Off-limits: My One-Night Stepbrother

_Ariana’s POV_

He said he was stressed from work and couldn’t make it to dinner again.

So I decided to bring the birthday to him.

what's the point of a birthday if you don’t celebrate it on the right day?. Cake in one hand, gift in the other, I kept telling myself that a smile was worth the traffic.

The knock went unanswered.

I called. No reply.

The doorknob turned under my hand, and that’s when my stomach twisted.

Adrian was paranoid about security. He double-locked everything. Always.

The door shouldn’t have been open.

I stepped inside and the silence felt wrong. Too quiet. Too still.

“Babe? Adrian?” My voice sounded too bright, forced, fake.

A designer bag by the door. A familiar pink scarf draped over the chair. Heels I recognized instantly.

They weren’t mine.

If they weren’t mine… then whose?

My breath caught. I refused to let the thought form.

There had to be an explanation. There always was.

So I walked toward the bedroom, each step heavier than the last.

The door was cracked open. Light spilled out from the dim lamp inside.

I pushed it open.

The sound hit me first.

The low uneven rhythm of skin against skin. The muffled gasps. The way the bedframe moved against the wall.

And then I saw them.

She was under him, legs locked around his waist, head thrown back.

He was buried deep inside her, moving like she was the only person who existed.

“Sophie… you feel so good,” he whispered, her name falling from his lips like it belonged there.

My brain went blank.

For a second, maybe two, I couldn’t process what I was seeing. Like my mind had shut down to protect me.

Then everything snapped into place, sharp and brutal, like a switch had been flipped.

_Betrayal doesn’t scream. It whispers in the quiet moments, until one day it shatters you from the inside out._

I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t felt it — the way my chest caved in and my hands turned to ice, all at once.

The cake slipped from my fingers.

The box crashed to the floor.

And Adrian finally looked up.

His eyes locked with mine.

The air left my lungs like I’d been punched.

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even blink.

All I could do was stand there, cake smeared across the room floor, while the man I’d loved for two years looked at me like I was the one who’d done something wrong.

Adrian sat up in the bed, not even bothering to pull the sheet higher. His eyes dragged over me, irritated, like I’d interrupted something important.

Sophie sat beside him, hair a mess, refusing to meet my gaze.

“You’re here, what the hell are you doing here?” he said. Flat. Dismissive.

Something cold settled in my chest. I opened my mouth, but before I could say a word, he cut me off.

“I’m busy. I told you I was busy. But no, you just had to show up unannounced.”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling like I was the inconvenience.

“Maybe if you’d loosen up a bit, this wouldn’t happen.”

My fingers curled into fists. _Loosen up._

“What did I do to deserve this?” My voice was quiet. Too quiet.

I needed him to say it. I needed to hear him say it out loud.

Adrian rolled his eyes, like I was being dramatic.

“Don’t act like you don’t know.”

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, speaking like he’d been holding this in for months.

“Is it my fault you’re no fun? You barely let me touch you, let alone sleep with you. Every time I try, it’s ‘not tonight, Adrian’, ‘I’m tired, Adrian’. I’m a guy, Ariana. What was I supposed to do?”

Sophie shifted beside him, but didn’t stop him. Of course she didn’t.

“So you had to sleep with _her_?” The words tore out of me before I could stop them.

“Of all people, my best friend?”

His jaw tightened.

“It may sound bad, but I actually do love her.”

The slap landed before I even realized I’d moved.

The sound echoed through the bedroom, sharp and final.

Adrian’s head snapped to the side, hand flying to his cheek.

Sophie gasped.

“I don’t.” My voice shook, but I forced it steady.

“I don’t want your love. I don’t want _this_. All of this… you both will regret this.”

I couldn’t breathe. My throat was tight, my eyes burning.

I struggled to find words, but they kept catching, kept dissolving into the lump in my chest.

My voice almost betrayed me. Almost broke.

Tears were hot behind my eyes, threatening to fall. I refused to let them. Not here. Not in front of them.

I turned and walked out of the bedroom, down the stairs and through the living room where her items still lay on the floor, and toward the building door.

My legs felt like lead, but I forced them to move. One step. Then another.

I didn’t run. I didn’t look back.

I got to the door placing my hands on the door knob before pausing for a second. 'I didn't deserve this' was the only thought I had.

I made it to the door before the first tear slipped free.

Then another.

By the time I burst out of the building, my vision was blurry, my chest was heaving, and the sob I’d been holding back finally broke loose.

The night air hit my face like a slap.

And for the first time in two years, I wasn’t Adrian’s girlfriend.

I was just Ariana. Alone. Betrayed. And done.

I hauled a cab outside the building, gave my address, and stared at the city lights blurring past the window.

But when the driver pulled up in front of my building, I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t face an empty apartment that still smelled like him.

“Change of plans,” I muttered, tossing him extra cash. “Hotel downtown. Any one.”

Twenty minutes later I was at the bar, a glass sweating against my fingers, mascara smudged and dress wrinkled from running down those stairs.

I needed a drink. God, I needed it.

“Pour me another,” I told the bartender.

Before he could respond, the seat beside me shifted.

A shadow fell across the counter, and I felt it before I saw it—the kind of presence that made the room quieter.

He was hot in the worst way.

Broad shoulders, black shirt stretched tight over a chest that looked like it didn’t know what “sitting still” meant. Jaw sharp, eyes dark and assessing, like he was used to people doing exactly what he said without being asked.

Dominating. Unbothered. Dangerous in a way that made my pulse stutter despite everything.

I didn’t know his name.

I also didn't know he was about to ruin my life all over again.

I just knew I couldn’t look away.

"fourth glass, looks like someone had a rough day"