When I turned 18, my mother married my stepfather, a retired mafia kingpin, and I moved with her into a luxurious mansion.
Just when I thought my life was heading toward happiness, my stepbrother, the new mafia boss, stormed into my life.
He was like a devil, with delicate eyebrows, a high, sharp nose, and lips that were always tightly pressed together beneath a cold expression. Every time our eyes met, I felt a chill run through me, making it hard to breathe.
I tried my best to avoid him, but he had no intention of letting me go.
“My stepsister, from the moment I first saw you, I knew I couldn’t let you go. You can’t escape—you’re destined to be mine.”
I stared into his possessive eyes as his body pressed down on mine.
“No, you're my stepbrother, we can't……"

Falling for My Mafia Stepbrother

I couldn’t really refuse this wedding—after all, I was already caught up in this kind of life and had accepted the benefits it brought me.


Finally, the wedding day arrived. Before dawn, I was woken up from sleep and brought to a spacious dressing room. I hadn’t seen my groom yet—he’d be waiting for me at the altar.


I was wearing a blush silk robe. After freshening up, I put on a face mask to make sure my skin was in perfect condition. A photographer was there the entire time, recording everything I did on my wedding day. Mom said it would be a beautiful memory to look back on.


Then, it was time for the long makeup session. The makeup artist started with my eyes, using champagne and gold shades to accentuate them, outlining my eye shape with black eyeliner, making them pop. She lengthened and curled my lashes, finishing with a touch of silver glitter under my eyes for some extra sparkle.


21 Gunshots at the Wedding