My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 282

Chapter 282

Gianna

I stayed in that corner for a while, my fingers digging so hard into my palms wall that my nails felt like they might snap. My heart wasn’t just beating, it was thumping against my ribs like it was trapped and trying to kick its way out.

I was shaking, not the good kind of shaking, not the sweet, soft drift after a climax. This was a electric tremor of pure, unboiled rage. Raphael had left me standing there, my body feeling like a wire pulled too tight, aching and soaking wet. I could still feel the ghost of his fingers, but the heat was gone, replaced by the cold air of the gallery that made my skin crawl.

I watched his broad shoulders disappear into the crowd. I watched him walk away with that woman, his head tilted toward her as if I hadn’t just been coming apart under his touch seconds ago.

The way he had looked back at me, the way he had sucked his fingers while staring right into my soul, it was branded into the back of my head. It was stuck there forever. I knew that even if I married someone else, even when I’m old and wrinkled, I’ll think back to this exact moment and my body will remember. I’ll probably still orgasm just from the memory.

I wanted to smash my champagne glass against the back of his head.

Slowly, the noise of the gallery began to change. The loud, buzzing energy of the opening started to settle. People were saying goodbye, putting on their coats, and trickling out the tall front doors into the night. The waiters were moving faster now, clearing away empty glasses and folded napkins. The show was ending, but the fire in my gut was only getting hotter.

I tried to fix my hair, but my hands were trembling. I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to make my face look normal, even though my skin felt flushed and my pulse was still thundering in my ears.

“There you are!”

A pair of arms wrapped around my shoulders from behind, startling a small, sharp gasp out of me. I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat, only to see Claire’s beaming face. She looked exhausted but triumphant, her eyes glowing with the success of the night.

“The doors are locked, the checks are signed, and I am officially a hit!” she squealed, pulling me into a quick, tight hug.

I gave a genuine wide smile, “You were amazing, Claire. The work… it was actually beautiful.”

Claire’s hand finally landed on my shoulder. It was light, almost like she was checking to see if I was still there.

“I didn’t paint that to be beautiful, Gianna,” she murmured, her thumb rubbing a small circle against my skin, But I just want you to know that I’m here. I’m always here. You don’t have to explain the ‘why’ to me. I’ll just listen.”

I looked at her, seeing the quiet understanding in her eyes. She knew. She didn’t know the specifics, but she knew the feeling of being hunted, of being used, and of being trapped.

“Thanks, Claire,” I breathed, feeling a tiny bit of the tension leak out of my shoulders.

“Don’t thank me,” she said, and tossed her hair back and pointed toward the stairs. “Now, let’s go. I think those Italian brothers are probably going to start a fight if I don’t get there in time.”

I nodded, adjusting the silk of my dress and followed her. She grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the stairs, “I’m taking you upstairs for the private dinner. My family is finally all here, the whole group. You’re going to meet the inner circle. The ‘Cosa Nostra’ side of the guest list but it’s just my friends, men aren’t here.”