Chapter 3My Stepbrothers Became Darkly Obsessed

[Why is the evil stepsister just standing there spacing out? Is she plotting something worse?]

The text was still hovering in the air.

I quickly pulled out my phone and checked my banking app. I counted the zeroes. They were still there.

Serena whipped out her compact mirror. Her flawless face was untouched.

We both let out massive, shaky breaths.

We looked at each other, communicating entirely through our eyes.

Actually, when you really think about it, Devin always has a stick up his ass. He's not even fun.

Men age like milk anyway. He's twenty-seven, which in club years is basically sixty-two. He's too old for me.

Kieran is so fragile. If I actually got him into bed, he’d probably break.

Love is great, but my face is worth millions. If I have to choose between a man and my trust fund, the man has to go.

Serena always knew exactly what to say.

I decisively dumped the remaining powder straight into the nearest potted plant.

But I couldn't just leave the drinks sitting there. It felt too suspicious.

I grabbed a pitcher of tap water and topped off both glasses of scotch until they were thoroughly diluted.

[Wait, why did the villain back out?]

[The plot is totally shifting. Am I reading a pirated version of the book?]

[Oh no! The first encounter between the heroine and the male leads is totally ruined! How are they going to have their romantic, drug-fueled one-night stand now?!]

First encounter? One-night stand? Romantic?

Now that I was pulled out of my obsessive haze, reading those words made me want to gag. What a load of toxic bullshit.

Serena saw the text too. She frowned, looking visibly nauseated.

"Thank God we stopped," she whispered. "We didn't ruin our own lives, and we didn't accidentally traffic them to some random girl."

Devin stepped up to the bar. Seeing the glass in my hand, he assumed it was for him. He reached out to take it.

After seeing those floating comments, looking at him made my chest feel tight and complicated.

Maybe it started out as physical attraction. A shallow crush. But over the last year of trying to break through his walls, I had actually given him pieces of my real heart.

But if this was a story, and I was the villain, there was no point in bleeding out for him anymore.

"This isn't for you," I said coldly, pulling the glass away.

"..."

Devin’s dark eyes narrowed. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face.

I lifted the glass, intending to take a sip just to prove my point.

His hand shot out, wrapping around my wrist. He pulled the glass down. "Did you forget you're allergic to alcohol?"

I actually had forgotten.

I let him take the glass. He brought it to his lips and took a slow sip.

Serena watched him, opening her mouth to say something, then shutting it.

I knew firsthand how terrifyingly observant Devin was. Once, I had accidentally left a single strand of hair on his office chair. The next day, he presented it to me, noting the length and the curl pattern, and told me to learn the definition of boundaries.

There was no way he didn't taste the tap water I had just dumped into his Macallan.

But before I could dwell on it, our mother clinked her glass to announce the cake cutting.

Serena and I linked arms and walked up to the front to stand with her.

I accidentally glanced up.

I met Devin's eyes across the room.

I didn't give him my usual desperate, glowing smile. I just looked at him blankly, and then shifted my gaze to the wall.

Around ten o'clock, the party wound down.

I headed upstairs to my bedroom.

Devin was leaning against the mahogany railing at the top of the stairs. He called my name, stopping me in my tracks.

The light from the crystal chandelier hit the sharp angles of his jaw. Usually, his features were entirely composed, practically monastic. But tonight, there was a faint flush to his cheeks.

He was holding a small, dark red velvet box.

He looked at me.

I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

"Last week was your birthday. I was out of town on business and missed it. This is your gift."

I took the box and offered a polite, distant smile. "Thank you, Devin."

Devin’s eyes widened, a sudden, jarring clarity cutting through his buzzed state. His voice hitched with a strange tension. "What did you just... call me?"