Craving my sister’s fiancé

Chapter 12

Daphne’s POV

It would be better if Bella found out about Stefan and me. If she did, calling off the wedding would be easier.

“You need to go f*****g hide,” Stefan whispered, panic seeping into every word. “I’m begging you, Daphne—please hide.”

I nodded lightly and slipped into one of the toilet stalls just as the door opened.

“Are you okay?” Bella asked. There was genuine concern in her voice.

“Yes, I’m good,” Stefan replied.

“You’ve been in here for a while, so I thought…” Bella paused. “Your lips—why is there a lipstick mark?”

My eyes widened. My heart slammed against my chest as I imagined the look on Stefan’s face.

“Yeah,” he said after a beat. “My lips were a little dry, so I used the lipstick you gave me. I guess I didn’t apply it well.”

Bella chuckled, the sound light and unbothered. Moments later, the door closed again.

I stepped out immediately. The mirror reflected a flushed face and eyes that sparkled despite my attempt to calm myself. I fixed my hair, smoothed my clothes, and couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips before leaving the bathroom.

Lunch went well. Adrian couldn’t stop talking about his new project, his hands moving animatedly as he spoke. I nodded at the right moments, but my thoughts were elsewhere—circling back to Stefan and me. He didn’t look at me once for the rest of lunch.

Bella and I went straight home afterward. In my room, I collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. My cheeks burned, sore from how much I’d been smiling.

A sudden knock pulled me upright.

I opened the door to find my mom standing there, a faint smile on her face.

“May I come in?” she asked.

I stepped aside to let her in. My mother never came into my room unless it was important—or she was about to scold me.

“I won’t take much of your time,” she said. “I’m here because I want you to know that a friend of mine and her son will be coming to visit.”

I frowned. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Your sister will be getting married soon,” she continued, her tone firm. “And I need to make sure you follow in her footsteps. I want you to meet this boy, and if there’s a connection, we can start planning your wedding with him.”

My eyes widened. “Are you being f*****g for real, Mom?”

“Mind your language,” she snapped, irritation slipping into her voice.

“You want to plan an arranged marriage for me? Why?” I shot back, my annoyance sharp and unfiltered.

“I don’t want you to go astray more than you already have,” she said coolly. “I saw the s*x toy in your drawer.”

I scoffed, disbelief washing over me at how unreal this sounded.

“Now we’re invading other people’s privacy,” I said, turning away from her. “Tell your friend that I’m not interested,” I added over my shoulder.

“It’s not up to you. I make the decisions, okay, Daphne,” she replied, her voice stern. “I promised your father that I would make sure you and your sister married into the best families, and I intend to keep that promise.”

I burst out laughing, the sound sharp and humorless.

“You also promised him you wouldn’t make us unhappy with our lives,” I said, glaring at her. “So how’s that going?” I stepped closer, my voice hardening. “Let’s cut the crap, Mom. You’re doing this for yourself, not for anyone else.”

Her face twisted into a scowl.

“I won’t say more than I already have,” she said coldly. “He’ll be here with his family by 7 p.m., so you should be ready.”

She left without another word.

I shoved my hair back, frustration clawing at my chest. There was no way I was staying in this house. I grabbed my phone and texted Bianca, then pulled out some of my clothes and stuffed them into my school bag. I’d wear Bianca’s dress for now.

Sneaking out wasn’t new to me. I’d been doing it since I was fourteen—anytime my mom made it impossible to breathe, I found a way out.

I got to Bianca’s house and felt a rush of relief when I realized her parents weren’t home. No questions. No lectures.

“You finally came,” Bianca said the moment she saw me. She took my small bag, and we headed straight to her room.

I dropped onto her bed and let out a long sigh of relief.

“You know, sometimes I really wish my mom wasn’t my mom,” I muttered.

“Tell me about it,” Bianca replied, blowing out smoke. She handed the joint to me.

I’d never really been into weed, but right now, I needed it. I took a drag, exhaled slowly, then passed it back. A small smile crept onto my face as the haze settled in, the tension in my jaw finally loosening.

“Won’t your mom be mad if she finds us here like this?” I asked, half-worried, half-laughing.

“You don’t need to worry,” she said, excitement brightening her voice. “I told you they’re not home, didn’t I? We’ve got the place to ourselves for about three days.”

“Stefan.”

“Oh, he’s in his room,” she replied, passing the pot to me again.

I took another puff and handed it back. Seconds later, we were both laughing for no reason at all.

“My mom wants to set me up with someone,” I said.

“Oh, really?” Bianca responded, completely nonchalant.

“This is kind of a big deal,” I muttered, irritation creeping into my voice.

“I know. Don’t agree to it,” she said lazily.

I sighed. The weed was clearly getting to her, and I decided it was pointless to keep talking about it. We sat in silence, passing the pot back and forth. We ate way too much food. Bianca drank vodka at first, then stopped, saying it would mess with me even more.

About three hours later, Bianca was completely stoned. I pulled out my phone, barely able to keep it steady, and snapped a few ridiculous pictures of her—future blackmail material. I laughed softly, then pushed myself up from the bed.

Stefan was home.

The thought alone sent a warm rush through me. I wanted him. I wanted his hands on me. I found my way to his room and knocked. The door opened almost immediately, and I stumbled forward, colliding with his bare chest.

I felt it—him—and a smile spread across my face before I could stop it.

“We should close the door behind us,” I said, reaching back to shut it with one hand.

I looked up at him. My vision was blurry, but it didn’t matter. He smelled different—clean, intoxicating, not his usual cologne.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern softening his voice.

I smiled.

“I want to f**k you,” I said, my words slurred. “We can take it easy this time. We don’t have to worry and—”

“You’re stoned,” he cut in, worry deepening.

“No,” I said softly. “I just want to kiss you.”

Before he could say anything else, I pulled him closer, rose onto my tiptoes, and kissed him hard. He froze at first, then kissed me back, matching my pace. I pulled away, frustrated that my vision wouldn’t clear enough to fully take in how good he looked right now.

“You know I love you so much, Stefan,” I said, my voice thick. “My mom wants to marry me off to someone else, but it’s you. You’re the only one I want to be with for the rest of my life.”

I didn’t give him time to respond. I kissed him again.

Then the door flew open.

“What’s going on here?” a stern voice demanded.

Stefan’s voice.

Wait—Stefan?

I spun around, my head swimming. My vision blurred even more. I looked back at the man in front of me, confusion crashing into panic.

What the hell was going on?

The room tilted. My sight dissolved, and darkness swallowed everything.