All Chapters of Forbidden By Her Mafia Stepbrother : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The mafia welcome gala was less than twenty-four hours away, and the entire Hierro estate felt like a powder keg waiting to explode.Viola sat on the edge of her small bed, her entire body aching with a deep, dull exhaustion. For the past two days, she had scrubbed, polished, and carried heavy linens across the estate under her mother's ruthless orders. She had spent every waking second looking over her shoulder, terrified of running into David in the hallways, and equally desperate to avoid any sign of Sebastian.She hadn't seen him since she fled his private suite. She was immensely thankful for his absence, but the heavy memory of his hand on her jaw still made her pulse race in a way that scared her.All she wanted was to fade into the background. She had no desire to attend the gala tomorrow night. She knew how these events worked—she would be shoved into a corner, completely ignored, or paraded around only for Octavia to verbally humiliate her.The heavy wooden door to her bedro

The fever had settled deep into her bones long before the sun went down. Viola sat shivering on the edge of her mattress, her entire body burning with a dry, suffocating heat from the freezing rain the day before. Her head throbbed with a dull, heavy ache, and every breath she drew felt like swallowing broken glass. The heavy wooden door swung open without a knock. Octavia and Vanessa walked into the tiny room. Vanessa looked flawless in a custom, floor-length black gown. Draped over her arm was the cheap, neon-red mini dress. "Get up," her mother commanded, her voice as cold as the marble floors. Viola weakly pushed herself to her feet, her legs trembling so violently she had to grip the bedpost. "Mother, please," she whispered, her voice raw and cracked. "I'm sick. My head is burning. I can't—" "I do not care if you are dying," her mother snapped, stepping forward with venom in her eyes. "Rafael has important guests arriving, and you are going to be useful for once in you

The cold air in the west wing corridor hit Viola’s flushed skin like ice. She slumped against the marble wall, her chest pulling in shallow, uneven breaths. The gold lights from the distant ballroom blurred at the edges of her vision, but the man blocking her path remained entirely in focus.Sebastian didn't step forward to help her. He stayed where he was, simply watching her. The faint spark of his silver lighter briefly illuminated the sharp lines of his face before he snapped it shut. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, his amber eyes studying her through the dim light."Nice dance, Dulzura," he said, his voice flat and laced with mocking amusement. "I didn't know my stepsister knew how to put on a show."Viola flinched. Her throat was painfully dry. She tried to form a word, to defend herself, but her head spun so badly the floor felt uneven. Unable to speak, she just dropped her gaze to the floorboards.Sebastian didn't let her hide. He stepped into her space, the sharp scen

The heavy silk sheets felt wrong.Viola stared at the unfamiliar dark oak ceiling, her pulse thumping against her throat. Her brain was thick with fever, the events of the night returning in sharp, broken fragments. The blinding lights of the ballroom. Giovanni’s heavy hand digging into her waist. Running into the freezing corridor.And then... him.She remembered gripping Sebastian's shirt, her face pressed into the hard muscle of his bare chest as she begged him to hide her. She remembered the terrifying, dead calm in his voice when he threatened to have Giovanni’s legs broken. And then, just the dark.A fresh wave of horror washed over her.If her mother or Vanessa found out she had spent the night in the cartel boss’s private suite, they wouldn’t just punish her. They would kill her. The scandal alone would be enough for Rafael to throw her out onto the street.She had to leave. Now.Viola scrambled to the edge of the mattress, throwing the thick blankets off her legs. Her bare fe

Viola woke to a dull, heavy ache behind her eyes and a sour taste of medicine on her tongue. Her body felt hollowed out, like someone had scooped the strength straight from her bones and left only the shell. The fever had broken a little, but a weak chill still clung to her skin.She pushed herself upright slowly. The small room looked the same as always—cracked paint, thin curtains, the crooked little wardrobe—but something inside her felt different, off-balance. Every time she blinked, she saw flashes of the night before. Giovanni’s hand bruising her waist. The corridor. Sebastian’s shirt under her fingers. The smell of smoke and whisky and skin.Viola squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the images away. It didn’t matter. None of that mattered now.If she didn’t get up and go downstairs, her mother would come up here and drag her by the hair. Fever or no fever.She swung her legs over the side of the bed. The floor was freezing under her bare feet. Slowly, she stood, waiting for her vis