Eighteen
955 Words
Aubree’s POV — “Eighteen”
If I had known that turning eighteen would flip my entire world upside down, I might’ve stayed in bed.
Or at least worn something less… noticeable.
But Aunt Shelly insisted the white silk dress “brings out my eyes,” and Sabrina my mom curled my hair to perfection, and before I knew it.
I was standing at the top of the Moretti mansion staircase, heart pounding as every set of eyes turned toward me.
But I only cared about two.
Abel and Carter.
They stood near the bar like they always did—together, shoulder to shoulder, opposites but the same.
Both in sharp black suits. Both watching me with expressions I couldn’t read.
At least… not at first.
Abel’s jaw dropped slightly.
Carter’s fingers tightened around his glass.
And my pulse… yeah, it definitely skipped a beat.
Mom whispered behind me, “They’re staring, sweetheart.”
She had no idea.
The twins weren’t just staring.
They were devouring.
I clutched the banister and forced myself down the stairs, trying to pretend the butterflies in my stomach weren’t there…
or weren’t specifically shaped like two mafia heirs who should not be looking at me like that.
The moment my heels touched the floor, Abel moved first.
Of course he did.
He crossed the room like a storm—fast, reckless, a little dangerous—and stopped so close I could feel the heat rolling off him.
“Happy birthday, Bree.” His voice was rough, deeper than usual.
I swallowed. “Thanks.”
He looked me up and down, slow and shameless, and for the first time in my life I felt his gaze like a physical touch.
“You shouldn’t wear dresses like this,” he murmured.
My stomach flipped. “Why not?”
His eyes darkened.
“Because I’m gonna break someone’s nose tonight.”
Before I could answer—or tease him, or breathe—Carter appeared on my other side. He didn’t touch me, didn’t say anything possessive.
He didn’t have to.
He simply offered his hand.
“Dance with me, Aubree?”
I froze.
Abel tensed.
Carter’s gaze stayed calm… but not cold. Not tonight. Tonight he looked at me like I was the only thing in the room that mattered.
My throat went dry. “I—sure.”
His hand swallowed mine, warm, steady, familiar.
He led me to the dance floor, his movements smooth, practiced. He pulled me close—but not too close. Never too close.
Carter was always careful with me.
Until now.
“Abel’s losing his mind,” he murmured, eyes dropping to my lips for half a second—just long enough to make my heart race. “I can feel it from here.”
“You’re not?” I whispered back.
His mouth twitched, almost a smile.
“I’m better at hiding it.”
He spun me gently beneath his arm. My hair brushed his fingers, and for the first time in my life, Carter Moretti looked… shaken.
“Aubree,” he said softly, “you look…”
He struggled.
Actually struggled.
“Beautiful,” he finished.
Heat bloomed behind my ribs. “Thank you.”
We danced through one song… then another. Abel didn’t take his eyes off us.
People swirled around the room, but every time Carter’s hand slid down my waist or my body brushed his chest, Abel’s expression hardened.
Trouble.
He was trouble walking.
And he was coming straight for us.
The moment the song ended, Abel was there.
He didn’t ask for a turn.
He claimed one.
“My turn,” he growled, pulling me away from Carter with a swiftness that made my breath hitch. His hand locked around my waist, possessive, burning.
“Abel—”
“You said you liked dancing.” His voice was a low, dangerous whisper. “Dance with me.”
And I did.
I didn’t even have a choice.
My body just… moved with his.
Like it always had.
Like it belonged to him.
His breath hit my neck. “You’re eighteen now.”
I shivered. “So?”
“So I’m done pretending I don’t want you.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Abel—”
He tilted my chin up, eyes blazing.
“Tell me to stop.”
I couldn’t.
I didn’t.
The world blurred as he leaned in—
But then Carter grabbed his shoulder.
“Enough,” Carter warned, voice deadly calm.
Abel didn’t look away from me.
“Back off, Carter.”
“Not happening.”
The music continued, but the room felt frozen—two brothers, two storms, colliding over one girl.
“Don’t start,” I whispered desperately.
Abel’s eyes were still locked on mine.
“Bree… you don’t understand.”
He lowered his forehead to mine.
Everything inside me turned molten.
“I’ve wanted you for years,” he breathed. “And tonight—God, Aubree—I almost kissed you when you walked down those stairs.”
My pulse stuttered.
Carter’s voice broke, soft but sharp.
“You think you’re the only one?”
Abel’s head snapped toward him. “Don’t.”
Carter stepped closer, eyes burning—not cold at all now.
“I’ve loved her longer than you have.”
My entire body went weightless.
The twins glared at each other like the world was cracking open between them and they were about to go after each other like hungry wolves.
And in that exact moment, I realized:
This wasn’t a shift.
This wasn’t a crush.
This wasn’t a passing spark.
This was the beginning of a war—
and I was stuck right in the very center of it.
- Writer
