All Chapters of Forbidden Step Brother : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The kiss was different from the library.That had been desperate, stolen, tinged with guilt and fear. This was deliberate. A choice we were both making with open eyes.Marcus kissed me slowly, thoroughly, like we had all the time in the world. His hands slid from my face to my hair, gentle but possessive. I melted into him, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer.When we finally broke apart, both breathless, his forehead rested against mine."I've been thinking about doing that for twenty-three days," he murmured."You counted?""Every single one." His thumb traced my jaw. "Longest three weeks of my life.""Mine too."We stood there, wrapped in each other, until reality slowly crept back in. We were really doing this. Secret relationship. Complicated family dynamics. All of it."We should talk," I said reluctantly. "Figure out how this works."Marcus nodded, stepping back but keeping my hand in his. He led me to the couch, and we sat facing each other."Ground rules," he sa

Lunch was torture.Marcus sat across from me, engaging Richard in conversation about Tokyo markets while my mother asked me about school. We were perfectly polite, perfectly normal, and I wanted to scream.Every time Marcus's eyes flicked to me, I felt it like a physical touch. When he reached for the salt at the same time I did, our fingers brushed for half a second—and it took everything in me not to react."So Marcus," Mom said brightly, "any interesting people in Tokyo? A girlfriend perhaps?"I nearly choked on my water."No girlfriends, Eleanor. Too busy working." Marcus's smile was easy, practiced. "Though there was a woman at the hotel—very persistent.""Oh really?" Mom's matchmaking instincts activated. "Was she nice?""She was fine. Not my type.""What is your type?" Richard asked, amused.Marcus's eyes met mine for a fraction of a second. "I guess I'm still figuring that out."The doorbell rang, saving us from further interrogation."I'll get it," Richard said, standing.Voi

The next two weeks were agony.Every time my phone buzzed, I expected it to be Amber. Every family dinner felt like waiting for a bomb to explode. Marcus and I barely saw each other except in passing—we'd agreed to lay low after the blackmail incident.But the distance was killing us both.This sucks - I texted him one Thursday night.Tell me about it. You're 50 feet away and it might as well be 50 miles.Can we really do this for six more months? Or however long until we can be open?We have to.But do we? Maybe we should just tell them. Rip the band-aid off.Aria, you're just frustrated. You don't mean that.Don't I?He didn't respond for several minutes. Then: Do you want out? Because if this is too hard—No. That's not what I meant.Then what DID you mean?I stared at my phone, trying to articulate the restlessness that had been building. I mean I hate sneaking around. I hate lying to my mom. I hate that we have to pretend to be just family when I want to kiss you at dinner and ho

Marcus's "war" against Amber started subtly.First, the gossip chat was mysteriously flooded with fake accounts posting contradicting stories—Marcus dating someone in Tokyo, me being seen with Ethan, the whole stepsibbling thing being a sick joke by Amber. Within forty-eight hours, the thread was so polluted with misinformation that the original rumors seemed baseless.Then Amber's Instagram posts started disappearing. Not deleted by her—removed for "violating community guidelines." Someone had mass-reported every photo of Marcus's apartment building."How did you do that?" I asked him over text.I know people. Don't ask questions.Marcus...Do you want her stopped or not?Yes, but legally.This IS legal. I'm just using the system.But I could tell there was more he wasn't saying.The real bomb dropped Thursday afternoon.I was in the campus coffee shop when I overheard two girls talking."Did you see what happened to Amber Preston?""No, what?""Apparently someone leaked photos of he

The coffee after the art exhibit was when things unraveled.Ethan and I found a quiet café, settling into a corner booth. He ordered us both lattes, chatting about the exhibits we'd seen, seemingly oblivious to my distraction.Then he got serious."Aria, I need to ask you something. And I need you to be honest."My stomach dropped. "Okay...""Are you in love with someone else?"Direct. No preamble."Why would you ask that?""Because you're here but not really here. You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes. And at the gallery—when you saw that guy with the Asian woman—you looked like someone had punched you.""I don't know what—""It was Marcus, wasn't it? Your stepbrother."The words hung between us.I could deny it. Should deny it.Instead, exhausted from weeks of lying, I said: "Yes."Ethan sat back, processing. "So the rumors are true.""It's not—it's complicated.""I'm sure it is." His voice wasn't angry, just sad. "Does he feel the same?""Yes.""And the woman he's with?""Fake.