My Mafia Stepbrother For Christmas

Brielle’s POVThe hotel room was almost completely dark. Except one considered the dim blue light. I liked it that way. It gave off this mysterious, stupid, thrilling effect, just the way I wanted it to. My hands were still shaking a little when I locked the door behind me. I could feel the thumping of my heart increase in speed. I didn’t know if it was from my nerves, or from the excitement, or maybe just from the fact that I was doing something absolutely unhinged. Well not unhinged for me anyway.I made my way to the bed and on getting there, I could only make out a faint silhouette of broad shoulders, tied hands, legs slightly bent. The bag over his head rose and fell with uneven breaths. Great. Everything was in place.I adjusted the cat mask on my face and walked toward him with the leather of my outfit giving a tiny squeak with each step. Two hours ago, I was getting ready for this-shaving, lotioning, and picking the exact right underwear that would survive the night. Finn had

Brielle's POVIf they grabbed the wrong man… then where was Marcus? My stomach cramped. I immediately called Finn. It rang too long.“Come on, Finn,” I hissed. “Pick up.”“Brielle!” Finn finally answered, shouting over loud music. “Oh my God, how did it go? Did Marcus love it? Did he—”“Finn.” My voice cracked. “What room did you tell me?”“547,” he said, confused. “Bri, what’s going on? You sound—”“Are you sure?”“Yes, I’m—Brielle, what happened?”I stared at the text he’d sent earlier.547. “Finn… that wasn’t Marcus.” There was still silence from his end except the loud music from the background.“What?” he finally found the words. “What do you mean—”“I mean the man tied to the bed was not my boyfriend!”“No. No, Bri. That’s…. that’s definitely…. That’s not possible!” He exclaimed and I could tell he was confused as well.“Well, then explain to me why I just peeled off the bag and stared into the face of a complete stranger!”Cassandra’s voice appeared suddenly. “What happened? W

Brielle’s POV Two weeks had crawled by since the breakup, and somehow I still felt like garbage. I had spent the first few days crying on Cassandra’s couch, eating overpriced ice cream, and binge-watching really trashy reality TV shows. Finn had brought wine-the good kind, bless him-and sat with me while I ranted about how men were cosmic punishments disguised as humans.But eventually, life demanded that everyone return to their regularly scheduled programming. Cass had work. Finn had long shifts. And I had… well, I had my own mess. So I threw myself into work. And I designed really hard. I did late nights, extra projects, staying behind until security guards started giving me pity looks. Anything to keep my brain from replaying what happened with Marcus. Anything to avoid thinking about him probably sliding comfortably back into Kate’s arms.I deleted our photos and blocked him everywhere. I threw away that stupid hoodie of his I kept sleeping in. I was fine. Totally fine. Except…

Brielle's POVI didn't make it far.Dante blocked the hallway before I reached the front door, his broad frame filling the narrow space like an impenetrable wall. The scent of him hit me first—that cologne, dark and expensive and utterly masculine, with notes of cedarwood and something spicier that I couldn't quite name. It wrapped around me like smoke, curling into my lungs, making my head spin and my thoughts scatter like leaves in a storm."Move," I said, keeping my eyes fixed somewhere over his left shoulder, not meeting his gaze."We need to talk.""No, we don't.""Brielle." My name on his lips sounded dangerous, weighted with intention and something darker that made my skin prickle with awareness. "You can't just walk away from this.""Watch me."I tried stepping around him, angling my body to squeeze past, but he shifted smoothly, blocking my path again with an ease that suggested he'd anticipated my movement before I'd even made it. The hallway felt impossibly small with him i

Brielle's POV "Plus she'd probably defend him," Finn added darkly. "People like Richard Moretti are good at making themselves look respectable. Good fathers, good businessmen, good citizens. It's all a mask."I picked at my pancakes without eating them, my appetite completely gone. The conversation shifted eventually to safer topics—Cassandra's upcoming case, Finn's latest dating disaster—but the weight of my situation never quite left the table. Even as we laughed at Finn's impression of his Tinder date who'd brought his emotional support peacock to dinner, I felt the shadow of Dante Moretti hanging over everything.When we finally left the restaurant, Finn pulled me aside while Cassandra went to get her car."I mean it, Bri. Be careful." His hands gripped my shoulders, his blue eyes deadly serious in a way I'd rarely seen. "If things get weird, if he does anything that makes you uncomfortable, you call me immediately. Okay?""Okay.""I'm serious. Day or night. I don't care if it's