With my Mafia Stepbrother

TIFFANY'S POV

I bit my lower lip to keep from screaming, but who was I kidding?

Gripping the handle tightly, I turned up the setting. Call me selfish, but I had never truly been satisfied enough. Not even after spending the night with Joe, my boyfriend.

Like he was engineered to mess things up.

I had come home only an hour ago, and here I was again, chasing that feeling. Just a little more bliss was all I wanted. Was that too much?

You can call me a bad girl, I don't mind. I like sneaking past my stepfather's 11 o'clock curfew. Good luck trying to keep a restless girl locked down.

Just like always, I craved this from someone who actually knew what they were doing.

A soft sigh slipped out as I relaxed into the feeling.

My mind wandered.

Eighteen years old. Fresh out of high school, and my stepdad's keeping me home longer than planned, claiming he's sorting out my dream college admission. I didn't even make the grades, so now I'm stuck, restless, frustrated, and hating him more every day.

Just call it the teenage rebellious age.

Mom's in a coma after that awful fight with him. She got out of the moving car, and... well, the doctors say if she wakes up, she might be a vegetable. At 39, needing someone to take care of her most basic needs?

It's heartbreaking. Very.

Luciano, my stepbrother, has been helpful in his own cold way. He's heartless, always looks dangerous, but there's a flicker of something human in him.

Still, I don't get why Mom left my cheating dad. The same man who had nowhere else to show how his infidelity was shameless but on the bodies of three of her best friends. Long story short, she got herself a fine Italian man named Enzo.

They're both hot, though. My stepfather and especially his son.

That doesn't change how insanely attractive I find Luciano.

Just thinking his name sent a shiver through me, that deep, forbidden tingle spreading fast.

Eyes closed, I pictured his face-those piercing gray eyes staring down.

I wanted him. The real him. All of him.

I wanted him to take control in ways that were completely wrong.

Pleasure surged, sharp and overwhelming.

I arched, breathing heavier than I meant to.

"Tiffany?"

The door opened without warning.

Crap.

Heart slamming, I yanked the covers over myself as Luciano stepped into view. Thank goodness my bed was tucked behind the bookshelf.

"What?" I snapped, voice shaky.

He stood there, eyes roaming over me like he already suspected me. Even through the thick duvet, he seemed like he sensed something.

He then walked around the room like he was searching for something.

"What on earth are you doing?" I yelled. "Ever heard of privacy? Knocking?"

Luciano rolled his eyes, glanced at the door, and walked out without a word.

I let out a trembling breath, relief mixed with lingering heat.

Seconds later, the door swung open again.

"Did you see my..." Luciano paused, then smiled as he reached into my closet and pulled down his charger. "This."

My cheeks burned. I had borrowed it days ago after leaving mine at the mall. I used it last night. How the hell did it end up there?

I straightened my legs under the covers, praying he couldn't hear the sound. The toy was still there, while I stared at the guy I had just been fantasizing about.

Luciano stood there shirtless, sweaty, hair messy, chest flushed probably from training. If not for the taekwondo pants he had on, I would have sworn that he just came from something else entirely.

That low voice... God, please don't let him notice. I could see his eye twitch, like he was trying to figure out where the sound was coming from.

I bit my lip hard to stifle any sound, breath uneven as I tried to discreetly reach under the duvet. But his eyes were locked on me, intense.

His lips curved into that sly smirk. He shrugged, pushed his hair back, and turned to leave.

"I don't want to know what the heck you were doing, Tiff," he said over his shoulder. "Next time, just lock the door!"

Omg! What was that? Did he know?

Oh snap!

Nothing could be more humiliating than this.

I could barely stand being in the same room with Luciano, especially knowing my stepdad would soon disappear into his private study again, leaving the two of us in awkward silence. The air in the dining room felt heavier than usual, thick with the smell of roasted herbs, garlic, and the faint metallic tang of tension that never seemed to leave this house.

Enzo-my stepfather, the man everyone whispered about behind closed doors as "Hades"-insisted on family dinners unless someone was physically out of the country. Every single evening, without fail, he would lecture us about loyalty, unity, and how blood (or the lack of it) didn't matter when it came to family. "Family sticks together," he'd say in that low, commanding voice of his, as if repeating the words often enough would make them true.

