Scarlett
The morning light cuts too brightly through the curtains, stabbing at my eyes. My throat aches, raw from crying, my head pounding from how long I buried it under the pillow, whispering lies I didn’t believe.
For a moment, I let myself imagine it’ll be normal again. Mum fussing in the kitchen. Dad reading the paper. Kai—
I stop myself before the thought finishes.
I drag on shorts and a sweatshirt, shove my hair into a messy knot, and pad down the stairs, praying for noise. For normal. For someone else to fill the air that feels too heavy.
But it’s only him.
Kai stands at the counter, pouring black coffee into a chipped mug, the veins in his forearms sharp beneath his skin. His shirt clings to him, wrinkled, the marks I left last night faint but there. My stomach twists — hot and sick — all over again.
I glance around, desperate. ‘Where’s Mum? Dad?’
He doesn’t look at me when he answers. ‘Gone.’
My chest tightens. ‘Gone?’
His voice is flat, cold — like ice scraping glass. ‘They left early this morning. Visiting friends out of town. Won’t be back till next week.’
The floor drops out from under me. One week. Alone in this house. With him.
My stomach knots tighter, shame tangling with heat. Great. Just fucking great. Stuck with my hot stepbrother all week.
I cross my arms, trying to steady my voice. ‘So… what now?’
Kai finally looks at me, blue eyes cutting sharp. ‘What now is I’m throwing a party tonight. Big one. My rules. My people. So make yourself scarce.’
The words slam into me like a slap. I bite the inside of my cheek, heat rising in my chest. ‘Excuse me?’
‘You’re not invited,’ he says, turning back to his coffee like I’m nothing. ‘Stay out of the way.’
The sting settles deep, burning, but I don’t let him see it. I stand there in the quiet, fists curling tight, heart pounding hard enough to hurt.
Alone.
A week.
And I’m not invited.
The sting of his dismissal crawls under my skin, hot and sharp, but I force my shoulders back, my voice steady even as my stomach twists.
‘Good,’ I snap, crossing my arms tighter. ‘I don’t care. I’ve got a date, anyway.’
The lie tastes bitter, but I spit it like venom, watching his shoulders stiffen as the words land.
Slowly, he sets his mug down on the counter — the ceramic hitting a little too hard. He doesn’t turn right away, doesn’t give me the satisfaction of his eyes, but the air shifts: colder. Heavier.
My pulse kicks.
He finally looks over his shoulder at me, blue eyes sharp enough to cut. ‘A date.’
I lift my chin, meeting his glare even though my throat feels tight. ‘Yeah. With someone who actually wants me there.’
The corner of his mouth twitches, but it isn’t a smile. It’s something darker — something that makes my skin prickle. He drags a hand over his jaw, his voice low, dangerous.
‘Careful, little sister.’
I swallow hard, nails digging crescents into my palms, but I don’t look away. I can’t, because even as the shame burns me alive, a sick part of me wants him to snap.
He doesn’t ask who. Doesn’t ask where. Doesn’t even twitch. He just picks his mug back up, takes a slow drink, and stares out the kitchen window like I’m nothing more than background noise.
The chill of it slices deeper than any fight ever could.
My chest squeezes, heat clawing up my throat, but I force the words out anyway. ‘Kai… are we going to talk about the car?’
That gets him. He sets the mug down again carefully, shoulders rigid. When he finally turns, his eyes are ice.
‘Why?’ His voice is low, flat, lethal in its calm. ‘You wanted to pretend. You wanted to forget. You wanted normal, remember?’
The words slam into me one by one, and for a second, I can’t breathe.
My mouth opens, closes, shame and anger tangling on my tongue. ‘I just—’
He cuts me off, stepping closer, his stare pinning me in place. ‘You made your choice, Scarlett. You don’t get to dig it back up now.’
Cold. Detached. Like nothing happened. Like I didn’t grind against him until my thighs shook. Like I didn’t whisper filth in his ear. Like I haven’t been burning ever since.
And it hurts more than I want to admit.
He turns as if he’s going to walk away, but I can’t stand it — the silence, the coldness, the way he pretends I don’t exist. My chest feels like it’s splitting, heat clawing up my throat until I can’t hold it back.
‘Look at me,’ I snap, my voice cracking, sharper than I meant. ‘Stop pretending nothing happened. Stop—stop acting like I’m invisible. Say something.’
