Page 29 of Heartless Stepbrother

Then came the moment. The question hanging in the air like a delicate thread waiting to be pulled apart.

“Do you, Marcus, take Eleanor to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Eleanor, take Marcus to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

A wave of joy rippled through the guests. Smiles bloomed, and the officiant’s voice softened, sealing the promise.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Marcus leaned in, and my mother melted into him, her smile lighting up the world around her as their lips met in a kiss that seemed to seal not just their vows, but the fragile hope of new beginnings.

Applause crashed around us like a tide, sweeping through the crowd, washing over the couple with warmth and well-wishes.

Through the noise, the boy next to me leaned closer, his breath warm and dangerous against my ear. “Welcome to the family, stepsis.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Soft, casual, utterly unexpected. But they landed with the weight of a sledgehammer.

My head snapped toward him, eyes wide, heart slamming against my ribs like it wanted to escape.

Stepsis.

If the boy across the aisle was Riley Maddox, my new stepbrother with his downcast eyes and that small, sorrowful smile, then why had the one sitting beside me leaned close and whisperedstepsislike it was both a curse and a claim? My thoughts tangled, a frantic knot I couldn’t loosen.

The boy beside me, whose face had been carved in perfect, merciless control all morning, suddenly broke. A sharp laugh escaped him, precise and cruel, as if he had been waiting for this very moment. The sound slashed through the air, drawing my gaze whether I wanted it or not.

“Wow,” he murmured, his voice low, amused, laced with venom. “You’re so gullible.”

My stomach dropped. Heat flushed my cheeks, shame crawling up my skin before I even understood why.

He turned his head, and his eyes locked on mine. His gaze was dark and unyielding, threaded with danger I hadn’t wanted to see. The smirk that curved his mouth was the kind that could ruin a girl just by existing.

“My name,” he said slowly, like each word was a chain locking into place, “is Riley Maddox.” His gaze flicked to the boy across the aisle and back again, lazy, merciless. “That one’s just my cousin. Nothing more.”

The world tilted. The ground might as well have cracked open beneath me. Everything I thought I knew shifted in an instant, and there was no mistaking it now.

It was him. Riley Maddox. Arrogant, smirking, infuriatingly handsome. The boy from the beach. The one who had taunted me with that impossible confidence. The one who I hadn’t been able to forget about since last night, was now myfamily.

The word echoed in my mind, dragging a cold wave of horror over me, but beneath that, buried deep, was a flicker of something else. Something darker, more complicated, that twisted in my gut and made my skin prickle in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

It was him. All along it had been him. The boy with the sharp American accent, the careless grin, the unshakable presence. His age, his attitude, the way he’d looked at me, every puzzle piece clicked into place with sickening clarity, and I had been so desperate to deny it, to believe it was impossible, that I’d walked right into this without realizing.

His eyes locked onto mine, dark and deep, flickering with amusement and something else, something raw, unreadable, like a promise or a warning. The smirk, the goddamn infuriating, victorious smirk on his lips… it told me he’d known. He’d known all along. And he’d let me stumble into this tangled mess blindfolded, savoring every second of my ignorance.

My mind spun, frantic, desperate to find words, but nothing came. I was paralyzed. Speechless. The world around me faded. The vibrant greens of the Hawaiian palms, the shimmering blue of the ocean behind the altar, the joyful applause that had just erupted for my mother and Marcus, all blurred into a distant, indistinct hum.

All I could see was him. His face. His eyes. That maddening, possessive smirk that promised the future would be nothing like the quiet, easy life I’d hoped for.

I was trapped. Not just in a new chapter, but an entirely new book, one written in shadows and secrets, with him as the antagonist, or maybe worse, the hero in his own twisted story.

I wanted to punch him. I wanted to scream. Instead, I clenched my fists in my lap, nails digging into my skin to ground myself.

“You’re impossible,” I hissed.

“Am I?” His voice was a low rumble, dangerous and teasing all at once. “Or just the reality you never saw coming?”