My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}

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Adrien turned to me, his expression a mix of betrayal and exasperation, as if I’d just suggested we invite a vampire to a garlic festival. "Noah—"

"He’s Logan’s nephew," I pressed, meeting Adrien’s eyes. "If anyone understands how he thinks, it’s Ethan. What if we’re fumbling in the dark and he’s the flashlight we need?"

Ethan crossed his arms again, ever the skeptic, eyeing us both cautiously, but I caught a flicker of curiosity beneath the doubt.

"And why should I care?" he asked, bewilderment in his voice. "Especially when this is coming from him?"

His gaze shifted to Adrien, the past resentment bubbling up again, creating tense air between them. "Why would I risk anything for Adrien Asshole Fell? Last I checked, we weren’t exactly sending each other Christmas cards."

I didn’t argue. I just stepped closer to Ethan, the carpet muffling my footsteps, and before I could overthink it, I reached out and took his hand. His skin was warm, surprisingly soft and I felt that familiar spark zipping between us, even amidst this chaos. "Because Logan won’t stop controlling your life as long as his secrets stay hidden,"

I said softly, my eyes locked onto his. "You know that better than anyone. You’ve lived it...the manipulation, the abuse, the way he twists everything to keep you in line."

Ethan tensed, his fingers curling in mine, but he didn’t pull away, which I saw as a small win in this emotional tug-of-war. I continued, thumb brushing over his knuckles in what I hoped was reassuring, though I was a bundle of nerves.

"If he really was involved in Joanne’s death, then exposing that means he loses his power. Over everyone, over you. Imagine that, Ethan...you deserve that freedom."

Something shifted in Ethan’s expression; the defensiveness cracked like a dam under pressure. I watched as his jaw tightened, gaze dropping to the floor, as if the plush carpet had the answers to all his pains.

Ethan exhaled slowly, a relieved breath escaping him, and he finally met my gaze again, anger fading into something heavier, more wounded.

"I don’t trust this," he confessed, laying his cards on the table. "And I definitely don’t trust you," he added, glancing back at Adrien, who was still holding onto skepticism.