Page 17 of Heartless Stepbrother

He made it sound like a joke. But it wasn’t. It was a jab, veiled in silk, designed to sting.

The way he saidlittle Aussie… it shouldn’t have affected me. But it did. The words were spoken in that same low murmur, brushed with something intimate, almost reverent. Like he wastrying on the sound of it. Like he’d already decided he’d be saying it again.

My stomach clenched.

“I’m Luna,” I said, forcing my voice steady, lifting my chin just enough to match the weight of his stare. “And I’m not lost. I’m staying at the resort.”

My fingers curled into fists at my sides. “And I’m leaving.”

His smirk twisted, a dangerous curve of lips that felt like the first line of a trap being set.

“Luna,” he repeated, drawing it out like he was tasting the syllables. “Pretty name. Suits a moonlit encounter.”

The air between us tightened.

It was like the world shrank, the sound of the ocean fading beneath the thrum in my ears. The girl beside him faded, too, forgotten, ignored. There was only his voice, his eyes, his presence… stretching around me like a net I hadn’t seen until it was too late.

He took a step forward.

I instinctively moved back.

The sand was cool beneath my bare feet, but the heat from his gaze chased across my skin, crawling over me like it had fingers.

“You know what I liked best about you catching us?” His voice was soft, unhurried, the kind of tone that didn’t need to raise itself to command attention. “You could’ve looked away. But you didn’t. You stayed frozen. Staring.”

He smiled then, slow and terrible.

“There’s something dangerous about a girl who can’t look away. Something that begs to be tested.”

My cheeks flamed. I could feel the heat rise up my neck, pricking under my skin. “I wasshocked,“ I said, my voice a little too fast, too defensive. “I didn’t know what to do. I don’t make a habit of—of walking in on strangers.”

I stopped.

Because it sounded stupid. Because he was still watching me like I’d handed him a confession instead of a defense.

He smiled again, slow and deliberate.

“No,” he said softly. “of course you don’t.”

There was something indulgent in his tone, like he was picturing it. Unraveling me.

“But,” he continued, stepping just close enough for me to feel it, his presence, his heat, his intention, “not everyone gets front-row seats to me, Luna. You should consider yourself lucky. Most girls only get to dream about watching.”

I bristled. “I don’t consider myself lucky,” I snapped, voice sharper now, splintering with indignation. “I consider myselfmortified.And I’d like to go.”

The moment stretched.

Then his eyes flicked away. Finally. He turned toward Anna, who now tugged on his arm, her face flushed and impatient.

He glanced back at me one last time. A flick of those eyes, dark and unreadable, that held me still even as his body began to walk away. There was something in that look, amusement, yes, but also something else. A challenge. A dare. A quiet promise.

“You better hope there is no next time.” he said, voice low and silk-smooth, “Otherwise I’ll make sure you don’t just watch.”

Then he turned fully, slipping his arm around Anna’s waist, and they walked down the curve of the beach, swallowed by the night and the shadows of the resort’s palm-lined paths.

I stood there, heart pounding in my chest, still breathing the air he’d left behind.

Still burning with everything I didn’t understand.