Masuk꧁ Marisella ꧂The car is in motion before I collect myself.Alexei drives like a devil, speeding so fast the scenery blurs past.“Please tell me you’re joking.” My voice is small.“What did you see? Did you notice anything else?”“No. I—I slept off right after, and this morning I left in a hurry. I was so sure it was you.”“Even if it was, you had no business leaving your door open.”His tone makes me shiver.Why would he say that? I wasn’t in any danger from him… then it dawns.Alexei doesn’t trust himself with me.The tension amps up a thousand degrees.I force my mind away from that train of thought, digging through last night.It could’ve easily been a hallucination supported by alcohol, but I’m sure of what I saw. Even though I couldn’t tell how long the figure had spent at my doorway, I know it had been real.My hands clutch my bag.A real person, not Alexei, had been inside my house while I was vulnerable.My breath comes faster.“Those men… do you think?”“Whoever it was is go
꧁ Marisella ꧂Without Sonya’s presence to dilute the tension, it swells, trapping me in a dense bubble of anxiety.Alexei and I in an enclosed space always spells disaster. The knowledge of what he’d witnessed me do last night is a hot knot in my throat.I can already feel my stomach tightening, my chest thick as I try—and fail, to calm my nerves.But then something else suffuses the suffocating air. Alexei’s eyes shift to meet mine in the rearview.Ice slides down my spine.Only then do I realize he’s been mentally absent this whole time. We’ve been driving almost ten minutes after leaving Sonya, and Alexei is only present with me now.How deep had his mind gone to completely erase his intoxicating soul? Had he been thinking about last night?My face prickles with a searing blush.His eyes flick up again to glance at me, so dark. So deep.They spell danger. Inevitable, thrumming danger.It’s all too much.“What do you think you’re doing?” I snap. “You’ve been here barely a week and
𖤓 Alexei 𖤓 I now understand how the farmer feels.Watching your lamb waltz right into wolf territory, with zero sense of preservation or awareness.The men in this club watch Marisella like hounds eyeing a searing cut of tenderloin. Drooling. Eyes dilated and rapt.Even the women throw varying glances of envy and admiration her way.When I’d managed to tear my own hypnotized gaze from her, I’d counted too many men—dozens, courting death with their eyes.A ball of heat expands in my chest. I don’t know who better to unleash my rage on.The undeserving audience, or my daring, stubborn stepsister.Her dance is sin.The way her body moves pushes the song to the background as her hips chase a rhythm of their own.Since the night of the hotel, I’ve watched her distance herself, if not physically, then emotionally.She’s having more luck fighting this forbidden pull than I am—Before the thought can settle, I crush it with an unforgiving mental fist.I’d been in the middle of gathering in
꧁ Marisella ꧂Sonya’s magnetic personality comes in handy once more at Vanity, the nightclub she’d chosen for tonight.A peck on the cheek here, a flirtatious hug to a bouncer there, and we’re in.I hadn’t even gotten the chance to flash the ID that shows I’m 22.My coach bag holds nothing but my camera, phone, lip gloss, and pepper spray. All brand new, courtesy of the 50k Alexei had thrown at me five days ago, like some whore.At least not a cheap one.One half of my brain laughs at the joke while the other half cringes at how crass it is.Once we’re in, heads begin to turn.I’m not modest enough to downplay the fact that Sonya and I are in the top 1% of goddess tier women here.She walks deeper into the space, pulling me along. Her blonde hair, pulled into a messy bun, gleams with health in the pulsing lights, giving a girl-next-door vibe.Wide, round hips sway with every step, the chain of her necklace dripping a string of gems down her exposed back.And me?My dress ends a few mi
꧁ Marisella ꧂I wake up to an empty house, a raging hangover, and a text from Sonya.Sonya: About that rosé *eyes emojiMari: Finally have time for me?Sonya: Don’t be petty. Makeover x slutty dancing at the club.Mari: Maybe. *grumbling stickerMaybe? More like yes please and thank you.My fingers tremble as I pack a small overnight bag. Camera, underwear, spare cash. Anything else I could possibly need, I’ll borrow from Sonya.No matter how hard I try to ignore the situation, mortification pounds in my skull, demanding attention.What have I done?I’ll never get Alexei out of my mind now. And whatever crumb of respect he had for me must’ve gone up in flames.I’d been caught red-handed writhing to my stepbrother’s name. By said stepbrother.The heat of embarrassment roars in my veins, teeth gritting through the panic.After I’d seen the solid outline of him pass my open bedroom door, I’d lain in bed, too drunk to think. Paralyzed by my orgasm, I hadn’t even moved to close my door.
꧁ Marisella ꧂ Mari: Hold your breeches, bitches. I got a freelance contract agreement with PRISM! 5 minutes later. Sonya: No way, really? Omg so happy for you. Congrats, wife. Now you can retire me like I deserve… *beach emoji Mari: You know it! Come over, let’s celebrate. I got your favorite. Sonya: A brownskinned tech bro? *eyes emoji I roll my eyes, tugging the wine bottle out of its box. The Uber revs beneath me as the driver picks up speed past a green light, and I take a photo of the Miraval Rosé. Pale pink and glistening under Miami’s night lights, the bottle signifies a turning point in my life. I finally have an actual job that I love. I’ve transitioned from struggling artist and waitress to freelance. In one day. All thanks to Alexei. At the mere thought of him, my breath shudders in my chest. Out of mind. Out of mind. A text notification distracts me. Sonya: Rosé! Ugh, I wish I could come, but I’m hung up at the moment. Reschedule? I’ll make it up







