Beneath the Same Sin

My mother remarried on a Tuesday. She wore white, like it was her first time. Like the blood she'd shed from the last man never happened. I stood by her side in a dress that hugged too tightly and itched at the seams, my smile stretched like a rubber band about to snap. Behind me, roses wilted under the heat of Miami’s late summer sun. It was too hot for secrets, but everyone here had them. Including me. Especially me. “Smile, Aurelia,” my mother whispered through her teeth as the photographer circled us. “He’s watching.” I didn’t have to ask who. Roman Maddox had been watching me since the moment we stepped off the boat. Since we moved into their glass mansion overlooking the sea. Since his father—my new stepfather—slid a diamond ring onto my mother’s finger. He was leaning against a column near the edge of the veranda now, a drink in one hand, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth. Dark suit, dark eyes, darker intentions. Roman had always looked like he stepped out of a scandal and straight into a designer campaign. And now he was my stepbrother. God help me. He raised his glass the moment our eyes met. A silent toast. A warning. It wasn’t the first time I’d caught him staring. It wouldn’t be the last. I turned away. —---------------------—----------------------------- I found him in the kitchen that night after the wedding. Everyone else had gone to bed—or passed out from too much champagne and too many lies. The mansion was quiet except for the steady hum of the fridge and the occasional clink of ice in Roman’s glass. He was leaning against the counter, barefoot, shirt unbuttoned just enough to make me forget how to breathe properly. “You don’t sleep?” he asked, not looking at me. “I could ask you the same thing.” He chuckled, low and amused. “Didn’t know you were the type to sneak into kitchens after midnight.” “I wasn’t aware you were the type to wait in them.” His eyes finally flicked up to meet mine. And just like every other time, something hot and reckless sparked behind them. “Trust me,” he said. “I’m full of surprises.” I stepped inside, arms crossed, pulse betraying me. “Don’t start.” “Start what?” “This thing where you flirt just to make me uncomfortable.” Roman tilted his head, that dangerous half-smile creeping in. “Flirt? Is that what you think I’m doing?” I didn’t answer. Mostly because I wasn’t sure I wanted him to stop. He pushed off the counter, stepping closer. The kitchen suddenly felt smaller. Hotter. Like the tension in the air had thickened and wrapped around us both. “You’re not uncomfortable,” he murmured. “You’re curious.” I swallowed. “You’re not supposed to say things like that.” “And you’re not supposed to want to hear them.” Silence pressed between us. Heavy. Charged. This was wrong. I knew it. He knew it. But Roman had always danced too close to danger. And I was starting to wonder if I did too. His gaze dropped to my mouth for half a second—just long enough for the air to spark between us—before he turned away. “You should get some sleep, Aurelia.” He said it was like a challenge. Like he knew sleep wouldn’t come easy. And he was right. —---------------------—----------------------------- I started classes the following week at my new university. Same city, different world. Everyone looked like they belonged on the cover of a magazine and acted like they owned half of Miami. Which, to be fair, some of them probably did. Roman went there too. Of course he did. We didn’t speak on campus, but I could feel him everywhere—like his presence trailed me, a shadow I couldn’t shake. I caught him watching from across courtyards, outside lecture halls, leaning against his sleek black car like he had nothing better to do than wait for me. I pretended not to care. Pretending was safer. Until the party. —---------------------—----------------------------- “You need to loosen up,” said Camille, one of the few people at school who bothered to talk to me. “This party’s gonna be insane. Everyone will be there. Including Roman Maddox.” I ignored that last part. I didn’t want to talk about Roman. But I let her drag me anyway—to a mansion bigger than my own, lights pulsing like a heartbeat, music loud enough to make my chest vibrate. The kind of party where secrets got made and broken in the same breath. I hadn’t even made it ten steps inside before I felt him. Roman. Standing near the stairs in a black button-down and no tie, eyes already locked on mine. He didn’t wave. He didn’t smile. He just stared. Like he was daring me to do something stupid. I grabbed a drink. Then another. Maybe if I was numb enough, the electricity between us would short-circuit. It didn’t. —---------------------—----------------------------- I was outside on the balcony when he cornered me. “I told you,” he said, voice low. “You’re not uncomfortable." You’re curious.” I turned slowly, heart in my throat. “You think that’s why I’m here?” “No.” His gaze dragged over me, deliberate and slow. “I think you’re here because you want something you’re not allowed to want.” I should’ve slapped him. Instead, I whispered, “So do you.” Roman stepped closer. One step. Then another. I didn’t move. “I’m not a good guy, Aurelia,” he said, breath brushing against my cheek. “You should know that by now.” “I do.” He lifted a hand to my face—didn’t touch me, just hovered. Waiting. Daring. And then he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I want to ruin you,” he whispered. I shivered. When he kissed me, it wasn’t sweet. It was a wildfire—hot and greedy, a promise of destruction. I kissed him back like I wanted the wreckage. Maybe I did. Maybe I always had. The door slammed open behind us. We broke apart. Camille stood there, drunk and wide-eyed, holding her phone like it might bite her. “You need to come. Now,” she said. “It’s your mom.” My blood went cold. “What happened?” “She’s at the hospital.” I didn’t ask for more. Roman grabbed his keys. I didn’t stop him when he followed me. —---------------------—----------------------------- We got there in ten minutes, running red lights, silence stretched like barbed wire between us. The nurse didn’t say much. Just told us my mom had collapsed. Internal bleeding. They were doing everything they could. But I’d seen this movie before. I knew how it ended. Roman waited with me, hands clenched, jaw tight. When the doctor finally walked in, I already knew. “She’s gone,” he said gently. My world cracked. And then Roman was pulling me into him, holding me like he could keep it from falling apart completely. But it was too late. The cracks were already spreading. And somewhere, deep in the mess of grief and heat and things we weren’t supposed to feel, I knew This was only the beginning. —---------------------—----------------------------- As Aurelia sobs in Roman’s arms, her phone buzzes. One new message. No name. Just four chilling words: “You’re not safe anymore.”