Mated To My Obsessive Stepbrother novel Chapter 39

Chapter 39

KESTER.

I dropped my phone onto the passenger seat, exhaling slowly as I rubbed my palm over my face. For the hundredth time, I had checked, second–guessed, and reassured myself that I was doing this right. It felt unnatural, unfamiliar–but the urge to make Kasmine happy had become something I could no longer ignore

I didn’t know how to do things like this. Romance, relationships… they had never been my forte. Not because! didn’t indulge in women, but because I had never actually felt anything for any of them, but now I was willing to learn.

I had never been in a relationship where I actually felt something for the woman before. It’s safe to say Kasmine was the first. The only one who had ever made me feel anything real. And whatever this feeling was–this restless, possessive, all–consuming need–it was evolving into something I couldn’t define.

Something more.

I had no guide for this. No experience to draw from. So, like a goddamn fool, I had resorted to seeking help.

I’d taken advice. Read things I would never have otherwise considered. Even enrolled in some absurd online classes meant to teach men how to treat a woman in a relationship.

The sheer ridiculousness of it had made me scoff at myself. I’d almost laughed out loud as I transferred the payment for one of the classes two days ago, rolling my eyes at the irony of a man like me paying to be taught feelings.

Norlan, my best friend, was still not back from Germany, even after he had promised to return last week. He should have been here. He was the one person who knew me better than I knew myself, the only one I trusted to help me navigate this madness.

But he’s been trying in his own capacity. He had done his best from afar, sending me tips and suggesting things I could do to make Kasmine happy.

Yes. Norlan knew. He knew everything about my obsession, my frustration, the way Kasmine had wormed her way beneath my skin in a way no one else ever had.

I stepped out of my car in the parking lot of the grand shopping mall, Carla Verloza–every young woman’s dream shopping center.

Opulence dripped from every inch of the place. Gilded accents, high glass windows, a polished white exterior that gleamed under the afternoon sun. Everything about it screamed wealth, indulgence, and exclusivity. Not my usual kind of setting

I checked my wristwatch once more, a subtle attempt to steady myself before pushing forward as I headed straight for the reception.

This had better be worth it.

Cool, crisp air wrapped around me, infused with the delicate scents of expensive perfumes and luxury skincare products. The soft hum of elegant chatter filled the space, accompanied by the faint rustle of shopping bags and the muted click of designer heels against marble floors.

I barely had time to take in the details before a woman at the reception desk turned her eyes on me.

She was stunning–one of those effortlessly elegant types who knew how to carry themselves with refined confidence. Her dark hair was pinned into a sleek chignon, highlighting the high curve of her cheekbones and the glossy pink hue of her lips. Her fitted cream–colored dress was modest yet tailored in a way that accentuated her.

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Chapter 79

figure

And her smile–bright, professional, yet brimming with something else curved as she recognized me

“Alpha Kester,” she greeted, her voice light, melodic, almost teasing “What an honor to have you here at Carla Verloza’s. I must say, we don’t often get visitors of your staire.”

I didn’t react. I never did in situations like this. If she expected me to be flattered, she’d be disappointed.

“I’m waiting for someone,” I said flatly, sliding my hands into my pockets. “I need somewhere private.”

Her gaze lingered on me, assessing me. And then, with a practiced, graceful motion, she gestured toward a hallway leading deeper into the bull

“Of course,” she said. “Right this way, Alpha.”

She turned, leading me through the corridor, and I followed without a word. But I wasn’t blind. I noticed the way her posture shifted subtly, the deliberate sway of her hips, the way she cast a glance back at me just long enough for her lashes to flutter as if gauging my reaction

She stopped at a set of frosted glass doors, placing a manicured hand against the panel to push them open. Inside, the exclusive waiting ball was exactly what I expected lavish yet minimalistic. Plush seating, sleek black furniture, and soft golden lighting cast everything in a warm, indulgent glow.

“This room is reserved for our VIP guests,” she informed me, stepping aside as I walked in. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable, Alpha. Would you like a drink? Perhaps a glass of Carla Verloza’s signature red?”

I finally looked at her. Just long enough to make her stiffen slightly under my gaze.

I took a seat, leaning back into the soft leather as she poured my wine and spoke, “Stories about your conquest and achievements had traveled so far and wide that I knew about you even before I returned from the Philippines, where I went to study.” She said, and I only nodded. Of course, everyone should know about me. Should I be flattered about all she just said?

1 scrolled through my messages, re–reading conversations, checking everything for the hundredth time, until my phone rang.