Falling For My Alpha Stepsister (GL)
Chapter 60: Angel Is A Horndog

Chapter 60: Angel Is A Horndog

April

The dining area was set outside, a different place from the resort. It had a large table, one fit for a very large number of an extended family.

The ocean breeze blew across the patio as I stepped onto the wooden deck, my legs still feeling slightly heavy from last night’s drinks. Strangers sat around it. I found an empty seat and sat down.

Angel wasn’t around, saying she would join me shortly.

She never did.

A middle-aged woman sat at the head of the table, and I could see familiar faces.

The bride and groom were seated beside each other.

Abigail was leaning against her older husband’s arm, picking lazily at a plate of fresh fruit while Javier sipped his black coffee.

The sun beat down on the outdoor terrace, reflecting off the crystal glasses scattered across the white tablecloth.

Breakfast consisted mostly of seafood, baked beans, pastries, fruits and bread laid across the table, along with tropical drinks and chilled water.

The rich smell of grilled shrimp, fried fish, and warm buttery croissants filled the air, making my stomach rumble softly.

I reached for a napkin, smoothing it over my lap.

"So, you are Angel’s new fling?" the woman at the table asked.

Her voice was sharp, loud enough to cut through the quiet hum of conversation around the long table.

I kept my eyes on my plate, spreading a layer of butter over a slice of toasted bread.

I had no idea she was referring to me until someone tapped my shoulder.

A young server leaned down, whispering quietly into my ear.

"Madam is talking to you."

My face flushed hot instantly. I looked at the woman properly. My seat was farther away from hers, but my glasses let me see her clearly.

She was beautiful despite being middle-aged.

She wore a sharp silk blouse, her dark hair pinned back perfectly, her icy gaze resting firmly on my face.

"Yes ma’am...?" I squeaked, my voice catching slightly in my throat.

"So, is it true? You’re her new lover, and she brought you to the district?"

The entire table went dead silent. A few guests paused with their forks halfway to their mouths, their eyes darting over to where I was sitting.

"No... I’m not Angel’s fling. We live together in the mansion, but not as what you just said. Our mothers are married, so we’re kind of related," I explained.

I gripped my orange juice glass tight with both hands, trying to keep my voice steady while my heart hammered against my ribs.

"So, you’re the one they call April, Master’s second daughter." The Madam tilted her head, taking a slow sip from her cup.

"Yes, I am."

"I never knew sisters shared the same bed."

I froze halfway through lifting my fork.

The metal tines hovered an inch above my plate. My breath caught in my chest, a sudden wave of ice-cold panic rushing from my head straight down to my toes.

My eyes wandered to everyone staring at me.

Abigail was smirking from behind her napkin, Javier kept his gaze locked onto his coffee cup, and the strangers scattered along the sides of the table were exchanging quiet, knowing glances.

Do they all know that Angel and I sleep together?

My stomach twisted into a tight, agonizing knot.

I know the bride is aware, but...

If they all know, then my mother will know too, and she won’t be happy about my misconduct.

If a single word of this reached her ears, she would fly into a complete rage.

She spent every waking moment trying to build her perfect image as Ms. Morningstar’s respectable wife.

She might end up saying I’m trying to disgrace her and destroy the life she built.

I squeezed my knees together under the table, my pulse racing wildly in my ears.

I tried opening my mouth to explain, but...

"There’s no need to make excuses. It’s obvious. The only people Angel has ever been friendly with were her late mother. May her soul rest in peace."

The Madam set her cup down with a soft click against the saucer.

She made the sign of the cross before kissing her fingers.

"That cat of hers, And the people she sleeps with."

Her eyes shifted from Abigail to me.

Her cold, calculating gaze lingered on my top and my messy dark hair, reading every single mark Angel had left on my skin like an open book.

I swear to God, once again I felt like burying myself alive.

My cheeks burned so hot I could feel the heat radiating off my own skin.

I stared down at my lap, pulling the fabric of my skirt tight between my shaking fingers.

I knew they were judging me.

They saw me as just another weak, naive girl that Angel had broken and added to her long list of playthings.

"There’s no need to be embarrassed. Angel is a horndog. It was only a matter of time before she that stuck dick of hers inside you. I’m only surprised it took her this long."

My mouth hung open.

I stared at the older woman in absolute disbelief, my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth.

I swear a fly could have flown inside if I hadn’t forced myself to close it.

She said it so casually, right out in the open in front of many strangers, as if it was a normal daily thing.

"Welcome to the family business. Eat as much as you like. My daughter’s wedding is still going on, and this is an entertainment district. Every day is entertainment."

The Madam waved her hand dismissively, picking up her fork and digging into her grilled fish, signaling that the interrogation was officially over.

We continued eating breakfast, and when we were done, Abigail decided to take me shopping.

She pushed back her chair, grabbed her designer purse, and gestured for me to follow her down toward the main street of the district.

I still hadn’t seen that Angel of a girl.

She hadn’t shown up to breakfast, hadn’t sent a text, and was nowhere to be seen along the sunlit walkways.

Katie joined us too.

She came bouncing down the wooden stairs from the main resort building, wearing a bright sundress and giant sunglasses.

I had no idea she was still in the district.

I blinked in shock as she ran over, waving her arms frantically to catch our attention. Surprisingly, she had also taken a few days off work.

Using the same excuse she always did.

She was in heat.

I remembered the dozens of calls from her, telling me she had a fever and couldn’t make it.

All those dramatic text messages she had sent me over the past few months, whining about her temperature, asking me to cover her desk shifts at the library, and swearing she was stuck in bed sick.

So it had all been a lie.

I just shook my head in disbelief as she bumped my shoulder and began telling me about her new harem sex life.