All Chapters of MATED TO HER ALPHA STEPBROTHERS: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

BROOKSI stared at her, waiting for one of them to laugh and say it was just a joke—a messed-up one—but a joke nonetheless.But Aaron was smiling.That same slow, malicious smile I used to mistake for charm.There was no joke. Just reality.They were blackmailing me. "You’re blackmailing me." The words left my mouth, flat and disbelieving. “Please,” Chia snorted, tossing her hair over her shoulder like this was all some big joke. “Don’t flatter yourself.”“Call this an incentive to support us in a big way for our big day,” Aaron said, that malicious smile still playing on his lips. While I was literally falling apart. I had stood by both of them. Loved Chia like blood. Let her into every part of my life. I had been there when she was broken. When she had nothing. When no one else gave a damn.My throat locked up. My entire body was shaking. “You were my best friend.” My voice was shaking, tears welling up my eyes. Chia rolled her eyes at me while Aaron scoffed.“Seriously? You are

BROOKS“I’m not done with you yet.”Fuck!My body was still trembling, mouth still open, breath still ragged. Heath let one of my legs slide down from his shoulder, and it wobbled the second it touched the floor. Useless. Boneless. My fingers had gone numb from gripping the counter so tight. Without a word, Heath grabbed my hips and spun me around. I gasped— sharp, breathless— just before he bent me over the marble counter. My cheek pressed against the cold surface, skin flushed, pulse hammering in my throat.“Heath—” I started, but my voice broke off as he stepped in close behind me. One of his hands slid up my spine, firm and grounding, and the other was already at his waistband.“Fuck! You look so good bent over like a slut,” he rasped, voice rough and low in my ear.His zipper came down with a sound that made my core clench around nothing. I was still dripping, still open from his tongue.I heard the rustle of fabric, and then the blunt tip of him— his cock, thick and heavy— p

BROOKSIt had been two weeks.Two whole weeks of living with that sick, sour anxiety sitting in the pit of my stomach. Two weeks of lying awake at night, hearing the echo of my own moans in that damn video every time I closed my eyes. Two weeks of smiling at my coworkers while panic churned beneath my skin.I didn’t get the money as my mum promised me… maybe Stephan had something to do with it, I don’t know. But I didn’t get it.But after Friday, when I didn’t see any video online, I thought maybe, just maybe, things had cooled down. Maybe Chia and Aaron had found something better to do than dangle my life over my head.I was wrong.I stepped into my office that morning like normal, juggling my tablet and iced coffee, only to freeze mid-step.Chia was sitting in my chair. Legs crossed. A smirk on her lips like this was her throne.I dropped the coffee.It splattered across the marble floor, a creamy mess, but I barely noticed.“What the fuck,” I breathed, slamming the door shut beh

BROOKSI walked briskly down the stone-paved street outside the gallery, heels clicking a little too loudly in the near silence of the night.Humiliation burned hot in my chest, spreading like a rash.Why the hell did he hate me so much!What did I ever do to Stephan Romano?Tears burned at the corners of my eyes by I forced it down.Fuck this!Stephan Romano doesn’t get to humiliate me in front of strangers and walk away with my tears as trophies.Not tonight.I dug into my purse, fumbling with my phone to hail a cab, but my hand was trembling, and the app wouldn't load fast enough.“Brooks.”I turned, startled. Zade stood there just a few steps away, looking at me with something akin to concern.“I’m fine,” I said quickly, swiping under my eye again. “I’m just gonna head home.”“You’re not fine.”“I don’t need a babysitter,” I tried to scoff, but my voice cracked. “Go back inside. It’s your show.”“They’ll survive,” he said calmly, hands in his pockets. “You on the other hand…”“I’l

BROOKSZade’s studio was nothing like I imagined.It was tucked behind a quiet street, hidden behind a matte black door with no sign, just a single white “Z” scrawled on the wall beside it.He unlocked it with a keycard and stepped aside for me to enter first.I walked in… and my breath caught.It was huge— open and airy, with floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the moonlight. The walls were bare concrete, left unfinished, with hints of exposed brick and steel beams running across the ceiling.The floors were polished black cement, scuffed in places by the drag of easels and boots. It smelled faintly of paint and wood and something warm— like cedar and clean cotton.The space had a quiet energy, like a room that had been soaked in hours of solitude and creation.One wall was completely covered with sketches pinned up in organized chaos— portraits, abstract pieces, full scenes of color and darkness.Another had half-finished canvases leaned in a row, each more expressive than the last