Falling For My Alpha Stepsister (GL)

There we were in a fancy restaurant, sitting across from each other.

The soft, golden lighting cast long shadows over our table, the quiet hum of low classical music vibrating faintly through the heavy air of the dining room. I had my hands folded tight in my lap under the table, my fingers digging into my own palms to keep myself from showing even a hint of nervousness.

Angel drove me to a restaurant I had never been to.

I was impressed by the itinerary.

She had actually taken the time to pick a spot that matched the high-end illustrations I had glued into the notebook, following the plan with a strange, methodical precision that didn’t fit her chaotic nature at all.

This place screamed money, and looking around the quiet restaurant, all I could see were classy rich people in suits.

Every single table was occupied by older and young couples whispering to each other, the soft glint of diamond rings and expensive watches catching the light whenever they moved their hands.

I stared at my dress.

It happened to be my work clothes.

Angel brought me to this place without even letting me go home to change into something better.

She had basically dragged me straight from the counter into the front seat of her car, entirely focused on hitting her ridiculous seven-day deadline without wasting a single minute.

While feeling insecure about my outfit, my eyes stopped at Angel’s.

I looked up from my lap, my gaze cutting across the small space of the table as the sudden silence between us grew too heavy to ignore.

Behind the menu, she too had been staring at me.

She gave a small cough, lowered the menu, and signaled for the waiter to come to our table.

She snapped her fingers with a sharp, crisp sound, her legs shifting under the table as the young man hurried over with a notebook ready.

We both ordered what we wanted, and while waiting for our food, Angel kept smiling at me.

She leaned her chin on the palm of her hand, the tailored cuff of her tuxedo jacket sliding back to expose the sharp lines of her wrist as she kept her gaze fixed on my face.

I adjusted myself.

”Stop staring at me like that,” I said, feeling a bit shy inside.

I kept my voice down to a low whisper, my eyes darting toward the neighboring tables to make sure nobody was paying attention to our awkward exchange.

”Why should I stop staring at a beauty right in front of me?” she said with a voice that sounded different from her usual teasing one.

”Stop saying that,” I muttered.

”You want me to stop saying that you’re gorgeous the way you look? Okay, fine, I’ll stop. You wanted me to do everything in the book. Complimenting a date every single minute about her beauty... nonsense.”

She threw her head back with a short, irritated sigh, her shoulders slumping into a relaxed posture as she dropped the soft tone completely.

She was back to her usual voice.

The low, arrogant husky tone returned instantly, completely wiping away the strange, romantic illusion she had built just a second ago.

Should have known.

A wave of relief mixed with bitter annoyance washed over me, a reminder that every single movement she made was just a calculated play to win the bet.

I should focus on my mission, not her turning the tables around.

I adjusted my glasses with a sharp flick of my finger, hardening my heart and pulling my professional wall back up before she could find another crack.

”Nonsense. That is really inappropriate to say to your date. And who goes on a date looking like this? Look at the way I’m dressed.”

I gestured down toward my plain skirt, my voice sharp and bleeding all the frustration I had been holding onto since she picked me up from the library.

”What is wrong with your outfit?” she asked, looking at me from head to toe.

”This is not a date dress.”

”There’s nothing wrong with the blouse and skirt. You’re beautiful anyway, stop complaining...”

She dismissed the complaint with a lazy wave of her hand, her tone entirely casual...

She said that, then started loosening her tie a bit.

Her fingers tugged at the dark silk knot, pulling it free from her collar with a sharp, impatient movement that completely broke her formal look.

She unbuttoned her coat, then unbuttoned half of her shirt, ruining the perfect dressed-up style.

The black fabric parted, exposing the smooth skin of her throat and the dark, twisting lines of the tattoos climbing up toward her collarbone.

”That guy in the picture really tried. Who dresses like this for hours and stays comfortable doing it?” she said, then drank a glass of water.

”You know, a perfect date should be about being yourself and not trying to cover who you are. On our second date, I’m not wearing a tuxedo, and you should also wear whatever makes you comfortable,” Angel said.

All I did was stare at my fake date.

My brain stalled on her words, a strange confusion settling into my chest as I tried to separate the bully from the woman sitting right in front of me.

Acting the same, yet different at the same time.

Then our food was brought to us.

The wide white plates were set down between us with a soft click, the rich scent of seared meat and heavy butter filling the small space instantly.

Angel, being the perfect gentleman, noticed I was struggling to cut my steak, and she helped me without asking.

She reached across the table, sliding my plate away from my fingers before I could even object, her sharp knife gliding through the thick meat with effortless grace. She slid the perfectly cut pieces back into place in front of me, her crimson eyes tracking my expression with a silent, heavy intensity.

I don’t know if she was just doing what was in the book, but she really was making this fake thing feel real.

My heart gave a sudden, dangerous thump against my ribs, a wave of heat rushing up to my ears as I picked up my fork with trembling fingers.

”So, what do you look for in a relationship?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

”Relationship? What kind?” she asked.

She paused with her fork halfway to her mouth, her eyebrows pulling together as if I had just asked her a question in a completely foreign language.

”Let me ask again. Have you ever been in a romantic relationship before?”

I leaned forward slightly, leaning my elbows on the edge of the table, determined to uncover some kind of weakness in her history.

”Oh, yes, I have. During high school. But we ended it after college.”

She chewed her food slowly, her tone completely flat and devoid of any lingering emotion as she looked back out toward the main dining area.

”So you have loved someone once.”

”I did not. It happened to be an alliance between my parents and the girl’s parents. It wasn’t a love story.... What about you? Have you ever been in a relationship before?”

She swirled the water in her glass, her eyes narrowing slightly as she turned the question back onto me with a sudden, sharp intensity.

”Well, no relationship in my past, but recently I had a crush on someone.”

”Oh, the Beta girl.”

Angel didn’t even hesitate, the name dropping out of her mouth with a cold, mocking certainty that made my jaw clench tight.

”...But it’s over. No more crushing on her.”

I adjusted my glasses fiercely, keeping my tone as firm and final as possible to show her that the topic was completely dead to me.

”Why? I thought you guys kissed on the first date.”

Seriously, I need to lecture Katie about what she should and shouldn’t say about my personal life to others.

The sheer amount of information my coworker had shared over a single phone call was completely ridiculous, and I was going to kill her tomorrow morning.

I can’t believe she told Angel everything about Benny.

The feeling of being exposed made my skin turn hot, a deep frustration building up in my chest as I realized how defenseless I actually was.

So we went quiet and kept eating our food.

Then I started hearing voices.

”Oh, my God, is that Angel Morningstar... and is that her new girlfriend?”