It felt less like love and more like control. A sacred rule carved in stone, enforced by the man who ruled this household with an iron fist wrapped in expensive suits.

'What a load of nonsense,' I cursed silently, stabbing a piece of asparagus with more force than necessary.

Truth be told, I wasn't afraid to say it to his face. I had done it before. But the last time the words "I hate you" slipped out in a moment of teenage rage, Enzo had grounded me for three straight months. No phone, no friends, no freedom. Luciano had been ordered to pick me up from school every single day like some personal watchdog. The humiliation still burned whenever I thought about it.

That black-haired jerk hadn't even let me text my boyfriend during that punishment. One afternoon, when I tried to slip away to meet someone after class, Luciano had literally thrown me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, carried me kicking and screaming to the car, and driven off while I dry-heaved from the embarrassment in front of half the student body. The smug smirk he wore that day was the exact same one he was wearing right now across the polished mahogany table.

"Jerk," I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough that Enzo might miss it.

I set the last crystal glass down with a soft clink and tried to take my usual seat at the far end of the table-directly opposite Enzo, as their weird seating arrangement always demanded. They insisted Mom sit in her designated spot beside him, which left me stuck right in front of Luciano. Every. Single. Meal.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Tiffany." Luciano's voice was calm but carried that unmistakable edge of authority he'd inherited from his father. He wiggled his index and middle fingers toward me in a mocking "come here" gesture. "Sit properly. Now."

I gripped the edge of the table so hard my knuckles turned white. I wanted nothing more than to slap that arrogant expression off his face, but I'd learned that lesson the hard way too. The last time I raised a hand against him, Enzo had punished me by making me act as Luciano's personal chauffeur for an entire month-driving him to every appointment, every training session, every late-night errand. "No hitting family," Enzo had said coldly, as if the word "family" could magically erase the fact that we weren't even related by blood.

He had never formally adopted me. That little detail made his constant lectures about loyalty and unity feel even more like a cruel joke. It was just another reason I wished both Enzo and Luciano would vanish from my life.

I was starting to wonder darker things too-things I didn't dare voice out loud. Why had my mother fallen from a moving car that night two years ago? The police had barely asked any questions. No investigation, no follow-up. Just a quiet ruling of "accident." Enzo's green eyes had been unreadable when they brought the news. Sometimes, late at night, I lay awake wondering if he had anything to do with it. The thought made my stomach twist.

"You. Where are you supposed to sit, sweetheart?" Enzo's voice rumbled low and dangerous, like distant thunder.

I flinched so hard I nearly knocked my chair over. His piercing green eyes locked onto me from across the table, sharp enough to cut glass.

"Tiffany?" Impatience sharpened his tone.

I forced a bright, fake smile onto my face, picked up my plate and cup, and moved to the correct seat beside Luciano, avoiding both their gazes. I could hear Luciano snort quietly under his breath, clearly amused by my discomfort.

"Dad!" I tried to sound cheerful but it came out strained and awkward. "I was just... adjusting things."

I pulled the chair back properly this time and sat down, spine straight, hands folded in my lap like a well-behaved doll. Then I lifted my eyes and glared straight at Enzo's face.

What an empty soul he had.

Those green eyes looked hollow, like an abandoned graveyard at midnight. His lips were pressed into a hard, unyielding line, his gaze fierce and unrelenting. Anyone else might think he was two seconds away from smashing a glass over someone's head. To me, that was just Enzo's default expression-like the devil himself had decided to wear a tailored black suit and play house.

"You look good today, Dad," I said, clearing my throat nervously. "Going somewhere important?"

Enzo actually smiled-a rare, genuine curve of his lips that somehow made him look even more dangerous. He reached across the table and placed his large hand on top of my head, then slowly slid it down to rest at the back of my neck. My entire body went rigid.

I had seen him do something like that once. A man who refused to answer his questions had been hurt repeatedly until blood poured across the metal and the poor soul passed out cold. I still wasn't sure whether Enzo knew I had witnessed it from the cracked doorway that night.

"I was just remembering the first time you met me and your mother five years ago," Enzo said, his smile widening slightly. "You came at me like a little wildcat and punched me straight in the stomach with everything you had."

