All Chapters of A Night With My Stepbrother : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The suite door clicked shut behind him Isabel stayed pressed against the bathroom wall, her pulse pounding against her ribs like a warning. Her lips tingled from the kiss that hadn’t happened—so close it still felt real. And worse: she’d wanted it. Wanted him. She pressed trembling fingers to her mouth. What scared her most wasn’t the nearness. It was how quickly her resolve had shattered. He was dangerous in every sense. And she was losing the ability to pretend otherwise. ————— The midday sun spread golden light across Villa Aurelia like a spotlight on a stage. The pool shimmered at the edge of the marble terrace, blue and glittering and deep. Everything here was luxurious, but cold—meant to be looked at, not touched. Isabel sat stiffly on a lounger under the shade of a linen umbrella. Her sunglasses shielded her eyes, but not from the tension coiled in her chest. Her fingers clenched the chilled stem of a mocktail she hadn’t touched. Every now and then, her gaze flicked to t

The room was dark when Isabel stepped inside, the only light a soft glow from the hallway sifting in through the open door behind her. She closed it gently, careful not to make a sound. Her nerves were still frayed from the rooftop bar, from the way Alessandro had looked at her—like she wasn’t an inconvenience or a puzzle, but a storm he wanted to drown in. She half-expected him to be asleep. But he wasn’t. He sat in the corner chair, one arm draped lazily over the side, a half-empty glass of wine in his hand. His tie was gone. Top buttons undone. Hair a little too tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. “You’re back,” he said, voice low. “I live here,” she said, already moving toward her side of the room. Her heart wouldn’t slow down. “Sort of.” Alessandro laughed softly. “Sort of,” he echoed. “Story of us.” She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She grabbed a glass from the minibar and poured herself some of the same wine. It was probably a thousand dol

The day passed in a daze. After breakfast with Albert, where too many truths had been spoken and not enough forgiven, Isabel retreated to the quiet corner of the resort’s private garden, needing the sanctuary of silence. Her father’s words lingered—soft with regret, heavy with time lost. She didn’t know how to carry them. They sat on her shoulders like a second skin, warm and uncomfortable. She’d looked into his eyes and, for the first time in years, seen a man instead of a failure. Still, she wasn’t ready to call it healing. Just… a beginning. By late afternoon, the Sicilian sun had begun to stretch gold across the terracotta tiles of the villa, casting long, languid shadows through the open doors of their suite. Isabel had been curled on the chaise near the window, a book resting on her lap, unread for hours. She’d tried not to think of Alessandro. Tried not to replay the moment he’d stopped—lips parted, breath ragged, his forehead pressed to hers like it took everything in him

Balcony, post-storm rain The suite door clicked softly behind her. Isabel stood still, the silence of the room pressing in like fog. Her heart was still galloping, the ghost of Alessandro’s voice—Next time you beg, I won’t stop—echoing through her like a drumbeat she couldn’t silence. She exhaled, shaky. The tension still clung to her like heat, but it was quiet now, suffocating in a different way. Then she heard it—the soft, steady sound of rain. Not thunder, not chaos. Just the patter of it, as if the world outside had finally stopped holding its breath. Her eyes drifted toward the open balcony door. The wind had pushed it ajar. The sheer curtains fluttered like breath. And beyond them, the scent of the sea mingled with the fresh coolness of a late-night drizzle. She walked slowly, her bare feet sinking into the thick carpet as she moved toward the sound. Her dress was still damp from earlier, clinging to her in places, and her skin prickled with the chill that had settled in t

Vivian froze in the doorway, her sharp inhale cutting through the silence like a blade. “Oh—” Vivian’s voice was barely audible, just a breath of surprise wrapped in polite horror. “I—I’m sorry.” She backed out, the door shutting with a soft click. Alessandro sat up, scrubbed a hand through his messy hair, and muttered, “I’ll handle her.” Isabel didn’t move. Her chest felt heavy, like something irreversible had just happened. And it had. She looked at Alessandro, his arm still slung across her waist, bare skin against bare skin. Isabel blinked, disoriented and slow, the fog of sleep clinging to her like smoke. She’d given herself to him—every piece. And now the real world had cracked through their private little dream. ————— Later that morning Soft light filtered through gauzy curtains, painting the room in golden watercolor. The sound of waves crashing just beyond the balcony pulsed in the background, steady and soft like a lullaby. Isabel stirred, warm and weightless, coc