Chapter 4

His body froze, mid-thrust. The girl beneath him whimpered, confused by the sudden halt.

For a beat, a long, agonizing beat, he simply stared. Then, a slow, chilling smirk spread across his lips. His eyes, still locked on mine, held a malicious glint. The girl cried out a gasp of pleasure as he slammed into her, harder, faster than before.

He didn’t break eye contact, neither did he stop thrusting. His gaze burning into me, his smirk widening as the woman moaned, her voice echoing through the room. He was fucking her, and he was making sure I watched.

And the worst part? My traitorous and weak body, responded. The ache between my legs intensified, a hot, liquid warmth spreading. My nipples tightened. I could feel my pussy clenching, a desperate, silent plea for release.

Shame washed over me, drowning the arousal. What was I doing? Standing here, watching my stepbrother have sex, getting turned on? Disgust curdled in my stomach. I tore my gaze away, a strangled gasp escaping my lips.

I turned and ran down the hallway, back to the direction of my room, the sounds from his room still ringing in my ears. I burst into my own room, slamming the door shut, leaning against it, gasping for air.

I ripped off my bag, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. I removed my shirt, then my trousers, letting them crumple on the floor. I stumbled into the bathroom, turned the shower on, twisting the knob all the way to cold.

I stood under it, letting the freezing water wash over me, trying to cleanse away the images, the sounds, the sickening, thrilling arousal.

The water ran down my body, stinging my skin, but it did little to relieve the turmoil inside me. My mind replayed the scene: Alec’s face, contorted in pleasure, then that cold, knowing smirk as he watched me. The woman’s desperate moans. The wet, rhythmic sounds. My own shameful response. I stayed under the spray until my teeth started chattering.

I turned off the water and grabbed a towel, wrapping it tightly around myself. My skin was covered in goosebumps and I was shivering. But I think I deserved that.

I stepped out of the bathroom, the air in my room suddenly feeling too warm. I moved towards my dresser, reaching for clean clothes, when a voice, low and laced with amusement, sliced through the quiet.

“What were you doing, exactly?”

My head snapped up and my breath caught in my throat.

Alec.

He was sitting on my bed, his back to me, perfectly at ease. He wore only a pair of dark jeans, slung low on his hips. He hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on before coming into my room?. Is that even appropriate?

Who is talking about appropriate, Jenna, you?

My eyes, despite myself, traced the hard lines of his back, the sharp angles of his shoulder blades, the tattoos, before I snapped back to reality.

“What are you doing in my room!” I shrieked, the towel clutched tighter to my chest.

He turned slowly, a book in his hand. My stomach dropped. It wasn’t just a book. It was my diary. The one with the cheap floral cover, the one I’d hidden beneath a pile of sweaters in my bottom drawer. I took it out last night and forgot to return it back there.

His eyes, dark and unreadable, flicked from my face to the diary, then back again. A slow, predatory smile spread across his lips.

“Didn’t know my step-sister is a sociopath,” he drawled, his voice a low rumble. He opened the diary, flipping through a few pages. “Does your mom know you do this to her boyfriends? Since you are, what?” He paused, pretending to read, his eyes scanning the page. “Thirteen?”

Heat, furious and scalding, surged through me. “Give that back! How dare you go through my stuff!”

I lunged for him, but he merely shifted, holding the diary just out of my reach. His arm was a solid, unyielding bar.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see the look on your dad’s face,” he continued, his voice dripping with mockery “when he realizes his precious daughter is a criminal.”

I tried to snatch the diary again, my fingers brushing against the worn cover. He pulled it away, effortlessly avoiding my grasp. His eyes, still holding that infuriating smirk, dared me to try again.

“It’s not what you think!” I hissed, my voice trembling with rage. “Give it back!”

“Not what I think?” He raised a brow, his gaze dropping pointedly to the towel barely covering me. “And why did you shower in this cold weather? Sis, is everything okay?”

The mock concern in his tone made my skin burn hotter.

I scoffed, tightening my grip on the towel. “And why are you shirtless in this cold weather?” I shot back, chin lifting. “Bro.”

His smirk deepened. And before I could anticipate it, his hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist pulling me towards him. I gasped as my body stumbled forward, landing right between his thighs.

“I don’t think I need to explain why,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, rougher, his breath ghosting across my skin. “You saw everything.”

The memory hit me all at once, the sounds, the way his eyes had locked on mine without stopping.

My pulse spiked as I yanked my hand from his grip, stepping back so quickly my footing slipped and the towel fell.

For one horrifying second, the world froze.

Air kissed my bare skin and my hands flew down, scrambling to cover whatever they could reach first. Heat flooded my face, my neck, my chest — humiliation crashing into fury in a violent wave.

Alec’s gaze dropped, unapologetically and with infuriating calmness watched me from head to toe. The corner of his mouth lifted again before he leaned back slightly, shaking his head like he’d just witnessed something mildly disappointing.

“What a horrible sight to see.”

The words landed harder than any shout could have.

Rage ignited in me instantly as I bent down, snatching the towel from the floor and wrapping it tightly around myself, fingers trembling with a mix of anger and humiliation. My chest rose and fell unevenly as I glared at him, the insult echoing in my head louder than it should have.

He had touched me, mocked me, stole my diary. And now he had the audacity to sit there looking entertained.

“I’m Jenna Carter,” I said, my voice low and shaking in a way I hated, but steady enough to carry the weight of my anger. “And I don’t let things go. Especially when I’m insulted and assaulted.”

His laugh came out soft but It was worse than if he had yelled.

“Alec,” I continued, my jaw tightening, “whatever you think you are… you just started a war you will never win. I will make sure I end you.”

He laughed again louder this time, head tilting back slightly like the threat genuinely entertained him.

“Okay, little girl,” he said smoothly, standing up at last, the diary still firmly in his hand. “I’m not dropping your diary though.” He tapped the cover lightly with his thumb. “Consider this your first punishment.” and then walked towards the door.

I watched him go, my body still shaking, my mind reeling with different wicked things I could do to him. Then he paused at the doorway, turning his head slightly.

“And next time,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper, “try knocking before you barge in. Some of us have private lives.”

“Then fucking lock your door and tell your girlfriends to keep it down!”

He slammed the door, leaving me alone in my room, wrapped in a towel, my diary stolen, and the lingering scent of sex and his cologne hanging heavy in the air.

Whatever happened next, he asked for it.