My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 241

Chapter 241

As we reached the small lounge table, my mother finally looked up. Her breath hitched, and she let out a small gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes were fixed on my cheek, on the faint, yellow-green bruise I’d purposefully left uncovered.

“Oh, Ginny,” she whispered, “I… I didn’t think I hit you that hard. Did I really do that? I am so, so sorry, baby.”

I felt a sharp sting in my chest. I wanted to tell her the truth, that I had done it to myself, but I couldn’t because that will make her go nuclear on me. I just lowered my head, letting my hair fall forward to hide my face.

“It’s fine, Mom,” I mumbled, sliding into the low wicker chair across from her and Salvatore, “It’s nothing.”

Raphael sat down right next to me. He moved with the grace of a king, his expensive suit trousers pulling tight as he settled in. He was so close that our shoulders brushed, a spark of heat jumping through the fabric of my sleeve.

Salvatore reached out to pat Hazel’s hand, his expression soft, “It was an accident, Hazel. She knows you didn’t mean to.”

Under the table, Raphael shifted, crossing one long leg over the other. I felt the hard, polished leather of his dress shoe press against my calf. He didn’t just bump me, he began to slowly slide the toe of his shoe up and down my leg.

I looked at my mother. She was watching me with such sad, loving eyes, still feeling guilty for a blow she hadn’t actually landed.

“We were thinking of changing a few things around here,” Salvatore said, as he looked toward the sprawling hedges, “I was thinking of clearing out that old rose garden near the east wall. It’s a bit overgrown, and Hazel thinks some white lilies would-”

“You’ll do what?” Raphael’s voice turned harsher. He didn’t look at my mom, and he didn’t look at me. He fixed his gaze solely on his father.

“I thought-” Salvatore started, his smile faltering.

“Some things aren’t meant to be neat,” I continued, my fingers grazing his leg, “I think the roses are overgrown because they’ve been allowed to grow. There’s a history in those roots that you can’t just replant.”

I looked at Salvatore, then back at the man sitting next to me. Raphael’s jaw was still set like stone, but the dark vibration in his body was starting to fade.

“You don’t touch something that was built with that much intent,” I said softly. “It’s sacred. When someone leaves a mark like that on the world, you don’t fix it. You just let it be. To me, the wildness of the garden just shows how many years have passed. It shows her age, and how beautiful she must be by now, if she were still here to see it.”

The pressure of Raphael’s shoe against my calf changed. I felt the iron-hard muscles in his leg relax/under my touch.

Across the table, my mother was watching me. The sadness in her eyes had cleared, replaced by a look of pure, quiet pride. She didn’t say a word, but the way she gripped her tea cup told me she felt every word I said.