Ravaged By My Cold-Hearted Stepbrothers
The lake house was already loud by the time we got there, string lights strung across the yard, music thumping from somewhere inside, half the campus spilling out onto the deck with cups in hand.
We’d barely made it through the front gate when Octavia, Gabriela, and Jessica peeled off from a cluster near the drinks table and cut us off.
“It’s a party, Zuri,” Gabriela said, looking me up and down, “not a church revival.”
“She looks like somebody’s grandma,” Octavia said, and the three of them laughed together, that same practiced, ugly sound.
“Watch it.” Mira stepped forward before I could say anything.
Gabriela’s eyes slid over to her, unimpressed. “And who the hell are you?”
Bab Populer