Dangerous Secrets: My Mafia Stepbrother

“No, I can handle it myself,” Isabella immediately headed to the bathroom. She had hesitated initially because the bathroom had a semi-transparent door. Isabella was worried that Emanuele would be able to see her while she showered, and the thought of his reaction made her anxious.

Once Isabella went into the bathroom to shower, Emanuele sat down on the nearby couch. He lit a cigarette, deep in thought. He was well aware that the events of the day were orchestrated by the Sicilian mob. He had been tirelessly working to uncover their leader, a man named Frederick Butler. Now that he had a name, the next step was to track down this man. However, Sicilian mob members were exceptionally cunning, akin to rats crawling through dark corners. Exposing them would take some time.

While he was contemplating, Emanuele glanced up and noticed Isabella in the bathroom, taking a shower. The bathroom had semi-transparent glass, offering a vague view of her silhouette. He could see her graceful figure moving within, her fair, shapely thighs, slender waist, and the curves of her breasts gently swaying as she showered. Though obscured by the mist, the occasional ambiguity seemed to evoke more imagination.

Observing her vague movements, it was clear she was washing her hair. Her chestnut hair flowed like silk, and Emanuele always enjoyed running his fingers through it, finding it even more pleasing than the most luxurious fabrics he had ever worn.

Unconsciously, Emanuele had approached the edge of the bathroom, pressed against the glass, watching the beauty inside. Isabella began somewhat cautiously but seemed to relax when she thought Emanuele was no longer paying attention.

Isabella had a bit of an obsession with cleanliness, and after getting blood on her, she felt the need to wash thoroughly, even if it meant repeating the process several times.

As she showered, she suddenly felt something was amiss. She turned her head and was horrified to see Emanuele’s figure. When had he gotten so close to the glass, watching her shower? It seemed he had been observing her for quite some time.

Startled by the sight of Emanuele, Isabella screamed.

Emanuele, instead of being flustered by being caught, merely chuckled. He stepped closer to the door and knocked. The door seemed like it was about to be forcefully opened, as if Isabella didn’t unlock it soon enough.

Feeling pressured and nervous, Isabella hastily rinsed the shower gel from her body, only to realize she had forgotten to bring her sleepwear into the bathroom. She cursed herself for being so careless.

“Isabella, open the door,” Emanuele insisted, shaking the bathroom door as if he might break it down at any moment.

In her state of panic, Isabella had no choice but to wrap herself in a towel before opening the door.

As she opened the door, Emanuele observed Isabella, wrapped in a towel. He couldn’t help but smile. Despite her efforts to cover up, her shoulders, arms, and the long legs were exposed. Due to her shower, she hadn’t put on any shoes, and Emanuele couldn’t help but gaze at her petite feet. They looked dainty and elegant, even her small, rounded toenails seemed captivating.

Emanuele felt a dryness in his throat, a burning desire welling up within him. At this moment, the thought in his mind was intensely strong-he wanted her.

Isabella clutched her towel tightly, the man before her, while expressionless, still emanated a dark desire from the depths of his eyes. She was frightened. Would he lay his hands on her? He had promised her she would marry Clark cleanly, wouldn’t he hurt her?

Though Isabella thought this way, she remained uncertain. She knew that if Emanuele wanted to, she couldn’t stop him. Emanuele now stood at the bathroom doorway, his towering presence completely blocking it, making it challenging for Isabella to pass through.

Avoiding Emanuele’s gaze, Isabella lowered her head and said, “Excuse me.”

However, Emanuele didn’t budge an inch. He was like a wall, and his eyes were fixed on her, particularly her chest. Even though Isabella tried to shield herself, it was evident that her curves were perfection. Isabella became anxious when she realized Emanuele was unresponsive.

She spoke again, “May I pass, please?”

Just as she finished her sentence, Emanuele pressed her against the adjacent wall.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

“No,” Emanuele replied.

He gently grasped her arms, his touch conveying the sensation of her freshly washed, smooth, and tender skin. Emanuele cupped Isabella’s face.

“Isabella, you’re tempting me,” his voice was husky, filled with desire.

Isabella silently prayed for divine intervention to strike down this man who would dare utter such words. He was the one who initiated this, and now he accused her of enticing him.

Isabella was scared, and at this moment, she didn’t dare to resist. Instead, she said cautiously, “I’ve always thought of you as my big brother. I have deep respect for you. How could I possibly be trying to tempt you?”

Emanuele didn’t seem to care about her words. He lowered his head and kissed her lips passionately. His kiss was intense, and Isabella could only endure his advances.

Desperately wanting to push him away, she realized his strength was overpowering. Isabella was trapped, and she felt herself getting light-headed as he kissed her forcefully.

Just then, the towel wrapped around her was yanked away by Emanuele. She had been exposed, entirely naked in front of him. Isabella screamed and tried to retrieve her towel, but her hands were pinned by Emanuele above her head. She felt helpless, like a prisoner suspended in the air. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t free herself.

Emanuele’s gaze remained locked on her, examining her naked body, an alluring painting in the soft light. He commented, “Isabella, you have a fantastic figure, as if you were made for me.”

As he spoke, he reached for Isabella’s breasts, causing her to wince in pain. She felt as though she could be violated like a helpless prostitute.

“Emanuele, let me go!” Isabella screamed, her regret growing. She’d rather face the risk of losing her life at the restaurant than endure this humiliation.

But the more Isabella resisted, the more excited Emanuele became. He buried his head in her neck, sucking and licking, trailing downward to her chest. Isabella gasped.

This demon, what did he intend to do?