My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 22

Gianna

━⊰ ❦ ⊱━

I stared at the man in the center of the room. My brain felt slow, like it was trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. I looked at him for a long time, but I felt like I didn't even know who he was.

I thought about the Raphael I saw at the office. That man wore suits that cost thousands of dollars. His hair was always combed back, every strand in its perfect place. He spoke with big, cold words and stood as straight as a pole and wore his glasses. He was polished. He was clean. He was a perfect businessman.

The man standing there was a stranger.

He wasn't wearing a suit. He had on a black leather jacket and under the jacket, he wore nothing. His chest was wide and bare, and it was covered in dark ink. I saw wings, skulls, and snakes that moved over his skin every time he breathed. The tattoos were everywhere, crawling up his neck and disappearing under the leather.

His hair was a mess. It fell over his forehead in dark, tangled strands, like he had been running his fingers through it all night. He had thick silver rings on almost every finger. One of his hands held a glass of dark liquid, and the other arm was thrown carelessly around a woman's shoulder.

She was beautiful, wearing a thin dress that showed everything. She leaned in and pressed her lips to the side of his neck, kissing the skin just below his ear.

He didn't even look at her.

He was busy talking to a man standing nearby. He looked like the leader of a gang, not the boss of a company.

I felt my heart skip a beat. I looked at the bridge of his nose. There it was. The red mark. The cut I had given him.

This version of him made the office version look like a lie. This man didn't follow rules. This man looked like he broke them for fun. He looked raw and wild, like an animal that had been let out of a cage.

I felt a new kind of fear. The Raphael in the suit would fire me. This Raphael? This Raphael looked like he could do much worse... like murder me or something.

I wanted to run, but I couldn't move. I just watched the way the ink moved on his chest as he laughed at something the other man said.

I stepped back before any of them could see me, and my back bumped into someone. Suddenly, a hand grabbed my wrist. Then another hand grabbed my shoulder. I jumped, my heart hitting my ribs. I looked up and saw three girls. They were laughing so hard they could barely stand. They smelled like sweet wine and smoke.

The girl in the middle had hair the color of a neon lime. It was bright green and messy, sticking out in every direction. She leaned in close to me. Her eyes were wide and shiny.

"Why are you over here all by yourself?" she yelled over the music. Her voice was high and bubbly.

"We don't leave friends alone!" another girl screamed. She grabbed my other arm. They didn't wait for me to answer. They just started to pull.

I tried to plant my feet, but there were three of them, and they were strong. They dragged me out of my safe corner and right into the middle of the crowded floor. People were dancing and bumping into us from every side. A wall of tall men and dancing women blocked my view. My stepbrothers couldn't see me, and I couldn't see them. I was lost in the sea of bodies.

The girls pulled me into a small circle. The girl with the green hair put her arms around my neck. She was warm and shaky.

"You look so lost!" she laughed. She touched my cheek with her sticky fingers. "Is this your first time at the Void, pretty girl?"

I swallowed hard. I looked at the dark ceiling and the cages above us. "Yes," I whispered.

The three of them looked at each other. They let out a loud, high-pitched scream of joy. The green-haired girl turned to the crowd and pointed at me.

"We found one!" she cheered. She looked back at me with a mischievous grin, "A first-timer! Our little virgin sacrifice!"

They were teasing me, poking my sides and laughing.

"Should we give her to the wolves?" one girl asked, her voice thick with drink.

Wolves?

"No," the green-haired one said, pulling me closer until I could see the glitter on her eyelids. "We have to keep her for ourselves first. The night is just starting!"

I felt like I was trapped in a colorful, spinning dream. I wanted to run back to my pillar, but they held onto my hands like I was their new toy. They didn't know who I was. Every time the lights flashed, I thought about Raphael, and I prayed the girls wouldn't drag me anywhere near his throne.

The girls didn't let go. They pulled me through the crowd, their hands tight on my skin. We bumped into people who were too far gone to care. I felt like a small boat being tossed around in a rough, dark sea.

