Claimed by His Stepbrother

"Babe, hurry up!" Paul's voice carried from downstairs, loud enough that I almost messed up my mascara line.

"I'm coming!" I shouted back, leaning closer into the mirror. I quickly touched up my lashes and pressed a bit of nude lip gloss, with a tint of red that made my lips look alive but not too much.

I gave myself one last glance in the mirror, smiled at the reflection like, okay, not bad, then grabbed my purse and hurried out.

Paul was bent over his phone when I came down the stairs. The way his head snapped up when he heard my heels clicking against the marble floor made me giggle. His mouth literally dropped open.

"What?" I tried to hide my laugh, blushing and biting my lip.

"Mi Amor, you're so gorgeous."

Oh my God, he always knows what to say. Every single day, he finds one way or the other to remind me he loves me. And I love him back, more than he even knows.

When I got to the last step, before I could steady myself, he came over and picked me up like I was light as air, spinning me around before putting me down again. He kissed me, deep and sweet, and for a moment I thought we should just stay home.

As if he read my mind, he whispered against my lips, "Should we just skip this whole thing and go back upstairs?"

His mouth was still on mine, making it hard to think. I almost said yes.

I pulled back, even though I didn't want to."No, Paul. You know this event is important. Maybe not for us, but for your brother."

"Stepbrother," he corrected instantly, rolling his eyes "I really don't feel like going, Amor."

"Come on," I teased, leaning into his ear. "We don't have to stay long. Thirty minutes tops, then we sneak back home. And I promise, we'll have our own fun tonight."

That earned me his smile, finally. "Shall we?" he asked and winked at me, all playful again.

I nodded, and just like that we stepped out of the house together.

***

The car pulled up in front of the hall, which looked ridiculously grand. Paul got out first, then reached for me. I took his arm, linking mine through his, and we walked in.

Soft music floated in the air, the buzz of people talking, glasses clinking, cameras flashing bright in our faces as soon as we entered. It was giving a red-carpet, business vibe. Everywhere I turned were faces that either owned something important or controlled someone who did.

"Your stepbrother sure knows how to show off." I whispered, leaning closer to Paul.

I felt his body stiffen beside me, but he didn't reply.

We greeted people as we moved further inside-smiles, handshakes, nods. Some were Paul's business partners, others just familiar faces we saw in circles like this. Eventually, Paul got pulled into some long, boring conversation with a tall man in a