My Stepbrother's Forbidden Love

Fiona

The cold stone wall pressed against my cheek, jolting me awake.

Another day. Another day in hell.

I opened my eyes to the familiar darkness that instantly swallowed me whole. The basement had only that one flickering incandescent bulb, dying like a firefly's last breath.

The iron shackle around my ankle clanked with every movement—a sound that had been my companion for... how many days now?

I struggled to sit up, reaching toward the wall. It was covered in scratches, each one carved by my own fingernails.

One, two, three...

My fingers trembled as I counted those marks. Two thousand five hundred and fifty-seven.

Seven years. Seven whole years.

"Dear God," I whispered into the emptiness. "How have I endured all these years?"

Seven years ago, I was still that naive 22-year-old who thought love could conquer anything. Seven years later, I'd become a walking corpse in this dark cage.

Memories crashed over me like a tidal wave, even though I desperately tried to forget.

"Don't be afraid, Fiona. I'll always protect you," Maxwell had promised.

That was when I first met Maxwell at age 10. My mom had just brought this 17-year-old boy home from the orphanage, saying he'd be my brother from now on.

He had those deep blue eyes, that gentle smile, and arms that made me feel safe.

Back then, I really thought I was the luckiest girl in the world. A loving mother, a protective brother, and the most beautiful vineyard in the Willamette Valley as my home.

I had no idea Mom was scheming from the very beginning.

"Remember, darling," Mom would whisper, "Maxwell is destined to inherit everything. The two of you together would keep the Reed legacy intact."

From age 15, Mom kept repeating these words in my ear. I thought she was joking. Maxwell was my brother—how could we possibly...

But my heart, somehow, had started developing those forbidden feelings for him.

Watching him with Helen made my chest ache. Hearing about their engagement plans kept me up all night. I thought it was just a little girl's innocent crush, something that would fade as I grew up.

I was wrong.

"Mother knows best... He will love you, he must love you..." her fractured voice drifted through the wall.

Mom's deranged muttering drifted from the cell next door. For seven years, she'd been locked up beside me, her mind completely shattered.

"Mom..." I called out weakly. "Are you okay?"

But she couldn't hear me, just kept repeating the same words over and over.

The sound of keys turning in the iron door made me tense up. I knew who was coming.

Maxwell pushed through the door carrying a tray. He was still as handsome as ever, but his eyes were infinitely colder than seven years ago. Now when he looked at me, it was like staring at an enemy.

"Food." He set the tray down emotionlessly—moldy bread and murky water.

I struggled to support myself, trying to sit up straighter. "Maxwell..."

"Shut up." He cut me off coldly. "I don't want to hear your voice."

"I just wanted to say—"

"Say what?" He suddenly whirled around, blue eyes blazing with fury. "That you and your mother are so innocent? That you were forced into it?"

I opened my mouth but no sound came out.

"Seven years, Fiona. You two destroyed everything between Helen and me!" His voice shook with rage. "I could have married her, had a normal life, been happy!"

"I know..." Tears streamed down my face. "I know we were wrong..."

"You wanted me to be responsible? I'll show you exactly what that means—a lifetime of consequences."

Those were his first words after our forced wedding. From that moment, I knew my life was over.

"Do you remember that night?" Maxwell suddenly crouched down, getting in my face. "Your mother drugged me, then sent you to my bed. The next day she brought reporters to take photos and blackmail me into marrying you."

I closed my eyes, unable to face his angry expression.

"I craved your heart, not just your name and your ring," I thought bitterly.

But I could never say it out loud. Because I knew it would only make him angrier.

"Eat this. I don't want to watch you starve to death in here." He stood up to leave.

"Maxwell!" I suddenly called out loudly.

He stopped but didn't turn around.

"Helen... is she okay?"

A long silence.

"She married someone else." His voice carried endless pain. "Because of you two, I lost the only woman I'll ever love."

The iron door slammed shut, leaving me alone in the darkness.

I reached for the moldy bread, but the moment I took a bite, searing pain tore through my stomach.

"Ah!" I doubled over in agony, my whole body convulsing.

This pain had been going on for months. I knew I was sick—seriously sick. But I hadn't told anyone because I didn't want Maxwell thinking I was fishing for sympathy.

The pain intensified, and I felt something warm flowing from my mouth. Looking down, I saw bright red blood drops on my white prison uniform, shocking against the fabric.

Stomach cancer.

Even without a doctor's diagnosis, I knew that's what I had. Seven years of torture, terrible conditions, and psychological despair had finally destroyed my body.

"Sweetheart... Maxwell will love you..." Mom's deranged mumbling drifted from next door again.

I wanted to laugh, but it made the pain worse.

Love me? He wished I was dead. And honestly, I wished I could die soon too. This kind of existence was just too exhausting.

More and more blood flowed as my vision began to blur.

So this was what dying felt like? It wasn't as scary as I'd imagined.

I struggled to lift my head toward that weak light. In my delirium, I seemed to see the sunshine from when I was 10 again, Maxwell's gentle smile.

"Maxwell..." I used my last bit of strength to call his name. "If I could do it over, I'd rather have let you two be together..."

Everything grew darker as I felt my soul leaving this broken body.

"Every breath I've taken has been for you, but you'll go to your grave never knowing the truth," I thought as consciousness slipped away.

"Because what I felt was doomed before it even began—a poisoned seed that could never yield anything but pain."

Before losing consciousness completely, I used my last ounce of strength to pray:

"If souls truly get second chances," I prayed, "let me return as someone who helps his happiness rather than destroys it."

"In another life, perhaps I could be the one who brings them together instead of tearing them apart."

Darkness swallowed everything.

This time, I could finally be free.

In life's final second, I heard my heartbeat stop. Then, everything fell silent.