MY STEP-BROTHER'S FAVORITE SIN

I stood in the elevator with my mother...Catherine, who preferred to be called by her first name like we were friends instead of family...and watched her reflection in the mirrored walls. She was nervous. I could see it in the way she kept adjusting her diamond ring, the one that was so new it still caught the light like it had something to prove.

Three weeks ago, she didn't know Harrison Ashford existed. Now she was his wife, and I was about to become the step-sibling to a man I'd only ever seen in racing magazines.

"He's probably not home," Mom said, her voice taking on that hopeful lilt it always did when she was trying to convince both of us of something. "He's usually at the track or..."

"He's home," I interrupted, watching the elevator numbers climb. Forty-two. Forty-three. Forty-four. "I can feel him."

It was a stupid thing to say, but it was true. Omegas had instincts for alphas the way dogs had instincts for storms. And right now, my entire nervous system was screaming that there was an alpha in this building. A strong one.

Mom glanced at me, her expression shifting to something more guarded. "Don't start, Eva."

"Start what?" I asked innocently, even though we both knew what she meant. My track record with alphas wasn't exactly stellar. I had a tendency to find the ones with the most interesting edges, the ones with the most to hide, the ones who were absolutely wrong for me in every conceivable way.

"Just be nice," she said. "This is a big adjustment for everyone."

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal a sprawling penthouse that looked like it had been designed by someone who'd never experienced joy in their entire life. All chrome and glass and carefully curated emptiness. No photos on the walls. No evidence that anyone actually lived here. It was a museum dedicated to wealth, not a home.

A man was waiting for us...Harrison Ashford himself. I'd only met him a handful of times before the wedding, and each time I'd been struck by how little warmth existed in his smile. He was handsome in an intimidating way, all sharp lines and colder eyes, and I could absolutely see where the son would get his looks.

"Welcome home," Harrison said, kissing Mom's cheek with the kind of affection that made me wonder if this marriage was about love or if it was about filling some void in both of their lives. "Let me show you around. Kai should be in the garage."

The garage. Of course the alpha would be in a space filled with machines and speed and danger.

As we descended into the lower levels of the penthouse, I pulled my omega instincts in tight. I'd learned the hard way that alphas could smell desperation, could sense vulnerability like sharks detected blood in water. Whatever this was about to be, I needed to go in strong. Controlled. Like I had absolutely no interest in whatever was radiating off him in waves.

That strategy lasted approximately five seconds.

The garage was enormous, filled with motorcycles that looked like they cost more than most people's houses. And standing in the center of it all, methodically cleaning one of the bikes with an intensity that suggested he was trying to solve world hunger through sheer force of will, was the alpha.

Kai Ashford.

I'd seen pictures. Magazine covers. Videos of him racing with the kind of reckless abandon that made even my omega brain...the part that was supposedly wired to want safety and stability...sit up and take notice. But none of that prepared me for the reality of him.

He was tall, muscular in the way of someone who didn't just work out but lived in his body. Leather jacket thrown over a dark shirt that did absolutely nothing to hide the lines of his chest. Dark hair that looked like it hadn't seen a comb in days. And when he finally looked up from his bike, those eyes...dark, intense, completely unimpressed with my existence...nearly made me forget how to breathe.

An alpha. An actual, full-blooded alpha in his prime, and he was looking at me like I was an inconvenience.

Perfect. Just what I needed.

"Kai, this is Eva," Harrison said, his voice taking on the careful tone of someone negotiating a hostage situation. "Eva, your brother Kai."

Brother. The word felt like a lie the moment it left his lips.

"Hey," I said, keeping my voice level, keeping my expression neutral. I'd become expert at hiding what I was feeling over the years. It was a survival skill. "Sorry to invade your space."

That's when something shifted in his expression. His pupils dilated, and I watched in real time as he caught my scent. The alpha in him recognized the omega in me, and I could practically see the exact moment his brain short-circuited.

I wasn't going to pretend I didn't notice. Wasn't going to play coy or shy or any of the games that so many omegas played with alphas. If there was one thing I'd learned in my twenty-five years of existing as an omega in a world obsessed with dynamics, it was that honesty was infinitely more dangerous than lies.

"You're in the guest wing," he said, his voice rough in a way that made my skin prickle. "Top floor, east side."

"Thanks," I said, moving down the stairs toward him slowly, deliberately. I could smell him now...leather and gasoline and something distinctly male that made my hindbrain light up like a Christmas tree. I didn't fight it. Didn't try to hide my reaction. Instead, I let a small smile play at my lips. "I'll try not to make a mess of things."

I watched his hands curl into fists, watched the muscles in his jaw clench, and felt a surge of satisfaction run through me. This was going to be interesting.

"That's probably a good idea," he said, turning back to his bike like he couldn't stand to look at me anymore. "I value my privacy."

My mother and Harrison had already moved upstairs, probably giving us space in the way people did when they didn't want to witness the chaos they'd created. It was just the two of us now, in this garage that smelled like him, surrounded by machines that represented everything he cared about.

"Don't worry," I said, moving toward him and the bikes. I was deliberately provocative. Deliberately dangerous. "I'm very good at respecting boundaries."

The lie hung in the air between us, and I knew he heard it. Knew he understood exactly what I was saying beneath the words.

I ran my fingers over the seat of his bike...the one he'd been so carefully cleaning...and felt him tense behind me. The alpha in him wanted to react. Wanted to establish dominance, to mark territory, to do all the things that alphas did when they felt threatened.

"You're the racer," I said, not looking at him yet, savoring the moment before everything changed. "Kai Ashford. I've seen your name on the circuit."

"Have you?" His voice was tight, controlled. Barely.

"Mm-hmm." I finally turned to face him, and the proximity shocked us both. I hadn't realized how close I'd moved. "Apparently, Catherine and your father met at some charity event, and there was some kind of... connection. One thing led to another, and suddenly we're moving into a penthouse with a stranger who races motorcycles for a living."

"Convenient," he said, his eyes dark and predatory in a way that made my pulse quicken. "For you."

"Maybe," I said, stepping closer. "Or maybe this is the worst possible timing for both of us."

"Don't." The word came out like a growl, and every omega instinct I possessed screamed at me to back down. To submit. To recognize the authority in that single syllable.

I ignored them all.

"Don't what?" I asked softly, closing the distance between us further. I could feel the heat radiating off him, could smell the shift in his scent as arousal mixed with frustration. "Act like I don't feel this? Like my body isn't recognizing you as something it wants?"

"Whatever this is," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "don't."

"Too late." I whispered the words, and I was close enough now to see the exact moment he stopped fighting it. "I think it started the second I smelled you."

He was beautiful when he was conflicted. The war between what he wanted and what he knew he shouldn't want played out across his face like a movie. And I was absolutely going to enjoy every second of this chaos we were about to create.

"Welcome to the penthouse," he said finally, his voice rough with suppressed emotion. Desire. Anger. Something that might have been resignation.

I smiled, and I knew it was the smile of someone who'd just found exactly what she was looking for, even if neither of us was ready to admit it yet.

"Thanks, brother," I said, emphasizing the last word like it was a joke. Because we both knew that's the last thing we'd ever be to each other.