My Stepbrother Got Me Pregnant

I was twelve when Mom married into the Greyson family. One of Italy’s wealthiest families in Sydney.Before that, our lives had been simple. Normal. Predictable. I never imagined living in marble halls and eating with gold-plated silverware, or waking up to ocean views from a villa that looked like it belonged in a Vogue spread.And then came Hunter Greyson.The family's only son. My new stepbrother.He was two years older than me—sixteen when we met. He had the kind of beauty that made girls blush and boys jealous. Tall, lean, all sharp cheekbones and piercing eyes, like a prince from a fantasy novel. He was popular, confident, and so far out of my league it hurt.At fourteen, I called him “brother.” He called me “sis.” But even back then, I knew the truth: my feelings for him were never sibling-like.I wrote about him constantly in my diary—pages filled with secrets I’d never dare say aloud. Nicknames, fantasies, love letters I never intended to send. I told myself it was just a cru

When Hunter woke up the next morning, sunlight poured through the windows. The room was too bright. Too late.“Shit,” he muttered, bolting upright. His phone lay dead on the nightstand — the alarm never went off.He glanced at me still sleeping, then cursed again as he threw the covers off and slipped out of bed. He should’ve left before dawn, like always.As he tiptoed down the stairs, barefoot and shirtless, Mom’s voice rang out, stopping him cold.“Hunter…?” Her voice faltered. “You’re… coming out of Chris’s room?”Hunter froze mid-step.“Auntie—” he started, but no words followed.Mom’s eyes widened with confusion and disbelief. This had never happened in all these years. Not once had he been caught.Thinking fast, I appeared behind him and stepped forward. “Mom, it’s not what you think. I asked Hunter for help with a last-minute college project. I panicked and woke him up.”Hunter turned back to me, stunned by how calmly I was handling it.“I totally forgot it was due today,” I a

“Grandma… I miss you so much,” I whispered through trembling lips. My chest tightened as memories swirled like smoke. Her voice, her warmth, the way she held me when I thought my world was falling apart.This wasn’t just goodbye to her. This was goodbye to everything—my old life, my innocence, my love for Hunter.Maybe Grandma would’ve understood me. Maybe she would've told me to run far away.I turned to leave with the urn cradled to my chest.But Alina stepped right into my path like a snake poised to strike.“Christina, you’re still not over him, are you?” she hissed, her perfect smile cracking like glass.Hunter was nearby, his back turned, deep in a work call.I glared at her, clutching the urn tighter. “Are you seriously doing this here? At a crematorium?” My voice trembled with fury.But Alina wasn’t done.She grabbed my wrist. Her perfectly manicured nails dug in like claws. “You need to hear this—”I jerked away.The urn slipped.CRASH.“No—NO!” I screamed as the urn hit the

HunterAfter Alina’s after-party, I stumbled home drunk. My head was pounding, my shirt half-buttoned. The clock screamed dinner time, but I couldn’t care less.“Is this any hour to come home?” Dad’s voice boomed the second I stepped inside. His face was flushed with rage. “You should have been here. Do you even know about Chris—”“Carter, please.” Melania’s soft plea cut him off. She rushed to me, pressing a hand to my arm as though I were still her little boy. “Hunter, go to your room. I’ll send you some hangover soup.”Her eyes were gentle, but I didn’t hear her. My gaze was darting across the dining room, searching. Christina’s chair was empty.Without a word, I walked upstairs.Hot water splashed against my skin in the shower, but it didn’t wash away the hollowness gnawing at me. By the time I stepped out, a steaming bowl of soup sat on the table. I grabbed it, stared for a second, then poured it straight into the trash.At 2 a.m., I couldn’t take it anymore. My body acted on ins

HunterI came to the club straight after work, but I couldn’t sit still in my office, couldn’t sleep in my own damn bed either. The walls were closing in on me. My chest felt tight, restless.“Hunter, what’s wrong? You’re not even dancing tonight?” Sam asked, pouring whiskey into a glass and shoving it toward me.I clinked his glass halfheartedly and downed mine in one brutal swallow. The burn didn’t even scratch the surface of what I was feeling.Edd laughed, leaning back in his chair like the smug bastard he was. “Looks like your toy finally left, huh? That’s why you’re sulking like a kicked puppy.”“Yeah, your prec