All Chapters of WANTING MY STEP—BROTHER : Chapter 11 - Chapter 17

Melanie My eyes widened as I saw two shadows slip into the room. The door didn’t close all the way. It was opened just enough for me to see, the figures moving around the room until they got close where I was standing. At first, there was silence then the kisses picked up again. It was loud. The kind that sounded like two people were trying to suck each other’s faces off. I froze. My spine straightened and all I could think of was; What the hell was going on. The smacking sounds got deafening , echoing like thunder off the walls. I stepped back, hiding by the corner of his wardrobe. I didn’t mean to spy. Seriously. But my body refused to move. I wondered who the girl was. It had to be. Uriela or could it be a new fling. “Fuck…” I heard Dante’s Deep. Rough. and Dangerous voice. My breath paused. Then I inched closer, trying to get a better view of him. When I finally sighted him my eyes widened as I watched the scene play out. He threw the girl on the bed like she was a

Melanie pov I turned to run. My entire body screamed ‘get out’, but I didn’t even make it two steps before I stepped on the glass Dante had smashed on the floor. Pain exploded up my leg as shards stabbed into the soles of my feet piercing my skin. I crumpled down, hissing, my hand flying to my thigh. “Fuck—” I gasped, feeling blood drip from my feet. The back door slammed open, and I saw a figure step into the darkness. It was hard for me to see who it was but I managed to make out the outline of the broad shoulders. It had to be a man…but I knew it wasn’t just any man it was Dario. I didn’t know what to do at that point, running didn’t seem like an option especially when my feet was in a very bad condition. At this point, I knew that I was about to meet my end. Although, as I thought about it, I didn’t really feel that bad. Maybe, this was meant to happen. I had to experience death to atone for all the people I had killed. This was karma. I let out a breath, I didn’t know

Melanie’s point of view I looked at Dante, and my stomach twisted not from fear or even anger. But from embarrassment. “If this is about yesterday,” I started, “I just want you to know I have no—” “I want to move the time of your little departure,” he snapped, cutting me off coldly. I blinked, looking at him. “What?” “I want you and your mother out of this house ,” he said, with a razor-sharp tone. “Right after my father throws his shitty little party.” He stepped closer, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, “This would hurt Federico even more and there’s nothing I desire more than that.” “You’re seriously using me just to hurt Federico?” My voice rose, more shocked than angry. “Do what I want and stop asking me shitty questions,” “This is about your mom, isn’t it? You can’t keep punishing him for something that wasn’t his fault.” His face twisted, fury flashing in his eyes. “Don’t talk about her. You don’t get to talk about my mother.” “I’m just saying—” “Don