Falling For My Alpha Stepsister (GL)
Chapter 65: Please Don’t Go

Chapter 65: Please Don’t Go

April

This was a mistake.

I stomped down the hallway of the resort, my sandals slapping hard against the floor with every furious step.

I was having a good time here until that bitch of a devil ruined it for me.

Everything had been fine. I was shopping, drinking coconut water, laughing with Katie and Abigail, and finally feeling like I wasn’t completely out of place.

Then she had to open her mouth. Right in front of everyone, she shouted at me like I was some kid.

My teeth clamped together so hard my jaw throbbed.

How is it her fucking business what I’m wearing?

And it’s not even my fault. We were going to the beach, and Abigail suggested the flower dress. It’s not like I was comfortable wearing it, but I still tried to blend in.

I had literally tugged at the hem all morning, trying to make sure it covered enough skin, just trying to fit in with the people she surrounded herself with.

And she...

Thinking about her is just making me so fucking angry.

I was back at the resort, trying to find some simple clothes so I could leave this goddamn place before Angel Morningstar humiliated me even more than she already had.

I marched straight over to the wardrobe, dragging the doors open with a sharp creak. I found sweatpants and a jersey in the wardrobe and started putting them on when Angel entered the room.

I heard the quiet click of the door closing behind her, but I didn’t turn around. I pulled the flower-patterned top over my head, threw it onto the floor, and yanked jersey down over my chest.

I ignored her stupid face and focused on getting dressed.

She leaned against the door with her arms folded.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

Her voice came out low, raspy, and infuriatingly calm, as if she hadn’t just humiliated me in front of her friends and half the district staff.

"I’m going back home, to the mansion where I belong," I said, my voice tight and trembling as I pulled the drawstring of the sweatpants tight around my waist.

"You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying here until the wedding celebration is over."

I spun around to face her, my face burning with hot, raw rage.

What is she, my mother, to tell me what I can and can’t do with my life?

I wasn’t ready for this nonsense.

I turned my back on her, snatched my handbag off the bed, and jammed my glasses higher up the bridge of my nose. Headed toward the door, but she happened to be standing directly in my way.

She hadn’t moved an inch, her tall frame blocking the exit, her crimson eyes watching me with that stubborn, unreadable look.

"Angel, please get out of my way. I need to leave."

"Are you deaf? I said you’re not going anywhere," she said, her voice dropping an octave, completely unyielding.

"Stop acting like you own me. You don’t fucking own me. I am the owner of me, not you or anyone else. Just me. And I want to leave." I took a fast step forward, glaring right up into her face, my chest heaving with every ragged breath.

"Alright, then. I don’t own you, but I own your body. Wherever I am, you will be." She tilted her head, her dimples showing faintly as she uttered those arrogant, awful words.

"Angel, I’m not doing that shit with you anymore," I cut in. "I’m done. I’m not your fucking slut."

I took a breath, trying to keep my emotions under control.

My throat felt tight, dry, and hot, a sudden wave of sting burning behind my eyes. I refused to cry in front of her.

I refused to give her that satisfaction.

"This fucking game we’re playing... I can’t do it with you. Treating me like a whore, calling me a slut in front of everyone... that’s worse than when you used to act like I didn’t exist. Or when you kept telling the world that I wasn’t related to you, that I was just a ghost. I’d rather live like that than have you call me a slut in public..."

The silence in the room stretched out, heavy and suffocating. Angel’s smirk vanished completely, her jaw tightening as she stared down at me without saying a single word.

Calling me a slut in the bedroom felt different.

When we were alone in the dark, wrapped in sheets where nobody else could see or hear, those filthy words felt like part of the heat, part of the wild, messy connection between us.

Hearing those same words from her in public felt humiliating.

It felt like a sharp slap across my face in front of a crowd. It stripped away whatever dignity I had left, leaving me completely naked and exposed for everyone to laugh at.

I felt ashamed of myself because, in some way, it was true.

I was her slut, just like everyone else she had slept with.

She didn’t respect me. She didn’t view me as a person, or a sister, or a friend. I was just a body to her, a tool she used when she wanted to satisfy her addiction, and the second we stepped out into the daylight, she treated me like dirt.

I wasn’t a popular person, but after staying here for only one night, everyone in the district already knew I’d slept with Angel Morningstar.

And I’m sure somehow, eventually, the news would reach my mother.

I didn’t even want to think about that.

The thought of my mother’s disappointed, furious face made my stomach turn into a sickly knot.

But I didn’t want to risk something I couldn’t afford to lose.

I hated it when people forced me to do things I didn’t want to do.

My mother had been the one who started that.

For years, she had pushed me into corners, deciding what I wore, where I went, who I talked to, and how I lived my life until I felt like a hollow shell walking through her world.

I didn’t want some stupid bitch doing the same thing just because she had seen my vulnerability.

I stared right into Angel’s eyes, my chin raised, holding my ground until she finally broke the eye contact.

Angel stepped aside, she took a slow step back, moving her shoulder away from the doorframe, her arms dropping limply down to her sides.

And thank God, she didn’t act stubborn.

I didn’t wait for her to change her mind. I reached past her, my fingers shaking slightly as I reached out toward the metal handle.

The moment my hand touched the doorknob, I felt a hand wrap around me.

A warm arm slid firmly around my waist, pulling my back flush against her chest.

"Don’t leave. Please, don’t go..."