Falling for my step brother

In Italy, the sun casted a warm orange glow across the sky illuminating the De Luca’s mansion, a luxurious mansion made of glass and stone that sat on the hill in the city of Rome. the mansion buzzled with activities. Lora stared passionately at her brother, Justin , the unofficial captain of the house as he supervised the maids and kept everything running. As he rested on the balcony railing, a cool morning breeze brushed his face, pulling him into the memory of his mother, Anna. She used to be the heartbeat of this house once, a woman with a very beautiful heart and a smile that could melt anyone. Justin remembered how Anna would always scrub the marble floors until they gleamed, her apron stained with soap bubbles, her laughter echoing as she mended Lorenzo’s torn jacket. She’d been more than a maid, she had been a family to the De luca’s. Anna’s promotion to housekeeper had come after years of hard work. The De Lucas had seen her loyalty, her passion for turning chaos into order. Lorenzo, a broad man with a silver-streaked beard and a voice like thunder, had clapped her on the shoulder one day, saying, “Anna, you’re the glue here.” Maria, his wife, with her elegant dresses and soft pretty eyes, had nodded, slipping Anna an extra bonus that Christmas. Lorenzo admired Anna’s grit, while Maria saw her as almost a sister, more than a friend. But then, when Justin was just 10, death stole Anna away. It was sudden and no one unexpected it, 10 years old Justin was told it was a fever that turned to pneumonia. The De Lucas hadn’t hesitated. Lorenzo and Maria sat Justin down in their luxury living room, and told him he was theirs now. “You’re not alone, Justin,” Maria had said, her voice trembling with kindness. Lorenzo had added, “You’re a De Luca in every way that matters.” he declared firmly. From that day, Justin grew up beside Lora and Smith, the couple’s biological children, in a home where no one outside of their family could tell that he wasn’t born into the family. Lorenzo and Maria loved Justin as dearly as their own, their affection covering the lines of blood. Justin carried that love like a badge. He pulled his phone from his pocket, to check his time. It was 6:45 a.m, he knew the staff needed direction, and Lora and Smith would be awake soon. He jogged down the wide staircase and stepped into the kitchen. “Morning, Carla,” he called to the head maid, a stout woman with graying hair packed into a stylish bun. She smiled widely, flipping a pancake high in the air. “Morning, Breakfast will be ready in a few seconds.” Justin nodded, grabbing a clipboard from the counter. He wrote quickly, he listed the things he needed to put in check; check the foodstore, call the gardener, wake the kids, his mind racing with the day’s demands. Justin’s heart was always filled with gratitude, he made a quiet promise to repay the De Lucas for taking him in. He wasn’t just the adopted son, everyone in the house depended on him, the eldest who held the position while Lorenzo and Maria jetted off to their business trips, their suitcases stuffed with contracts and their phones buzzing with deals. They were very high merchants, they were importers of luxury goods, from high-end watches and jewelry to high-end electronics. Their wealth kept the mansion gleaming. Justin opened the door that led to the dining room, where sunlight shone through floor to ceiling and the windows. The long dining table was set for just three; him, Lora, and Smith. He adjusted a fork, his fingers lingered on the cool metal, and his thoughts drifted again, taking him down the memory lane. He remembered his 12 year-old-self sitting in this very room as Maria taught him table manners, he remembered how he was taught how to use the cutlery; knife here, napkin there. Her patience was so admirable. Lorenzo on the other hand showed off a new luxury watch from a client, winking as he said, “One day, you’ll run things too, Justin.” And beside him, Lora and Smith, giggling as they flicked peas at each other, their faces bright with naughty behaviour. Back in the present, Justin smiled at the memory. He wasn’t just grateful, he was proud. The De Lucas had given him a life he had never dreamed of, this is the family he replaced with the one he had lost. His mother’s death had left a hole in his heart, but this mansion and these people got it filled. He had made a silent vow years ago, that he will make her proud, and he ’ll be good to