My Stepbrother Wants Me Chapter 112: I Took Care Of Her

Catherine’s POV

After the dinner from hell, I got into my room, waiting. My heart skipped a beat every ti a floorboard creaked in the hallway.

While waiting, I kept counting the minutes until everyone would fall asleep. I wanted Julian. I wanted to finish what we started, not just for the heat of it, but because I needed to feel sothing other than the fear and dislike I had for Richard.

A soft knock startled . I jumped, my eyes darting to the door.

"Who is it?" I whispered, my voice tight.

"It’s Gabriel," ca the muffled reply.

I blew out a breath of both relief and annoyance, then stood up and smoothed my shirt, walking over to pull the door open. I didn’t step aside.

"Hey," I said. "Everything okay?"

Gabriel stood there, looking at with a sheepish, lopsided grin. "What, no ’co in’? Are you hiding a body in there, Catherine?"

"Ha-ha," I replied, forcing a smile as I stepped back. "No. Just... I was about to go to bed. It’s been a long day."

Gabriel entered, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looked around the room as if searching for sothing, then turned back to , scratching the back of his head in an uneasy way like he was about to say sothing serious.

"Uhh, I just wanted to co by and... say I’m sorry," he muttered.

I tilted my head, genuinely confused. "Sorry for what, Gabriel?"

"For the dinner. For Richard," he said. "I heard he was pretty rough on you when he got back this afternoon. I should have been here. I should have stepped in."

I let out a low, dry laugh, crossing my arms over my chest. "Gabriel, thank you, but I think your apology should go to Julian. He’s the one who took the brunt of the scolding. He’s the one Richard through all the insults on."

Gabriel let out a soft, dismissive chuckle, shaking his head. "Julian? Don’t worry about him. He’s used to it, Catherine. He’s been Richard’s punching bag—verbally, anyway—since we were kids. He has skin like a rhino. But you... you’re new to this. I’m sure it’s your first ti seeing Richard that furious."

I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the air conditioning. Used to it. The words felt like a physical blow. Gabriel had no idea. He didn’t know about the iron. He didn’t know about the true story of sending Julian to an asylum. He thought Julian’s "thick skin" was a natural trait, not a series of callouses built over horrific scars. It made realize just how alone Julian had been in this house.

"He’s not as used to it as you think," I said quietly.

Gabriel blinked, surprised by my tone. He opened his mouth to say sothing, then thought better of it. "Right. Well. Anyway, I just wanted to say it. Get so sleep, Catherine."

"Yeah. Goodnight, Gabriel."

He gave a final nod and left, closing the door softly. I stood there for a long ti, the weight of his ignorance pressing down on . Julian wasn’t just a "bad boy" or a "rebel." He was a survivor of a war.

Two hours crawled by. I lay on top of my covers, staring at the ceiling, until my phone buzzed.

Julian:At the back of the house. Near the ivy wall.

I frowned, my thumbs flying over the screen. :What are you doing out there? I thought I was coming to your room.

Julian:Too risky. et there.

I didn’t argue. I slipped on a pair of slippers and a hoodie, moving through the house like a ghost.

I found Julian leaning against the stone wall, a shadow among shadows. He didn’t say a word; he just took my hand and led away from the main house. We walked toward the far edge of the mansion, where the manicured lawn gave way to overgrown shrubs and a building that looked like it belonged in a gothic novel.

It was the old solarium, a glass-and-stone structure that had once been a library.

Julian closed the door behind us and turned to . I saw the raw, hungry look in his eyes.

"Is this ’safe’ enough for you?" he rasped, pulling into his space.

"Julian," I breathed, my hands finding his chest. "Are you sure no one is going to find us here? I an... the securities??"

"No, now stop worrying and get your naughty Wildie catty self out," he said, his voice dropping into that low growl. He pressed his forehead against mine.

I wasn’t sure that side of could get out now, so I just pulled back and folded my hands.

"I know, I understand. The dinner... seeing him look at you like you were just another piece of his campaign. I wanted to kill him, Catherine. I wanted to take that knife and—"

"Stop," I interrupted, sliding my hands up to cup his face. "That’s not who you are."

Julian pulled back slightly, a dark, cynical smile twisting his lips. "I can’t help it. Richard is doing too much. He doesn’t just want power over the state; he wants power over our minds. He wants us to feel like puppets. He wants you to think I’m weak, and he wants to think you’re his newest favorite toy."

"I’m nobody’s toy," I hissed.

"I know you aren’t," he whispered, his eyes trailing down to my lips. He reached out, his thumb tracing the line where I’d bitten my lip earlier. "But we have to be careful. He’s more dangerous when he’s smiling than when he’s yelling. If he finds out about us... truly finds out... he won’t just send us away. He’ll make sure we can never speak to each other again."

I shivered, the reality of our situation dampening the heat between us for a mont.

"Julian," I said, my voice turning serious as a thought struck . "What about Lucy?"

His posture stiffened.

"I forgot to ntion...," he paused. ".... I’ve taken care of her."

"Huh?"