Slowly, he does. Blue eyes lock onto mine — glacial, unreadable — and for a second, the weight of them almost buckles me.
Then he speaks, voice low, flat, merciless. ‘It was nothing, Scarlett. A mistake.’
My breath catches, my stomach dropping, but he doesn’t stop.
‘Brothers don’t do that to their sisters. I lost control for a second. That’s all it was. A moment of weakness.’ He tilts his head, his mouth curving in something that isn’t quite a smile. ‘You got what you wanted. Congratulations. But don’t get confused.’
The words slice sharper than any slap.
‘You’re my sister,’ he finishes, each syllable cold enough to freeze me in place. ‘That’s all.’
The air between us crackles, heavy, poisonous, and I feel like the floor just gave out beneath me — because the truth is, nothing about it felt like a mistake. Not to me.
And hearing him say it hurts worse than if he’d struck me.
The words echo in my skull — sister, mistake, weakness — like he’s carving them into my skin. My chest heaves, hot tears stinging my eyes, but instead of breaking, I snap.
‘Bullshit!’ I scream, my voice raw, ripping through the kitchen. ‘Don’t you dare stand there and tell me it was nothing. Don’t you dare fucking lie to me.’
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. That cold mask stays welded to his face.
‘You think I didn’t feel you?’ My hands shake as I point at him, throat burning. ‘You think I didn’t feel how hard you were for me? Brothers don’t get hard for their sisters, Kai.’
His eyes flicker — just for a second — before narrowing again, sharp as glass.
I step closer, venom dripping from every word. ‘You called it weakness, but you loved every second. You couldn’t stop groaning in my ear, couldn’t stop dragging me down harder on your cock. That wasn’t weakness.’
His throat bobs, hands curling into fists at his sides.
‘That was you wanting me,’ I spit, voice trembling with fury. ‘So go ahead. Pretend. Play cold. But I know the truth, Kai. I saw it. I felt it. You wanted me.’
The silence after my words is deafening — broken only by the tick of the clock on the wall. His stare burns through me, colder than ice, but his breathing — shallow, uneven — betrays him.
Little cracks in the mask.
And seeing them is the only thing that keeps me standing.
The cracks are there — small, fleeting — but I see them: the tightness around his mouth, the way his chest rises too fast, the twitch in his jaw when I said he wanted me.
And I know how to break him.
I take a step closer. Then another. His eyes track me like a predator, but he doesn’t move back. Doesn’t tell me to stop.
‘You can say it was a mistake all you want,’ I whisper, venom softening into something sharper, darker. ‘But your body doesn’t lie, Kai.’
I reach up before I can stop myself, my hand grazing his chest. His skin warms his shirt, stretching it tight, his heartbeat drumming wild beneath.
He stiffens, jaw locking, but he doesn’t push me away.
I let my fingers trail lower — slow, teasing — feeling the way every muscle in him tenses like a coiled spring ready to snap. My lips curl, mocking. ‘See? Still trembling. Still hard just thinking about it.’
His nostrils flare, a guttural sound caught in his throat.
I lean in close enough that my breath brushes his jaw. ‘You wanted me then. You want me now. And you’ll keep wanting me, no matter how many times you say the word sister.’
For a second, he doesn’t breathe. His fists clench, his body shudders, the mask cracking wider — and I know I’ve cornered him.
My fingers trail lower, brushing his stomach. And that’s when he snaps.
His hands shoot out, iron around my wrists, yanking them up between us. I gasp, the force of it making my chest slam against his, our breaths tangling — hot and sharp.
‘Enough,’ he growls, voice low, ragged, shaking with restraint. His grip tightens until my pulse thrums wildly beneath his fingers. ‘You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.’
I meet his eyes, refusing to look away even as my wrists ache. ‘Don’t I? You’re the one shaking, Kai.’
His jaw clenches so tight it looks painful, breath breaking against my cheek. He drags my wrists higher, pinning them over my head, like he can keep me from reaching him if he just holds me still.
‘You’re my sister,’ he spits, but it comes through gritted teeth — broken, uneven. ‘Say it, Scarlett. Say it so I don’t—’
He cuts himself off, words jagged, eyes burning into mine, and I see it. With the crack wide open now, his denial crumbles even as he tries to choke it down.
My lips curl, trembling but defiant. ‘You can hold my wrists all night, Kai. But it doesn’t change the truth.’