them, And he fulfilled his vows. He was the glue now, just like his mom had been, keeping the house alive while the parents were away. Lora,a slim and graceful 22 year-old lady was struggling to stay awake in her room, her dark hair spilling over her pillow as she stirred awake. Her phone blared an alarm at 7:00 a.m. she groaned, swiping it off back. She wore a loose tank top and shorts, her bare feet hitting the plush carpet as she stretched. Lora’s mind was unclear, still tangled in a dream of music and moonlight, but she smiled thinking of Justin downstairs. She knew He would be up already, making sure everything was perfect. Lora’s affection toward Justin was admirable, she adored his quiet strength so much and his way of making her feel safe. Smith rolled out of bed in his room. A 19 year-old lad, tall and rumpled. His room was a mess, his heap of dirty clothes were on the floor, his room was quite disorganized and his laptop was open to a gaming site. He scratched his messy hair, yawning as he checked his phone for texts from friends. Smith was the wild one, the joker, but he respected Justin like a hero. Smith saw Justin as the big brother who always had his back, the one who had bailed him out of trouble more times than he could count. Justin’s voice echoed up the stairs. “Lora! Smith! Breakfast is served!” He stood in the foyer now with a clipboard in his hand, the smell of pancakes drifting around him. Lora stumbled out first, pulling her hair into a messy bun, her eyes still sleepy but warm. “Morning, Justin,” she mumbled, leaning against the railings. He grinned. “Rough night right?” She shrugged, and smiled “Just dreaming of a Grammy win.” Smith bounded down next, nearly tripping his T-shirt inside out. “Yo, Justin, you making eggs too?” he asked, dodging a playful hit from Lora. The three gathered in the dining room, the table now piled with food; pancakes, scrambled eggs and fresh fruit. Justin sat at the head, and dished out plates. Lora teased him, snatching an extra pancake. “You’re too good at this, Justin. What’s your secret?” He laughed, a low, easy sound. “Years of practice, little sis.” Smith chimed in, mouth full. “Yeah, you’re basically Mom 2.0.” They all chuckled, the room filling with warmth, the bond between them was admirable. Justin loved these moments, the chatter, the teasing. It was his proof that he belonged, that he had earned his place. Lora’s heart fluttered as she watched him, her teasing hiding a spark she didn’t yet name. Smith, oblivious, just enjoyed the chaos, his loyalty to Justin was unshakable. They ate, the clink of forks and the hum of a distant lawnmower was the soundtrack to their morning. Justin had already instructed the gardener to start his work outside. He glanced at his phone, it’s 7:30 a.m. already, he stood up immediately “Gotta check the pantry before the delivery guy shows up. Are you two okay?” Lora nodded, stealing his last strawberry. “We’re fine, boss man.” Smith grinned. “Yeah, don’t burn the house down without us.” Justin rolled his eyes, heading out, but not before ruffling Smith’s hair and tossing Lora a mock salute. Justin stepped into the pantry, a cool, shadowy room lined with shelves. He scanned the stock; cereal, pasta, canned goods, his mind ticking through the week’s needs. But then he paused, a jar of olives in hand, his thoughts drifting to Anna again, everything reminded him of his mom. He remembered Anna laughing as she made him olive sandwiches, her voice singing an old Italian lullaby. Justin’s chest tightened. She would be proud, wouldn’t she? Upstairs, Lora slipped back to her room, flopping onto her bed with a sigh. She pulled out her phone, scrolling through her photos; her, Smith, Justin at last summer’s beach trip, all sunburned and smiling. Her thumb hovered over Justin’s face and her pulse quickened. Something was stirring in her, a feeling she couldn’t name yet, a thread pulling her toward him. Smith, meanwhile, grabbed his fencing gear, texting a friend about practice. He glanced at a photo of him and Justin at a carnival on his desk, their arms slung around each other. He grinned, thinking, Justin is the best. Always got my back. Justin is now back to the balcony, the sun higher now, Rome waking gradually. He breathed deep, the day stretching ahead, his role clear. Lora’s gaze quietly through the window from her room, a future neither could see. What would happen when the parents returned? When secrets started to spill?