My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 538

Chapter 538

My heart legit stopped beating for a while.

Me: And?

Raph: And I’ve recently discovered that I was wrong.

For a solid five seconds, I just sat there blinking at my phone.

Was this Raphael?

The same Raphael who treated emotions like unexploded bombs?

The same Raphael who could discuss homicide, international business, and cyber security without blinking, bu looked personally offended whenever someone asked how he felt?

I looked at the message again, grinned, and then bit my lip to hide it from everyone.

Me: You can’t just say things like that.

Raph: Why not?

Me: Because they make my heart do weird things.

Several seconds passed without a reply from him.

Raph: Good.

My eyes widened.

Me: Good?

Raph: Mine has been doing weird things for months. It seems fair.

There was absolutely no way this conversation was real.

No way.

Not Raphael.

I stared at the message, then reread it and reread it again. Heat rushed into my face so fast I actually looked around the cabin to make sure nobody could somehow see my phone. My heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my throat.

Raphael Capone did not send messages like that.

Raphael Capone sent messages about security protocols and traffic routes. And reasons why I shouldn’t wander off by myself.

Not whatever this was.

Me: I think you hit your head.

The reply came almost immediately.

Raph: I did not.

Me: Are you sure?

1/4

Raph: Yes.

My stomach flipped.

This was actually happening.

+15 Boras

For months I had imagined conversations like this, then convinced myself they would never happen, then imagined them again, then convinced myself I was being ridiculous.

And now Raphael was casually destroying my sanity through text messages while probably sitting somewhere looking completely calm.

Me: Did you just admit that I make you nervous?

Raph: No.

I smiled slightly.

Me: You literally did.

Raph: I said my heart behaves differently around you.

Me: That is the same thing.

Raph: It is not.

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks were already warm. I looked around the quiet cabin, making sure nobody could somehow see my expression.

Me: I’m starting to think somebody stole Raphael Capone’s phone. The man I know would have replied with a five -page essay explaining why feelings are statistically inefficient.

Raph: That’s an exaggeration.

Me: It’s really not.

Me: Whatever happened to “You’re my best friend, Gianna”?

The typing bubble appeared and I found myself staring at it way too hard.

Raph: I never stopped meaning that.

Raph: You’re still my best friend.

My stomach sank a little before I could stop it.

Then another message arrived.

Raph: You’re just not only my best friend.

Raph: And before you start panicking…

Raph: No, I am not elaborating further over text.

Me: Coward.

Raph: Correct.

Me: Since when?

2/4

+15 Bom.s

Raph: Since every conversation with you became dangerous.

Raph: And I don’t like feeling out of control.

Me: Do I make you feel out of control?

The response came almost immediately.

Raph: Constantly.

My heart did something ridiculous.

Me: You make me sound like a problem.

Raph: You are.

Me: Wow.

Raph: A significant one.

Me: Raphael!

The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared and then appeared again.

When the next message finally popped up, it was a solid block of text and it took longer for me to read and understand it.

Raph: But you are a problem I fully intend to own. You want proof of how real this is?

The typing bubble flashed for a fraction of a second, and then the next text came.

Raph: The next time I have you behind a locked door, I am going to pin your knees to your tits… that’s it, that’s all you’re going to get from me.

I froze, completely froze. My eyes widened so much they actually hurt. I reread the message because sometimes letters moved around when I was tired. Sometimes my brain filled in words that weren’t there.

What?

Where had that even come from?

I sat up a little straighter, staring at my phone. I mean… we had- Well. Not recently, not in a very long time, not since I had put an end to all of that.

And Raphael had respected it, painfully respected it.

He never pushed, never brought it up, never tried to argue. We hadn’t even properly held hands in months.

Months.

And now he was casually dropping messages like that into a conversation? My heart was beating so fast it was ridiculous. I looked at the text again because apparently I had lost all common sense.

3/4

+15 Banus