Chapter 47 Fuck Me Drunk Stepbrother

Chapter 47 Fuck Me Drunk Stepbrother
Melissa’s POV
“You have no right to speak to me like that, Jordan!” my mother lashed out, tears rolling down her cheeks, leaving me wondering—
What if she’s actually telling the truth? What if I’m the one overthinking things just because, deep down, I still want to be with Jason and Jordan?
Just because, deep down… I still want to fuck my stepbrothers once more.
Why do I suddenly believe Chloe was telling the truth? For all I know, she might be lying—just bitter that I was the one getting everything good.
“Both of you!” my mother snapped, pointing at Jordan, whose face held nothing but mockery. No remorse. No regret. Not even a hint of guilt over what he’d said earlier.
“You might want to rethink what I said earlier, Mrs. Taylor,” Jason broke in, his voice cold as he addressed my mom by her name. “You have no place here. So quit trying to be my mother, because you’re not—and you never will be.”
And just like that, Jason stormed off to his room, the guards unable to stop him. Not after my mother had pleaded with Gabriel not to have me expelled as well.
I thought the whole drama was over—maybe it was, because Jordan didn’t seem interested in dragging things further with her.
“Hey… are you okay?” Gabriel asked softly, lifting my mother’s chin, looking at her like she was all that mattered.
Pfft. I mean… she practically is. He just stood there and watched her slap his son—and did nothing.
“Let this be the last time you ever disrespect Rose again,” Gabriel warned, anger and concern laced in his voice as he pointed at Jordan.
Jordan scoffed.
“And let today be the last time you ever hit me, Rose,” he shot back.
I gasped.
It was bad enough his brother had called her Mrs. Taylor, knowing she was about to marry their father—but Jordan? He used her first name. Just like that.
“It’s going to be a long ride,” I muttered under my breath, watching him walk away.
My mother, on the other hand, wouldn’t stop shouting after him, even though he clearly wasn’t listening.
“Is that supposed to be a threat? Huh? How can your brother call my baby a bastard? Huh?”
“Hey, sweetheart, you do not need to stress yourself over those riffraff. I’ve dealt with them all by myself over the years, so it’s okay. I’ll take care of them.”
“Are you sure?” my mother asked, her face lighting up a bit.
“Yes, they will come around. I promise you.” Gabriel pulled my mother’s head close enough to his chest, while I just shook my head, picked up a glass of water, and downed it.
After I was done, I heaved a sigh and was about to leave when Gabriel’s voice halted me in my tracks.
“Did you really do what Jason accused you of?”
“And why would you ask me that question?” I snapped, irritated, my chest rising and falling.
My mother knows I wasn’t really into Gabriel. I’ve just been maintaining my cool to make her happy—nothing special.
“It’s just a simple question—yes or no. Because if these words get out that—”
“You will be the one whose career is ruined. So deal with it. After all, you have a name to protect, Mr. Gabriel Brookes,” I responded angrily, taking my leave.
“Since when did this generation start becoming rude to their parents?” I heard Gabriel whisper, and my mom couldn’t help but answer, “I think it’s the Gen Z kind of attitude. What do you think?”
“I think it’s getting out of control,” he replied—and that was when I froze.
I halted in my tracks, my hand placed on the doorknob. “Mr. Gabriel,” I called out, and he looked up from my mom’s shoulder.
“You know, you should, for once, try to take your sons and their feelings seriously. Everything shouldn’t be about you. It makes you selfish and unworthy of them,” I said, my voice laced with anger, remembering how Jason had been moved to tears.
“Are you really saying that to me?” he lashed back, but I wasn’t having it either.
“You know you can do better.” I flinched slightly. “Your best is not enough,” were the last words I said before leaving them both at the table, with the maids who dared not move an inch—not until we were all done.
As soon as I left, I made my way toward Jason’s room. I just needed to apologize and let him know I would never do such a thing to him. But by the time I got there, he wasn’t around.
“Jason?” I called, but I was met with eerie silence—and his phone was lying on the bed, messages chiming.
“Jason?” I stepped in, checking the bathroom, but no one was there. Everything was just… quiet.
“I just want to talk,” I muttered, knocking on the bathroom door, but there was no answer.
Just then, I stepped on one of the keyholders used for opening a bottle of whiskey, lying on the floor.
“Was he drinking?” I questioned, about to head out, when I suddenly bumped into him at the door.
His shirt was slightly open, his hair rough and scattered—and gosh, he even looked hotter.
“Mmm… my cutie pie finally showed up. I like it when you come to me yourself,” he muttered, gently pushing me back and locking the door behind him.
“Jason, what are you—”
“I want you so badly, Melissa.”
“You don’t mean what you’re saying. You’re drunk.”
“I meant every word,” he smirked, reaching out to pull me closer, his hard form pressing against me.