My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 41

I wanted the woods to pulse. I wanted the ground to feel like it was breathing.

I opened a side menu of tools, items we kept in the heavy, locked crates in the estate's sub-basement. I dragged an icon for restraints to the clearing. I added tools scattered through the trees.

I sat back, my breathing a little heavier than before. I closed the file and locked it with my thumbprint.

Everything was ready.

All I needed now were the right prey to fill the dark.

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I left my car at the front, tossed the keys to one of the soldiers and walked into the mansion. It was late, the kind of hour where the house usually felt dead.

But as I passed the hallway toward the stairs, a sharp clink echoed from the kitchen. It sounded like a plate hitting the counter too hard.

I changed my direction. I reached the wide archway of the kitchen and stopped, leaning my shoulder against the cold doorframe.

Gianna was there.

She looked nothing like the girl in the office. She was wearing a t-shirt so big it swallowed her whole, the hem reaching her mid-thigh. Her hair was a messy nest on top of her head. She was standing by the stove. She was humming a low, sweet tune that I didn't recognize.

Then I looked down.

Her feet were wrapped in thick, white medical tape. She was standing on her tiptoes, trying to keep her weight off her heels.

I stayed there and watched. She didn't see me. She flipped a grilled cheese sandwich in the pan, the smell of butter and toasted bread filling the air.

For someone who had spent the entire day acting like she didn’t need anyone’s help, she looked oddly small right now. She looked like a kid sneaking a snack in the middle of the night.

She lifted the sandwich onto a plate and carried it over to the large marble island. She pulled a stool out, her movements were awkward as if every step was a battle. She sat down, let out a long, tired breath, and picked up the sandwich.

Nothing in this house existed without our say. Not even her.

"Late for a snack, isn't it?" I said.

I watched the way her throat moved as she swallowed, the panic rising in her face.

I straightened up and walked toward her. She watched me the whole way, the sandwich still clutched in her hands like she didn’t know what to do with it anymore. I stopped close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look at me.

My eyes dropped to the sandwich then to her hand. A small idea formed, nothing complicated just enough to push. I reached out and wrapped my hand around hers. I felt her flinch, a tiny jolt of electricity passing between us, but I didn't let go.

I pulled her hand and the sandwich up toward my face.

I kept my eyes on hers the entire time. I leaned in, and took a bite right from her fingers. I chewed slowly, watching the way her pulse jumped in the hollow of her throat.

I swallowed, my gaze dropping to her mouth for a split second before snapping back to her eyes. I could see the heat in her face, the way her grip on the bread tightened. She looked like she wanted to run and scream and fight all at the same time.