My Stepbrother Wants Me-Chapter 146: Going Out With The Tat Guy

Julian’s POV

I made my way down the staircase, my head throbbing in a steady pulse that felt like a hammer against my skull. I hadn’t slept for more than two hours. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the sting of Catherine’s palm against my cheek and heard the word slut echoing back at me in my own voice. I knew I had crossed a line. I knew I had let the jealousy transform me into something I hated, but the sight of that leather jacket in her room had felt like a physical assault.

The dining room was already occupied when I walked in. Richard was sitting at the head of the table, his plate pushed aside, completely absorbed in his tablet. He looked refreshed, triumphant even. My mother was seated to his right, picking at a piece of dry toast and looking anywhere but at the empty chair where Catherine usually sat.

Lucy was there, too. She was looking too dressed for just breakfast, leaning toward Richard and whispering something that made him chuckle. The sight of her in our home, acting like she belonged at our table, made the bile rise in my throat.

I pulled out my chair and sat down heavily. I didn’t reach for the food. I just poured myself a cup of black coffee, my hands suddenly shaking.

"Julian! Good of you to join us," Richard said, finally looking up from his screen. He looked like he wanted to give me a medal. "Have you seen the morning headlines? We’re front-page news. The ’reconciliation of the year.’ Even the harshest critics are calling it a masterstroke. The Foundation’s stock is already seeing a bounce."

"Glad you’re happy," I muttered, staring into the dark depths of my coffee.

"Happy? I’m ecstatic," Richard replied, sliding his phone across the table so I could see a photo of the kiss from the night before. "This is exactly what we needed. Stability. Romance. A united front. You really did well, Julian. Very well."

I didn’t look at the phone. I just gripped my cup tighter. The slap from last night felt like it was still burning on my skin. I was a puppet, and the strings were starting to chafe until I was raw. I felt a deep, hollow ache in my chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the fact that I was sitting here with Lucy while the woman I actually loved was probably upstairs crying because of me.

The sound of clicking heels on the floor made everyone look up.

Catherine entered the room. She wasn’t in her pajamas or a dressing gown. She was fully dressed in a fitted outfit that made her look sexy and more mature than her age, more sophisticated, and entirely out of reach. Her hair was pulled back, her makeup was flawless, and her expression was like a wall of ice.

She didn’t look at me. She didn’t even glance in my direction. She walked straight to Lisa and leaned down, kissing her mother on the cheek.

"I’m headed out, Mom," Catherine said. Her voice was steady, cool, and completely devoid of the emotion that had been there last night. "I wanted to let you know I won’t be back for lunch."

"Oh? Where are you going, honey?" Lisa asked, her eyes searching Catherine’s face.

"I just have somewhere to go," Catherine replied. She stood up straight and turned to leave, treating me as if I were a piece of furniture in the room. There was no anger in her gaze, just a terrifying, blank indifference. It was worse than the slap.

"Wait a minute, Catherine," Lucy chirped, her voice cutting through the tension. She leaned back in her chair, a fake, curious smile on her face. "You’re so dashingly dressed up just for a morning out. Tell me... Is it because you’re going out with that handsome guy from last night? The one with the tattoos?"

I felt my heart stop. My grip on the coffee cup tightened until my knuckles were white. I looked at Catherine, waiting for her to snap, waiting for her to deny it, waiting for some sign that last night with Dante had been a mistake.

Catherine stopped and turned slowly to look at Lucy. I braced myself for a confrontation, for the comeback, for the defense.

Instead, Catherine smiled. It was a small, serene, and devastatingly beautiful smile.

"Actually, yes," Catherine said, her voice light and pleasant. "I’m meeting Dante for coffee. He’s taking me to a spot he thinks I’ll like. Why do you ask?"

Lucy’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but I didn’t care about her reaction. I was looking at Catherine. She looked so happy, so free of the weight of this house, and she was going to spend her morning with a man who wasn’t me. A man who didn’t have to hide her. A man who hadn’t called her names in the dark.

"I was just curious," Lucy muttered, looking back at her plate.

"Well, I shouldn’t keep him waiting," Catherine said. She gave a general nod to the room, still avoiding my eyes, and walked out. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

The silence that followed was deafening. I could hear the tick of the clock in the hallway. I could hear Richard’s rhythmic tapping on his phone. But all I could feel was a white-hot, blinding fury that started in my gut and surged through my entire body.

Dante. She was going to see him again. She was still meeting him, even though I showed how jealous I was.

I looked down at the coffee cup in my hand. My fingers were clamped around the handle with so much force that the glass looked like it was groaning. I could feel the heat of the liquid through it, but I didn’t care. I wanted to throw the cup against the wall. I wanted to flip the table. I wanted to go out there and drag her back.

But I couldn’t move. I was trapped here with my father’s "success" and the girl he had chosen for me.

I felt a hairline fracture in the porcelain beneath my thumb. A tiny drop of coffee leaked out, stinging my skin. I didn’t let go. I just sat there, staring at the empty doorway where Catherine had stood, my vision blurring with a murderous rage that I had nowhere to put.

"Julian? Are you alright?" Lisa asked softly.

I didn’t answer. I just squeezed the cup until I heard a distinct snap, the handle finally giving way. I didn’t care about the mess. I didn’t care about the breakfast. I just cared about the fact that Catherine was going to someone else— another man!