell me… who the hell was putting their hands on you hard enough that this–” his fingers hovered near my cheek, not touching, but close enough to burn “-feels like nothing?”

Shit.

I felt it then. That small, stupid slip.

I tried to shrug it off, but with him crowding me against the door, there wasn’t enough space to pretend I didn’t feel it.

“It’s a long story,” I said, “And not one you get to hear,” my eyes flicked up to his, “We had a deal, remember? told you, when I said ‘no feelings,’ I meant the whole deck. No sympathy, no checking in, nothing.”

I shifted, trying to slide past him but it didn’t work. It was like trying to move a brick wall. His hand shot out before I could blink, fingers wrapping around my arm. Enough to remind me I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hey,” I started, but the word didn’t even finish.

He pulled me. The room spun a little as he dragged me to the bed and pushed me down onto the edge of it. The mattress dipped under my weight, silk shifting under my hands.

“Stay.”

I pushed against the bed immediately, trying to get back up, irritation snapping through me, “Raphael, I said I’m fine. Get out of my-

“Shut up, Gianna.”

He leaned over me, bracing his hands on either side of my thighs, caging me in without even touching me.

The lamp behind me threw shadows across his face, cutting his features sharper, darker. His jaw was tight, his eyes locked on mine like he was daring me to try that again.

“You’re going to sit there,” he said, “and you’re going to let me fix it.”

My heartbeat stuttered… just slightly. It was annoying.

I leaned back on my hands, chin tipping up in defiance, “I remember very clearly telling you not to care,” I shot back, “Is your memory that short?”

He tilted his head, watching me like I’d just said something almost amusing, “You told the man who’s supposed to fuck you not to care,” he said quietly.

His eyes dropped to my parted lips and then back up to my eyes.

“Not me.”

My pulse stuttered.

“What’s the difference?” I asked, even though something in my chest already didn’t like the answer.

“Family.”

The word dropped between us.

“We’re family, right?” he continued, softer now, but somehow worse.

His hand finally moved, lifting just enough to brush a stray strand of hair away from my face. It was barely a touch but still, I felt it everywhere.

“Family takes care of each other,” he said, eyes darkening slightly, “That’s allowed, same way Silvio handed you his hoodie without thinking twice.”

My throat went dry.

“As your brother…” he added, and there was something in the way he said it-something off, something that didn’t sit right-“…platonic.”

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