"Yeah," I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the heavy weight of his hand on my neck. "And you laughed and told Luciano how small and soft my punches were. As if that was supposed to be funny."

I glanced sideways at Luciano. His gray eyes were fixed on me-almost completely emotionless, just like his father's. But there was something else lurking beneath the surface, something I couldn't quite name. It made the hairs on the back of my arms stand up.

"You were so angry when you found out your mom had moved on only seven months after your real dad cheated on her," Enzo continued, voice softening in a way that felt completely fake. "It's time for you to move on too, sweetheart."

My eyes narrowed as I flicked my gaze between the two of them. No way. They couldn't just decide the direction of my entire life simply because they were now part of my mother's world.

Still, I had to admit the truth, even if only to myself. Before Enzo entered our lives, I had been attending a crowded, underfunded public school. Then he showed up. Suddenly Mom had a sleek new car, I was transferred to an elite private academy with marble hallways and ivy-covered walls, and I received my dream phone, an entire new wardrobe, expensive jewelry, my own spacious bedroom, and a walk-in closet bigger than our old living room. The one thing he had flat-out refused? Letting me have my own car.

He had also enrolled Luciano in the same school. So every single day, the gray-eyed, silent jerk and I had to leave and return together-even if we didn't ride in the same vehicle, we were required to enter the school compound at the exact same time. It was suffocating.

Sometimes I wondered about their strange similarities and differences. Enzo had striking green eyes while Luciano's were cool gray. Yet they shared the same jet-black hair, the same faint Italian accent that thickened when they were angry, and the same preference for dressing entirely in black. In certain lights, they looked almost like reflections of each other.

"Get ready, Tiffany. Your college admission just came through," Enzo announced with a satisfied smile. "You'll be studying in the United Kingdom-exactly where I want you."

My heart soared so fast I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning like an idiot. Enzo had no idea he had just handed me the golden ticket. Away from Florida. Away from his suffocating rules. Away from Luciano. This was my chance at freedom.

Yes! I wanted to scream and dance around the table.

Instead, I kept my expression neutral and slowly chewed a piece of perfectly cooked fish, pretending the news barely affected me.

"I'll give Luciano my black card," Enzo continued smoothly. "As soon as you finish eating, the two of you will go shopping for everything you need-clothes, supplies, luggage. Make sure you get quality items."

Wait... what?

"With Luciano?" I frowned, my fork freezing mid-air. "Daddy, I'm nineteen for goodness' sake! I can drive. I can look after myself. I don't need a mean-looking babysitter dragging me around and-"

My eyes closed involuntarily as Enzo rose from his chair, leaned down, and pressed a firm kiss to my forehead. The gesture should have felt fatherly. Instead, it felt like a brand. He straightened his perfectly tailored black jacket and adjusted his cuffs.

"You both got accepted into the same program. I've already paid for a private apartment near the campus hostel. You will act like proper siblings while you're there-or you can both stay right here in Florida and remain under my direct supervision." He smirked, the expression cold and final. "Your choice."

I sat frozen, speechless, my appetite completely gone.

Why would he do this? Why tie us together even across an ocean?

Enzo glanced at his watch. "I have something to deal with, honey." He began walking toward the heavy oak door that led to his private study, then paused and called over his shoulder, "Come here, Luciano. I want you to watch how this is handled."

The door shut behind them with a heavy, final click.

For some strange reason I couldn't explain, part of me wanted to follow. To press my ear against that door and finally understand what they always did alone in that room-what secrets, what business, what darkness they shared that made the rest of the house feel like it was holding its breath.

I stared at my half-eaten plate, the weight of my new reality pressing down on my chest like a stone.

College in the UK sounded like freedom.

But going with Luciano?

That felt like trading one cage for another.

I got ready in a black blouse and a pink short flared skirt, then walked out to the car to wait for Luciano. I still couldn't believe Enzo had paid for all this just for me. Even if he didn't trust me and my choices, he could've remembered I wasn't a child anymore.

"I really hate him so much," I muttered to myself.

I hated him enough to want to do something reckless-like figure out what he hid in that private room, and run far away.

Forever. I wouldn't obviously do all that and remain in this house.

