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

We returned to the stage and the girls seemed to enjoy the occasion. They saw themselves as objects to be sold.


I know what I'm about to do will anger a lot of people, including these girls.


But somebody's got to be the villain, right?


I pulled a dagger out of my tight dress. Speaking of which, this thing has a long history, so tell it to my dear Marco if I get a chance.


The party started and Marco took me to the second floor, which was a great place to watch and not be disturbed.


I watched with interest the people downstairs, their bodies bare, and many of them began to sink into a sea of s.exual desire.


“Marco, do you like girls like that?” I pointed to the popular girl and observed his reaction.


Sadly, he didn't respond: “Honey, I don't react to all women. I'm not like them.”


I laughed in my heart and stood up. “I'm going to change my clothes. It's too cold here.”


Then I went straight down another corridor.


77 New Plans