Falling For My Stepsister’s Father

Chapter 8

The moment we reached the table, we found Alderic gone. His seat sat empty like a warning. Only Luca and his younger brother remained, both still as statues. Luca’s eyes lifted first—to us, then directly to me. A small smile tugged at his lips, soft enough to feel wrong. I dropped my gaze instantly, unease sliding down my spine like cold fingers.

My eyes drifted back to Alderic’s empty chair, wondering where he disappeared to, wondering why he walked away in the first place.

“Where’s your mother?” Isabel asked, slipping back into her seat with a hiss. “Has she crawled back to whatever ditch she came from?”

My head whipped toward her, ready to caution her, she was insulting their mother right in front of them, but Luca’s low chuckle cut the air, dragging my gaze back to him.

“You really hate her, huh?” he drawled, licking his lips slowly.

Isabel only smirked and tilted her head. “I have no ill feelings toward your mother, Luca. I just don’t think she’s the right fit for my father. Don’t you think so?” She swirled her wine, pinning him with a stare sharp enough to draw blood. She dared him to disagree.

“It doesn’t matter what I think, stepsister.” He leaned forward, linking his fingers together, his voice dropping into something colder. “And it doesn’t matter what you think either. Or what you try. This marriage—whatever our parents want to call it—will happen.”

Isabel stood so fast her wine glass clattered against the table. “Over my dead body.”

“Well,” he said softly, “that can be arranged.”

My breath froze.

His eyes snapped to mine, already waiting. Already watching. Chills rose over my arms, the wrong kind, the kind that felt like a warning.

“What?” Isabel croaked. “Are you threatening me in my father’s house?”

But Luca wasn’t looking at her anymore. His focus remained glued to me, his smile bright and dark at the same time, eyes drifting over my features and settling hungrily on my lips.

With a slow, taunting tilt of his head, he finally looked back at Isabel. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, little sis. My mother will marry your father. And not even a girl like you will stand in her way. I’ll make sure of it.”

Heat flared off Isabel; she was seconds away from lunging across the table. I squeezed her hand hard, grounding her, keeping her from doing something we’d both regret.

I stood with her, my voice finally finding its strength. “And what does it matter to you if they get married?”

His eyes snapped back to me. Blue like his mother’s—sharp, expressive and predatory. At the sound of my voice, a spark lit in them. Something unkind. Something curious.

“Ah. She speaks.” He straightened, mirroring our stance, slipping his hands into his pockets. Even though he towered over us slightly, he still wasn’t as tall as Isabel’s father. But height didn’t matter. His presence filled the room like smoke.

I swallowed. He gave me a kind of vibe I didn’t like—too familiar, too close to memories I spent years burying.

“And to answer your question, darling…” His gaze dragged down my frame then back up to my eyes. “I found something in this house that… interests me. I’d like to stay close to it. Does that answer satisfy you?”

I stayed silent.

He laughed, a soft, triumphant sound like he’d won something I didn’t know I was even fighting for.

With a sharp thud, he smacked his brother on the back. The boy jolted, flinching, as though his mind had been far, far away.

“I guess we’ll be leaving now,” Luca said, grabbing his brother’s wrist and pulling him up. The poor boy followed blindly, still nervous and silent.

“Take your b***h of a mother with you!” Isabel shouted after him.

Luca didn’t break stride. “I’m sure they’d like to start consummating the marriage tonight, little sis. Try not to be a nuisance.”

And then he was gone.

Isabel scoffed loudly. “What the f**k? Who the hell does he think he is?”

I didn’t answer. My eyes stayed glued to the door he disappeared through. My heart wouldn’t slow down. My fingers picked at my nail beds, hard. I only did that when I was anxious, and Luca’s sudden interest in me was setting every alarm bell ringing. Not the good kind of attention. The dangerous kind.

The kind that felt too much like my past, the past I was still running from.

“Sera, are you listening?”

I jerked my head toward her so fast it hurt. “Huh? Sorry. What did you say?”

She stared at me for a second, her lip trembling before she caught it between her teeth. Then she huffed, wiping the corners of her eyes with the heel of her palm, angrily, like she was offended by her own tears. She swallowed hard.

“You know what? It’s fine.” Her voice cracked despite the irritation she tried to lace it with.

She turned and began walking away.

“Isabel, come on. I’m sorry.” I hurried after her.

“No, munchkin,” she said, shaking her head, her back still half turned. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.” She let out a shaky breath through her nose. “I just… I just need to rest. I’m tired.”

My heart caved in for her.

This whole battle against her father’s marriage was beginning to feel like climbing a collapsing building. Every second, something new fell on us. At first, we thought we only needed to deal with Magdalene, her smooth lies, her forced smile… but now Luca had stepped forward like a soldier volunteering for war. And he didn’t look like someone we could ignore. He looked like someone with resources, confidence, and cruelty, danger wrapped in an easy smile.

Isabel looked defeated already. And I could not let her fall apart.

Not her.

I took a few steps toward her and caught both her hands in mine. “Look at me.”

Slowly, she lifted her head. Her eyes were glossy, swollen, angry, broken, all at once.

“We will win this, Bee,” I told her, my words steady even though my chest was shaking. “Do you hear me? We will.”

She dropped her gaze, shaking her head softly, ready to doubt herself again. But I placed my palms on both sides of her face, holding her still, not roughly, but firmly enough that she felt grounded.

“If you don’t trust yourself to see this to the end,” I whispered, leaning closer, “I do. You are driven. You are stubborn. You always finish what you start. And if you think Magdalene is not good for your father, then we will stop it. Together. You have me now.”

Her lips wobbled. Tears pooled faster at the edges of her eyes until one slipped free. She placed her hand over mine, gripping it tightly like it was the only stable thing in the room, then used her other arm to pull me close. She buried her face in my shoulder and cried—soft, painful cries that came from deep inside her.

I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight.

I whispered every promise I could find, promises I had no idea how to keep, promises I wasn’t even sure were possible. But I meant every single one of them. Because this was Isabel. My savior. My best friend. My sister by choice and by heart. And I would do anything for her.

Even if it meant walking into a war.

Even if it meant stepping back into darkness I barely survived the first time.

I would do it. For her.