More than thirty minutes passed, and Luciano was still inside his father's private room-the one place he never let me near. A year earlier, I tried sneaking in, but before I even reached the door, Enzo had called me. That creepy man watched every move, just like his son... wait a second.

"Better not," I whispered, shaking my head as I strapped the seatbelt around my waist in the front seat.

Better not be that my stepbrother had actually seen what I was doing that morning.

"Oh snap." I slapped my forehead. "This can't be happening."

"It's happening, Tiffy."

The door opened. I glared as Luciano slid in slowly. As long as I had known him, when he was upset, he refused to let anyone else drive-unlike his father or even Mom sometimes. The fact that he might have heard what I did just now made everything a huge mess.

Without a word, Luciano started the car and drove out of the compound. In case you forgot, I always buckled up when he drove because he drove like he was trying to die, not arrive anywhere.

I held on for dear life and started scanning the car for hidden cameras. This gray-eyed guy couldn't possibly have heard me by accident.

From the corner of my eye, I caught him staring. His blank gaze had morphed into what looked like a smirk. But when I turned fully, his face went blank again.

I just didn't get it.

The idea of being stuck with him for years freaked me out completely. What if I do something crazy? What if I couldn't control myself near him.

The shopping went fine, absolutely fine. Luciano stayed in the car while I browsed. I met a nice guy shopping with someone I assumed was his girlfriend. Call me a bad girl; I didn't mind. I didn't force him to take my number though but I would like to see him again before I leave.

While I shopped and chatted, we made plans to meet that evening-though I doubted it would happen. I was supposed to see Joe, my boyfriend, instead.

Loading the bags into the car was easy; the workers helped. The only good thing about Luciano was his silence. It let me bury myself in my phone once I got in.

I smiled wide, ignoring his weird, angry look as he pulled out of the parking lot. That didn't last long. His palm suddenly covered my phone screen.

"I can do it for you," he said.

Puzzled, I shifted my legs and face away. I was angled so my back was toward him, but his hand stayed on the phone.

"Tiff. Don't hide it. I saw you." A sly smirk spread across his face. "I saw what you were doing."

Please no.

My brows shot up as I frowned. I followed his gaze to my phone, confused for a few seconds, until I looked up and saw his brows raised even higher.

Such an arrogant jerk!

I slapped his hand away and tried to convince myself it wasn't what I was thinking.

"Don't you have better things to do than spy on people's chats?" I glared. "Seriously, Luciano, that's not normal!"

He scoffed.

"Then I bet what's normal is moaning my name while you were busy with yourself?"

My heart skipped and dropped into my stomach. The smirk on his face faded into that emotionless mask where you couldn't guess what he was thinking.

Slowly, I set my phone on my thighs, rubbed my sweaty palms together, and sighed. My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water while Luciano pretended not to notice, driving with his usual blank expression.

"I-umm... you know, eh?" I stammered. "It's not what you think, Luciano. You didn't knock and I...I can... I mean...I can explain."

"Can explain how you moaned my name, didn't notice me walk in, and I watched for two minutes?" Luciano cut in. "I love your voice, by the way," he added casually. "I wouldn't mind hearing it right next to my ear."

I swallowed hard. He stood and watched me for two whole minutes! What a creep.

I crossed my thighs as I felt a flutter of sensation. Clenching didn't help; the feeling only grew worse.

"Breathe, Tiff." Luciano smirked "Look at me," he commanded.

Like an idiot, I did. Staring into those seductive gray eyes. Behind them burned something dark and forbidden.

For some reason I still didn't understand, I didn't push his hand away. I just stared at it.

Just an invitation.

A pleased smile curved his lips. He looked up at me and smirked wider. He wiggled his middle finger teasingly, then pulled back for a second before returning.

A faint gasp escaped me. I gripped both sides of the seat, bit my lower lip, and closed my eyes.

I wanted this. This was exactly what I had been aching for.

"You have to be a good girl and be patient." His voice came out hoarse. "I want you to beg for it."

A mischievous smirk appeared as he watched me snap my skirt down and clamp my legs shut. I couldn't believe I had let it go that far.

Dang it!

"You jerk!" I groaned through clenched teeth.

Luciano just shrugged and took a sharp turn toward the entrance of our father's mansion.

"What? I'm free, you know. I can be your favorite," he smirked.