We reached a long bar made of black stone. Behind the counter, a man with a shaved head and a cold face was pouring drinks. He didn't look like a normal bartender. He looked like he was guarding a secret.

"Give us the band!" the girl with the green hair screamed, slamming her hand on the stone, "We have a new one!"

The man reached under the counter and pulled out a thin ribbon. It was bright, glowing pink.

"Wait, no—" I started, holding up my hands and trying to step back. "I don't want that."

Before the words could even leave my mouth, the girls swarmed me. They were all smiles and high-pitched giggles, but their grip on my arms was like iron. They were being so friendly, treating me like a sister, but they didn't stop.

"Oh, don't be silly!" the green-haired girl laughed, her breath hot against my ear. "It’s tradition, sweetie. You’re going to look so pretty."

"I said no," I gritted out, twisting my shoulders to get away.

I felt my hair being pulled back roughly as they tied the pink ribbon in a tight knot against my skin.

"There," the green-haired girl whispered, her eyes dancing. "Now everyone knows what you are."

I looked around the room, and suddenly I saw things I hadn't noticed before. Every single person was wearing one of these.

I saw a group of women nearby with red ribbons tied around their wrists or woven into their hair. I looked at the men and every one of them had a black band. Some wore them around their necks like ties, and others had them wrapped around their waists. Red for the women. Black for the men.

And I was the only one in the entire room wearing pink.

I felt a cold shiver go down my back. The girls started to hug me, leaning their weight against me as if we had been friends for years. One of them rested her head on my shoulder, her breath smelling like heavy fruit and vodka, "You’re so pretty," she muttered, "They’re going to love you."

"Who?" I asked confused and terrified.

I tried to pull away, but they just squeezed harder, laughing and dragging me toward a different corner of the massive room. I kept my head down, trying not to look at the pink ribbon reflecting in the mirrors on the walls.

As we moved, the crowd opened up for a second near a dark, private booth.

I stopped walking. My heart skipped a beat. In the corner, under a dim red light, I saw Silvio.

He was pressed against a man with dark hair and a leather vest. Silvio’s eyes were closed, his hands tangled in the other man’s shirt as they made out. He looked completely lost in it, his face messy and his hair wild. He looked nothing like the brother I saw at the dinner table.

The girls saw where I was looking and giggled, "Don't mind him," the one with the green hair whispered, pulling me along. "That’s just how the kings play."

The girls pulled me deeper into the center of the room. I felt the pink ribbon tight against my throat. My skin was hot, and my head was spinning from the loud thumping of the drums.

"Stop!" I said, trying to plant my feet on the slippery floor, "I don't want this. I'm waiting for someone."

The girl with the green hair turned around. She didn't let go of my wrist. She just tilted her head and gave me a wide, messy smile. Her eyes looked like they were seeing things that weren't there.

"Waiting?" she laughed, "In this house, nobody waits for anything. You just take what you want."

"I'm serious," I said, "I don't want to be a part of this. Whatever this 'sacrifice' thing is... I'm not doing it."

I reached up to my neck, my fingers fumbling with the silk knot. But the other two girls grabbed my hands and pulled them down. They were giggling, their faces red from the heat and the drinks.

"No, no, no," one of them whispered into my ear. "The pink is for the ones who haven't played the game yet. You can't take it off. Not until a King decides the game is over."

I looked at them, "A King?"

They all looked toward the high table where Raphael and Dante sat. Then they looked back at me and burst into a fresh wave of laughter.

"Oh, she is going to be so much fun!" the green-haired girl cheered. She clapped her hands together. "Look at her face!"

"She's so fresh," another girl said, touching the fabric of my black top. "The men in black are going to go crazy when they see a pink ribbon in the middle of the floor. It’s been months since we had a new one."

I pulled back, but they just leaned into me, treating me like their favorite new doll. They didn't listen to a word I said. To them, my fear was just part of the show.

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