Forbidden Love With My Mafia Step-Brother

Alexa POV

The sky was heavy with clouds, the kind that pressed low enough to feel like they could tumble down on you at any second. I pulled my jacket tighter as I stepped out of the house, hoping I'd beat the rain before it broke loose. The air smelled damp already, sharp with the promise of a storm.

School had been exhausting, not just because of the endless homework and assignments, but because every class felt like it dragged on forever. My calculus teacher had spent half the period telling us stories about "his glory days" in college when all I wanted was for him to explain the actual equations. Maybe if the teachers focused more on teaching than reminiscing, I wouldn't feel like my brain was leaking out of my ears by the time the bell rang.

I cut through the alley behind the corner store. It shaved at least ten minutes off the walk home, and today, with the clouds swelling darker by the second, those ten minutes mattered.

Halfway down the alley, the sound of footsteps echoed behind me.

At first, I ignored it. Plenty of people used this shortcut. But when I quickened my pace, the footsteps matched me. Too close. Too deliberate. My stomach tightened.

Don't panic, I told myself. Just walk faster.

I risked a glance over my shoulder. Two guys. Not anyone I recognized from school. They were keeping their distance, but their eyes were locked on me like I was prey.

My heart jumped into my throat.

I picked up speed, my sneakers smacking against the damp pavement. The men sped up too.

No. No. No.

I broke into a run, but I wasn't looking where I was going. The next second, I slammed straight into something hard and unyielding. I staggered back, blinking. Not a wall. A person.

"Alexa Smith."

The voice made every inch of me go cold.

I lifted my eyes and found myself staring at Jace-the guy with the worst reputation at Westview High. The kind of reputation that wasn't just rumor. He was trouble, and he wore it like a second skin.

Behind him, more of his crew appeared from the shadows, all dressed in black hoodies. They spread out in a semicircle, cutting off my escape.

I swallowed hard. "What do you want, Jace?"

His grin spread wide, sharp and mocking. "What do you think? You embarrassed me."

"What?" My mind scrambled.

He twirled a wooden stick he must've gotten from one of his guys, letting it smack lightly against his palm. "Last week. Calc test. You wouldn't give me the answers."

"I told you-I couldn't," I said quickly, voice trembling. "If I was caught, I'd lose everything. My spot, my grades, my record. I can't-"

He laughed. Not just him, but all of them. The sound echoed through the alley, cruel and jagged.

"You think you're special, Alexa. But here's the truth-you're not." His smirk hardened as he stepped closer, the stick tapping against the ground. "I warned you what would happen if you crossed me. And now? You're going to pay."

The air seemed to squeeze tight around me. I took a step back, but there was nowhere left to go.

Then, a voice cut through the noise-low, steady, and dangerous.

"Touch her, and it'll be the last thing you ever do."

The entire group froze. Even Jace.

At the far end of the alley, a figure leaned against the wall. His face was half in shadow, but I could see the way his posture radiated calm control, like he wasn't remotely intimidated by Jace's army of followers.

Jace straightened, annoyance flashing across his features. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?"

The man didn't answer. Didn't even move.

That only seemed to piss Jace off more. He lunged toward me, hand outstretched like he meant to grab my hair.

But he never made it.

In a blink, the stranger was there. One second he was ten feet away, the next Jace was flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him. The fight erupted instantly.

I stumbled back against the brick wall, heart hammering as I watched.

The stranger fought like no one I'd ever seen before. He wasn't just stronger-he was faster, sharper, like he knew every move before it happened. One by one, Jace's guys went down. Fists cracked against jaws. Bodies hit the pavement. The sound was brutal, and every time Jace took a hit, I flinched as if it were happening to me.

Jace, desperate, scrambled up with a knife in his hand. My breath caught.

The stranger sidestepped the swing like he'd expected it, grabbed Jace's wrist, and flipped him onto the ground so hard the knife clattered out of his grip. A few more blows landed, quick and punishing, until Jace lay gasping, unable to rise.

The alley fell silent except for the groans of the defeated.

The stranger straightened slowly, turning his head toward me.

I froze. Even though he had just saved me, something about his presence was unnerving. Controlled. Intense. Dangerous in a way that didn't fade just because he'd chosen to be on my side.

"Thank you," I whispered, forcing the words out past the lump in my throat.

He said nothing. Just turned and started walking away.

"Wait!" My voice cracked in the quiet alley. "The least you could do is tell me your name."

He paused. For a second, I thought he wouldn't answer. Then he spoke, his voice calm but firm.

"Baron."

And just like that, he was gone.

I stared down at the bodies scattered across the alley, panic bubbling up again. If anyone saw this-if anyone connected me to this-I'd be dragged into the mess too.

I ran.

By the time I made it to school the next morning, the storm had come and gone, but the memory of last night still clung to me. Every slam of a locker, every shout down the hallway, made me flinch. I told myself to focus, to blend in, to not think about Baron or Jace.

But of course, the universe had other plans.

The classroom buzzed with chatter until the door opened and our teacher walked in. Instantly, the noise died down.

"Alright, everyone," he said, "we've got a new student joining us today." He motioned toward the door. "Come on in."

The door swung open.

I gasped.

Baron.

He walked in like he belonged there, like he hadn't left a trail of unconscious bodies in an alley less than twelve hours ago. His eyes flicked across the room until they landed on me. Slowly, deliberately, his lips curved into the faintest smirk before he looked away again.

"This is Baron Jackson," the teacher introduced. "Make him feel welcome. Go ahead and take the empty seat."

Of course the empty seat was next to me.

Shit.

I forced my attention to the board, scribbling down notes that didn't even make sense. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him sit down. Felt the weight of his presence. Every small shift he made, I noticed it. Every breath seemed louder than it should.

My heart raced. Why did he have this effect on me? He was just a guy. A terrifying, mysterious, ridiculously composed guy-but still, just a guy.

The class dragged on in uncomfortable silence. When the bell finally rang, girls swarmed him instantly, curious, flirtatious. Baron dismissed them with a shake of his head, uninterested.

I stayed frozen at my desk, wrestling with myself. I owed him something-at least words. Gratitude. But my nerves tangled every thought in my head.

Finally, I stood. "Hey. Um." My voice felt too small, but I forced it out. "My name's Alexa. I just... I wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday."

For a moment, he only looked at me, expression unreadable. Then he turned away again, silent.

Frustration sparked in my chest. What a jerk.

I grabbed my bag, ready to leave, when his voice came-low, steady, and close enough to make me stop.

"You're welcome."