Forbidden to Love My Stepbrother

Chapter 4

“Freya, darling, how are you?” Her voice is like music, no wonder, she’s one of the most famous music stars alive, despite her age. My stepmom. Grey’s mother. She plucks the glass from my hand and sets it back down.

“Hi, Mom," I grind my teeth, irritation climbing through my chest like a kindled flame. “What are you doing?”

“Sweetie, do you understand tonight’s importance?” she asks through a clean celebrity smile, waving like royalty to guests who throw me sideways glances.

“I do.” I answer, itching for that glass of wine.

“Then behave yourself.” She turns me slightly, hiding us from the crowd, her eyes darting down to my cleavage. “Couldn’t you have worn something less…scandalous?”

I roll my eyes. Despite being Wife and ex-wife, my mom and my stepmom share one brain apparently. Scandalous? Please. So the neckline dips low. I’m still decent.

“You wanted me here. I’m here. What else do you want?”

Her thick black hair is Grey’s too; his good looks are all hers. But their eyes are different. Hers are deep green, shifting between firm and bubbly. Except never with me. For me, they’ve always been stern. Scolding. From the time I was a child.

“Just keep your hands off the wine,” she said through a thin smile, pulling the slit of my gown, a failed attempt to cover my thighs.

" Try to behave, hmm? Please?” She gives me one more cutting once-over before gliding away.

God. Why do they all treat me like a walking catastrophe? Like I poison the air simply by existing. So I’m supposed to survive this circus sober?

The speaker’s voice booms through the hall, followed by applause that ripples around me. I roll my eyes for the nth time, pivot, and catch Miles’ gaze.

He smiles for a fraction of a second before it vanishes, gone like smoke. I scoff, turn, and head toward the food.

“Hey, Freya.” A guy approaches as I pop a canapé into my mouth. He looks vaguely familiar. I squint. “Who are you again?”

“Come on, you don’t remember me? It’s Scott. Scott Sanders?” His eyes warm, sliding over me like he’s undressing me in public. “Did you know your mom’s been trying to get us to meet for a while?”

“I don’t doubt it,” I say flatly, knowing which mom he means.

“I’m game if you are.” He leans closer, his breath stinking of wine and something else against my ear. “I think you’re very sexy.”

My face twists with disgust. “Does that usually work on the sluts you pick up?”

His expression blanks instantly. I turn away, scanning for better food, when his hand clamps my arm. He hisses against my ear, “Do you think you’re any better than those sluts?”

Invading my space is something I only allow one man to do, and this asshole is not him. My hand shoots up and I jab my fingers straight into his eyes.

He yowls, clutching his face. “My eyes!”

The room gasps. Heads swivel toward us. My gaze locks with Grey’s across the room. His jaw is tight and his stare isn't pleasant. I shrug. This is not my fault, who told him not to respect social boundaries. Piece of s**t.

“You b***h!” Scott staggers forward, vision intact enough to lunge at me. I dodge. He slams into the food table, sending trays and crystal crashing, food splattering across the polished floor. Gasps rise higher.

Shit.

I back away as he stumbles after me, hands clawing the air. I’m ready to nail him in the balls when Grey appears, seizing him by my necklace like a rabid dog.

Scott flails, but he isn’t even up to Grey’s shoulder.

Idiot.

I flash Grey a grin. He answers with that grim, dark stare of his. Doesn’t faze me, until Johanna appears behind him like a wraith, her fury searing the air. My stomach drops, I swallow.

The second we’re alone, she slaps me across my face, splitting my lip open. Pain bursts from my face, blood pooling instantly on my tongue.

“What is wrong with you? Don’t you have any self-control?” she screams, trembling with rage.

Where my father and stepmom are cold, Johanna has always been hot, hard and hands-on. I breathe through my mouth and meet her eyes with a smile.

“Sorry, Mom, for ruining your little setup. I told you, I’m not dating or marrying anyone you pick for me.”

“You’re still talking back?” Her hand lifts again. I don’t flinch, though every nerve braces. It doesn’t land, Grey catches her wrist, his grip halting her mid-swing.

“Please, Freya,” she says, like she is begging and at the end of her rope with me. “for the love of God, stop causing problems for me. My patience is running out.”

She jerks free, then turns to Grey. “Talk to your sister. She only listens to you.” And she storms off, no doubt to apologize to that asshole’s parents. I should’ve gone for his balls when I had the chance.

Grey steps in close, grabs my chin, and turns my head toward the side she slapped. His thumb presses into the red mark before he shoves my face away. “You deserved it,” he says flatly.

“He was flirting with me,” I counter, smiling as I edge closer. “You hate that.”

My hands slide around his back, my cheek pressed to his chest. The throb in my lip dulls against the warmth of him. Finally. The hug I’ve wanted for years.

“Freya– ”

“Call me Luna,” I whisper, tilting my face up. “Like you used to.”

His eyes stay cold. His arms hang rigid at his sides.

“Why are you acting like this? Did I do something?” I search his gaze, desperate. “That’s impossible, we haven’t spoken in seven years. I sent messages, Grey. You read them. You never replied. Why?”

Grey exhales, his hands clamp my shoulders and shove me back. “I tried to let you down easy, but it looks like I’ll have to spell it out for you.”

His eyes glint with a cruel light. “Freya, I feel absolutely nothing for you. I don’t want to be anything more than your stepbrother. Whatever puppy love or crush you’ve built up, let it go.”