My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}

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I leaned into Adrien, my fingers curling tight into the sleeve of his tux jacket. The fine wool still held the warmth of his body, and that faint cedar-and-citrus trace of his cologne cut through the thick haze of champagne, perfume, and cigar smoke hanging over the ballroom. It steadied me just enough to keep my voice from cracking as I tugged him one careful step away from the gleaming bar, stealing a tiny bubble of space amid the glittering, laughing crowd.

"He’s staying here tonight," I whispered, my eyes flicking toward Logan. The man was already turning away from us, shoulders hunched like he was shielding something fragile, staring down into his empty tumbler before muttering low and rough to the bartender for another double.

I dragged my gaze back to Adrien’s face, those sharp green eyes I’d memorized months ago. "Just like the handful of out-of-town guests who don’t keep city apartments. Your dad definitely comped him a suite upstairs."

Adrien’s dark brows knit together; a quick, wary shadow passed behind his eyes. "Yeah. So?"

"So that means his room is upstairs. Right now." The words tumbled out faster than I could catch them, urgent and unsteady. "Adrien...this might be our only real window. If there’s anything left to find...anything at all, we have to look now. While he’s down here drowning in scotch and assuming we’re just two annoying kids who don’t know when to quit."

He stared at me for several long heartbeats, the same searching look he always gave me when he was trying to decide whether I’d finally lost it or was just borrowing insanity for the night. Then he exhaled sharply through his nose.

"No," he said, voice flat and final. "Absolutely not."

My grip tightened until the fabric bunched under my knuckles. "Why not?"

"Because it’s insanely dangerous," he murmured, pitching his voice so low it was barely more than warm breath against my ear. "He already told us—explicitly, to stay the hell out of his business. If he catches us in there..."

"He won’t," I cut in, shaking my head hard enough that a few strands of my dark hair fell across my forehead and stuck there. "He’s distracted. Half-drunk. Surrounded by people who want to shake his hand, clap his back, remind him how important he still is. This is the one moment he isn’t watching every shadow."

Adrien dragged a hand through his carefully styled hair, ruining the perfect sweep in one impatient motion. Dark strands fell messily across his brow, making him look younger, more human, more mine in that second.