Page 91 of Heartless Stepbrother

“No.”

Another one of those quiet, skeptical hums. “You should be.”

The air thickened between us.

He reached past me, slowly, and turned the handle to my door.

“Go on,” he said. “Make sure you like it.”

I hesitated in the doorway, the light from the hallway brushing across my shoulders.

Riley stayed in the hall, leaning casually against my doorframe now, like he had all the time in the world to watch me absorb the fact that my room was directly opposite his.

That every night, he’d know exactly where I was.

Exactly how close I was.

His gaze lowered, then lifted back to mine with deliberate ease.

“Welcome to your room, Luna.” A smirk tugged the corner of his mouth.

The door swung open silently, as though the room had been waiting.

I stepped inside, and for a moment I just… stared.

It wasn’t what I expected.

The room was large, bigger than my room back home, but it didn’t feel cold the way the rest of the house did. Warm light pooled from recessed fixtures overhead, softer, golden, almost gentle. The walls were a muted cream, the floors smooth dark walnut, polished but lived-in.

My things were already here.

All of them.

The duvet from my old bed, the pale blue throw I’d had since freshman year, the framed photos Sienna and Chiara insisted on gifting me every Christmas. Every piece I’d sent weeks ago was here.

Someone had unpacked everything meticulously.

My books lined the built-in shelves in the exact order I kept them.

My jewelry dish sat centered on the nightstand.

My candle, the vanilla one I lit when studying, was already set on the dresser, wick untouched.

A strange tightness pulled at my chest.

It felt like walking into a room I knew… inside a house I didn’t understand at all.

The bed faced a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the valley, Palo Alto stretching out in glittering hints of light below. Sheer curtains softened the view, swaying gently with the air con’s quiet hum.

Then there was the walk-in closet.

The door stood slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of organization so perfect it made my breath catch. Color-coded clothes, shoes lined up in a neat row, accessories already tucked away.

It was too much.

Too prepared.

Too intimate.