His chest heaves, breath shuddering, grip trembling as though he’s holding back everything he wants to do to me.
And in his silence, I know I’ve won something — because he can’t deny it anymore.
The silence stretches, suffocating, his grip trembling around my wrists. Then, like something inside him snaps, his hand shoots from my wrist to my throat.
My back slams into the wall, plaster rattling, a gasp tearing out of me as his fingers tighten just enough to make my pulse hammer against them. My hands fly up to claw at his arm, but he pins me there, body caging mine in.
His face is inches from mine, eyes blazing blue fire, breath ragged.
‘You’re my sister,’ he hisses — the words a venomous whisper, his thumb pressing harder against my throat. ‘That’s all you’ll ever be.’
The denial cuts sharp and cold, but it’s a lie. I see it — in the way his pupils blow wide, in the tremor of his hand, in the way his chest heaves like he’s fighting for air.
My lips part, a choked sound breaking out of me. ‘Then why do you look like you’re about to—’
His grip tightens, silencing me, his forehead pressing to mine, sweat hot against my skin. ‘Shut up,’ he growls, low and broken. ‘If I admit it… I won’t stop.’
His words vibrate through me — dark and desperate — and for one dizzying second, I can’t tell if it’s his hand on my throat or the truth in his voice that’s stealing my breath.
The pressure of his hand loosens just a fraction, enough for air to scrape back into my lungs. My chest heaves against his, eyes stinging as I force the words out.
‘Kai… it doesn’t have to be like this.’
For a heartbeat, something flickers in his eyes — a crack, a wound, something fragile buried beneath all that fury. His forehead drops to mine, breath hot and ragged, body trembling with restraint that feels one second from snapping.
‘Yes, it does,’ he whispers, voice shredded and raw, like the words are killing him. ‘It has to be.’
His fingers leave my throat and slide down, digging into my waist — rough enough to bruise — pulling me tighter against him until I can feel every uneven beat of his heart, every hard line of his body. His breath shudders against my lips, each exhale more desperate than the last.
I want to tell him he’s wrong, that I can feel the truth in the way his hands hold me like I’m already his, but the words choke in my throat, swallowed by the sound of his breathing — harsh, hungry, broken.
And pressed this close, I know.
He’s lying.
His forehead grinds harder against mine, breath hot, uneven, every exhale shuddering like it’s tearing out pieces of him. His fingers dig into my waist until I know he’ll leave bruises, but he doesn’t let go. He can’t.
‘Fuck…’ The word rips out of him, raw, jagged. His eyes squeeze shut, jaw tight, his whole body trembling against mine.
‘Scarlett.’ My name breaks on his tongue like it’s forbidden. ‘Why can’t you… why can’t you let me forget?’
The whisper brushes my lips, rough and desperate, heavy with all the things he swears aren’t there.
My chest heaves, throat closing. ‘Because it’s not nothing,’ I breathe, even though I shouldn’t. Even though I hate myself for it.
His breath stutters, grip tightening, pulling me closer until the space between us vanishes. His nose skims mine, voice ragged and ruined.
‘It has to be nothing,’ he whispers, almost like a prayer. ‘But fuck, baby sister… it isn’t.’
And the way he says it — low and broken — feels like confession and damnation all at once.
His fingers dig so deep into my waist it almost hurts, his forehead pressed to mine, breath shaking, eyes burning. For a second, I think he’s going to break — that he’s going to close the space, crush the lie, and finally admit it.
But then he rips himself back.
His hands tear from me, his body wrenches away so hard the wall shudders where he slams his fist instead. The sound cracks through the silence, sharp and violent, making me flinch.
‘Fuck!’ His roar is raw, guttural, like it’s being dragged out of his chest. He paces once, twice, dragging his hands through his hair like he wants to rip it out, then whirls on me with eyes still blazing.
‘This can’t happen,’ he snarls, voice breaking under the weight of it. ‘You hear me? It doesn’t. It didn’t. You’re my sister.’
The word cuts sharp, cruel, deliberate.
I press back against the wall, throat tight, body trembling from the ghost of his hands still burning into my skin. I want to scream at him, to tell him he’s lying, to tell him I felt the truth in the way his body pressed to mine.
But he’s already gone — storming past me, shoulders tense, slamming the door behind him so hard the frame rattles.
And I’m left standing in the quiet, pulse hammering, body betraying me all over again.
Because no matter how much he denies it… I know it wasn’t nothing.