The Mated To My Obsessive Stepbrother story is currently published to Chapter 123 and has received very positive reviews from readers, most of whom have been / are reading this story highly appreciated! Even I'm really a fan of Internet, so I'm looking forward to Chapter 123. Wait forever to have. @@ Please read Chapter 123 Mated To My Obsessive Stepbrother by author Internet here.
1 headed downstairs to join the others who were already chatting away at the dining
The table reeked of discomfort.
My maternal uncle, Greg, was there–of course. Along with my father’s cousins, Ralph and Vincent. The kind of men who wore expensive suits to hide the mediocrity clinging to their bones.
Everyone I despised seated neatly around the table like soje perfectly plated disease.
Especially Uncle Greg
The man reminded me so much of my mother. Same passive–aggressive smirks. Same polished speech. Same Hazel eyes. The woman I hated. The woman I still, fucking Dragically, loved. A contradiction I hadn’t learned how to overcome yet.
And what the fuck was Karina doing here?
Family dinner? She wasn’t family. She was an asterisk in this gathering.
She wasn’t family for fuck’s sake!
Jorja, bless her diplomatic little heart, had that signature ‘ignore–it–all–and–smile‘ expression smeared across her face like it was waterproof. She was clearly committed to enjoying her evening, even if the house was on fire- and Karina was holding the match.
This was my father’s doing. Of course, it was. He had a knack for opening our doors wide enough for snakes to slither in
A few hours ago, I had replaced Karina’s new favorite wine. The one I kept for her two days ago was empty. She surely loved it.
I know she must have attempted to look for the exact wine to buy for herself, but fuck me if I wasn’t smart enough to make sure the wine had no label.
She seemed happy. Overly, unnaturally happy. The kind of happy that switches on and off like a faulty light bulb. Dim one moment, practically glowing the next – She looked pale sometimes, and other times, she looked all energetic and pumped up.
I couldn’t wait for the puzzle I was carefully building beneath her feet to finally fall in place.
My phone beeped beside me again, and I picked it up. It was a worthy distraction from this uninteresting dinner I was being forced to have with people I could call strangers.
It was from Alfred
Alfred: Alpha, it is done. Kex fell for the bait. They are set to sign the legal contracts in five days.
My lips curled around a smirk as I picked up my glass of whiskey, raising it slightly in a silent toast to a bloodless war. Another win.
Me: How much are we looking at?
Alfred: Our guys made him strike a mouthwatering deal of a hundred and fifty million.
I scoffed, taking another sip of my whiskey in silent celebration.
TA
Chapter
A hundred and fifty million. For phantom technology–a fake Elvis prototype drawn up in just enough detail to look irresistible.
Kex was about to cut open his chest and pour his last dollar Into a grave I dug with a handshake. He was about to bleed out, and he wouldn’t even realize he’d been cut. Not until he was already too far gone to crawl back
Me: Good. Keep everything smooth until the deal is closed. I don’t want a ripple before the storm.
Alfred: Yes, Alpha. No trace. No trail.
This wasn’t just about money.
It was about power and payback
And watching Kex unravel piece by piece would be the real celebration.
I drew in a deep breath of victory.
Victory tasted good on a night this stale.
Two wins in a night wasn’t bad. Not bad at all.
But the one thing that would’ve crowned it all was missing.
I looked toward the stairs again–for the fiftieth time tonight. Maybe sixtieth. And it was still empty. I mean…
Dinner had been dragging on for well over twenty minutes now, and she still wasn’t here.
My jaw clenched.
Fuck.
“Kester, darling. You haven’t even touched your meal yet, Jorja called from across the table.
Her words barely registered. She sounded distant, like a bell tolling underwater.
“Where’s Kasmine? Why isn’t she out here?” I asked her, ignoring her earlier statement.
Jorja paused, her fork hovering mid–air. “Oh… she’s feeling a bit under the weather. Said she might not join us tonight.”
A slow churn twisted in my gut.
Sick?
Fuck
Of course, I didn’t know. What kind of man doesn’t notice when his woman is sick? Although we hadn’t spent much time together since we arrived at the pack. But that wasn’t an excuse.
I didn’t like that I didn’t know. I didn’t like that she hadn’t said anything. We were growing distant, and it was killing me slowly.
It was almost as though the packhouse was cursed. It wasn’t letting our love breathe. It keeps strangling what little love we had managed to build.
We were better off in my home. Our home.
I couldn’t wait to return home with her after her transition ceremony, which was to take place on the day of ner birthday.
+25 BONUS
Jorja blinked, surprised. “But-”
Fuck the meal.
Everything slowed… The air, the noise, my pulse. Even June’s grip on me faded into background static.
Her hair was braided to the back and pinned low, with soft tendrils framing her face like nature had shaped them with intention. Her skin, pale under the warm chandelier light, looked like it needed rest. Needed me.
Her gaze locked on mine.
Then it fell to June’s hand curled around my arm.
She blinked once, then pulled her shoulders back, holding her chin high and waving aside what she had just seen.
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