Sex with My Mafia Stepbrother

Sometimes I wondered if Tiffany ever took her time to look at her reflection in the mirror.

She was perfect and I was beginning to see it with each day that passed.

Everything about her face was in proper structure and she would never need a surgery to get anything right.

The only thing I hated about her face was the way she was looking at me now.

She made it seem like I was doing something wrong and I needed redemption.

My life would always need remeption.

There was something about the way she looked at me that made me scowl whenever I was responding to her.

This time, she looked concerned but I had no idea why.

I wasn’t a jerk back there and I didn’t even feel any adrenaline rush when I was helping her into the bathtub. Was there anyway I misbehaved? I was sure I didn’t.

I was wondering though, does she remember anything from that night?

I knew she would say something if she remembered so I brushed the thought off and just focused on the road.

“Luciano.”

I didn’t respond to Tiffany calling my name. All I did was turn on the ignition and fastened my seatbelt.

I floored my foot and sped off in split seconds.

I was going to take the shortest route so I could beat traffic and get to school fast.

She kept looking at me but I ignored her look and acted like I didn’t see her.

“Luciano, I said-”

“Can you just shut up and be calm?” I blatantly said and continued driving.

Silence fell and nobody said any word again. I had no idea what she wanted to say but I needed to think straight.

“I haven’t,” she finally said and I looked at her.

“What?”

“I haven’t seen you like this,” she said. “You’ve never been this way and I’m just wondering what the hell is wrong with you.”

I didn’t respond and she just kept blabbing about how important it was to be in a good frame while driving.

“You could get us killed if you don’t relax and tell me what’s wrong.”

Oh! So she was afraid to die.

“You’re the one who should relax,” I told her.

“But-”

“Mind YOUR business Tiffany!!”

She flinched at the way I yelled and I felt bad for a second. I didn’t mean to react that way or yell at her but she wouldn’t stop being meddlesome.

I remembered Massimo and scoffed. I needed to think straight but she wasn’t giving me the space to do so.

He died! He died because of me!

“Three years ago,” I blurted. “My business okay? And he knew I killed him.”

“What?” Tiffany said and swallowed back. “Who did you kill?”NôvelDrama.Org (C) content.

I took a deep breath without saying anything. I had no idea how to say it or even let her what was going on.

I wanted to figure out everything my own way and didn’t want her bothered.

That was the main reason I love staying alone. I hate explaining myself.

“I’m sorry,” I said and swallowed hard.

I looked at her but her eyes didn’t look like they were sad or shit.

“At least, I’m happy,” Tiffany said. “I’m happy to see you miserable.”

“What?”

She moved closer so she could easily touch me and stretched to touch my face.

“You heard me Luciano. I’m so happy to see you miserable and I hope you don’t recover.”

She smiled and when the car came to a halt, she gently opened the door.

“I hope you never recover,” she said and open the door.

I had no idea what to feel but I felt a wave of disappointment flush over me. It was crazy how Tiffany was making me feel this way.

Just when I thought I had someone who care or at least acted like they cared, it all crushed to nothing.

“I’m glad you’ll also share my pain,” I told her and she slammed the door.

“Fucking hell!” I yelled and hit my hands on the steering wheel. I took a deep breath but nothing was working.

I looked at my reflection from the side mirror and I looked a mess. I was looking like I had the hungover when I wasn’t even the one who got drunk in the first place.

Everything seemed to be difficult to comprehend but I knew i’d get over the whole shitty thing.

* * * *

AFTER CLASS/ BACK TO THE APARTMENT

Moments like this were best had in private because it could be embarrassing to have a breakdown.

I walked around the building trying to calm myself but it wasn’t working.

I leaned on the wall and waited for a moment before I checked for my pocket for my cell phone.

I didn’t see it at first till I checker my back pocket and my phone was sitting right there. I sighed and I picked up my phone.

I looked at the screen with a furrow on my forehead and dialed my dad’s number.

Ring!

Ring!!

Ring!!!

I never called unless it was Important and right now, it was very important.

I waited for the call to connect but it just kept ringing. It rang and I kept listening till it beeped and ended.

I tried again, this time with a scowl that showed I was getting frustrated.

This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten this way but it’s the first in a long while that I’ve felt the strong urge to get my shit figured.

I looked at the screen to see if the call had connected but it hadn’t.

I ran my hand through my hair and scoffed. “Common Dad, pick up already.”

“Pick up, man. I fucking need you to pick this call!”

“Ourgh!” I growled. “Fucking pick your call!”

I listened to the call ring but it went to voicemail and that made me growl. I kept trying till the fifth time and when he didn’t pick, I tossed the phone away.

“Damn it!”

I could feel my chest physically squeezing and more than anything, I hated that I couldn’t handle that one pain.

This wan both pain and anger mixed together and the result was a hot year dangling on my eyelash.

I took a deep breath and sniffed in an attempt to stop the tears.

This is too much!

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