My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 15

Raphael just leaned back, one arm draped over the chair, “Well?” he said lightly.

Jules hesitated another second. Then, very quietly, she said, “I… actually like Jewel.”

My head snapped toward her.

She gave a small, sheepish shrug, clearly trying not to smile “It’s kind of pretty.”

Across the table, Raphael’s mouth curved slowly.

“See?” he murmured.

Then he picked his iPad back up like the matter had been settled all along.

“Jewel.”

“Raphael, stop it,” Madeleine said gently.

She was still smiling, though she shook her head at him in quiet reprimand, like she already knew he was enjoying this far too much.

“Okay,” Madeleine said, pushing back her chair and rising to her feet. She smoothed a hand over her skirt, “Gianna and I really have to go, or we’ll both be late for our first lectures.”

I stood up instantly, grabbing my backpack from the floor. I followed her out of the dining room as fast as I could without running. Once we reached the grand foyer, she told me to wait there while she ran upstairs to grab her things.

I stood by the heavy front door, crossing my arms over my chest. I felt small under the high ceilings, my eyes darting toward every shadow.

Then I felt something, a shift in the air behind me. The kind of presence that makes the back of your neck prickle before you even turn around. I slowly glanced over my shoulder.

Raphael.

He was standing a few feet behind me now, tall and perfectly put together like he had stepped out of some expensive magazine. The reading glasses on like that tiny piece of glass could somehow make him look normal.

It didn’t.

Not when I’d seen the way his eyes looked in the dark last night. My heart slammed hard against my ribs. Why was he doing this?

Did he recognize me?

“I’m sure Salvatore has a soft spot for charity cases,” then his eyes came back to me, “But stay out of my space.”

For a second I couldn’t even process what he’d said.

A thief?

He thought I’d been sneaking around his room to steal from him.

He didn’t recognize me, not as the girl on the stage, not as the girl who stripped for him, he just saw me as a poor girl trying to grab a piece of their money.

A gold digger.

The words burned in my throat. I wanted to snap back, to tell him I didn’t want a single dollar from him or anyone in this house but my body refused to move.

Raphael stepped past me. Close enough that the sleeve of his jacket brushed my arm. The contact was brief, barely there but heat shot straight up my spine.

He just kept going across the foyer with the calm confidence of a man who knew the entire world moved around him and I was nothing more than a bug he’d already crushed under his shoe.