He’s My Stepbrother. And My Secret Lover

After grad school applications were done, my online boyfriend, Rowan, asked me where I was headed.

“All my applications got rejected. Looks like I’ll be waiting tables to make ends meet for a while.”

On my desk, the corner of my acceptance letter from Harvard’s graduate school peeked out.

I didn’t tell him the truth.

He was too controlling, and I’d been looking for a way out for a while.

Less than three seconds later, Rowan’s reply popped up.

“Don’t you dare.”

“I already sent you money. Come to me. I’ll take care of everything. You won’t be doing that kind of work.”

There it was again.

I ignored it and called my best friend, Mia, to brag about my brilliant plan.

“I heard him chewing out one of his guys on the phone once. He’s a total perfectionist.”

“So I told him I didn’t get into Harvard and have to work odd jobs. He’ll get sick of me and dump me in no time!”

Mia burst out laughing on the other end. “Carrie, you’re a genius!”

Just then, a knock sounded at my door.

It wasn’t locked. The door swung open.

A tall shadow fell over the doorway, blocking out the light.

It was Louis.

My stepbrother, in name only. The sole heir to the Sterling crime family.

He wore a custom-tailored black shirt, no tie, the top buttons undone.

The scent of cold cedar and a hint of tobacco cut through the air.

I flinched back, my hand tightening on my phone.

He was the person I feared most in this house.

The entire North American underworld knew how ruthless he was.

He was always indifferent to everyone in the family, and his eyes, whenever they landed on me, were cold and condescending.

He stood in the doorway, looking down at me.

“Family dinner next Friday. Don’t make a scene.”

His voice was deep, heavy with authority.

“I know,” I said, dropping my gaze to my feet.

I thought he’d leave after delivering the message, like he always did.

But he didn’t move.

Louis’s gaze drifted over my face before landing on the hand gripping my phone.

He took a step forward.

“What were you just saying,” he narrowed his dark eyes, staring at me, “about working odd jobs?”

“N-nothing.” I forced a calm I didn’t feel, my voice cracking. “Just joking around with Mia…”

Louis was silent for a moment before letting out a short, cold scoff. He glanced away and strode out of the room.

I didn’t breathe again until his footsteps faded down the hall.

“Carrie? You still there? Was that Louis?!”

“Yeah, he’s gone. I think he heard us.” I pouted. “Since when do mob bosses eavesdrop?”

“He probably didn’t hear everything. Besides, who cares if he knows? The real problem is your mom. If she finds out you’re dating someone online, she’ll kill you.”

My heart sank at the mention of my mother.

Evelyn.

A social climber obsessed with money and control. Ever since she married the godfather and dragged me into this life, she’s treated me like a pawn to secure her position.

“You have to be perfect!”

“No carbs! Your waist can’t be an inch over the limit!”

“If you can’t marry into a top-tier family, you’re worthless!”

She drilled those words into my head every single day.

I’ll never forget what happened two years ago.

I’d messed up a single note while practicing a Chopin sonata.

Her face went cold. She dragged me to the pitch-black basement and slammed the iron door shut.

“Stay in there and think about what you did! You can come out when you can play it perfectly!”

That day, suffocating in the darkness, I used an old phone I’d hidden to log onto a forum.

I posted about my despair.

That’s when Rowan appeared.

He understood my pain. He told me he hated the people trying to control him, too.

We confided in each other, comforted each other.

I poured out all the frustration and anger I’d bottled up my whole life.

And he took it all in, never judging.

But now, I wanted out.

His need for control was becoming suffocating.

My mother already made it hard to breathe; I didn't need him doing the same.

He’d asked more than once to call, to video chat, even to meet in person.

But I always refused.