I had to grit my teeth to keep from lashing out in anger, which was my default response whenever I hit a wall—and that was exactly where I currently stood.
"You're my stepbrother," I pointed out.
But he merely shook his head as he ate a bit more, forcing me to do the same while waiting for him to pour another drink.
There was an art to it—knowing how to balance food with strong alcohol spirits.
"We're not related by blood," he responded.
I couldn't help the frown that appeared on my face.
"…You know your father?" I asked.
He shook his head again, a cold look settling in his eyes. His tone matched it when he spoke.
"No. Not that it matters. Even if I was your half-brother, I would still fuck you."
The words were beginning to grate on my nerves, and I struggled to maintain a calm, unbothered façade.
He met my gaze as he spoke.
