STEPUNCLE DISCIPLINES ME PART I
1238 Words
I let out a heavy sigh and rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might stay that way. Dante's voice was still echoing in my head like an annoying alarm I couldn’t shut off. “You're not going to the club tonight, end of discussion.” His words had been firm, his tone bossy, and the worst part? I had actually listened.
I didn’t argue, didn’t roll my eyes in front of him, didn’t even mutter something under my breath like I usually would. I just nodded like some obedient little schoolgirl. Ugh. The memory made my skin crawl.
But I didn’t have much of a choice. Ever since my dad married Dante’s older sister, everything changed. My dad and his new wife had flown off for their honeymoon—or “business trip” as they called it, like I didn’t know what that meant—and I got stuck here. With him.
Dante Romano.
The guy who was now apparently in charge of me until they got back. Just great.
He was only a few years older than me, but he acted like he was thirty and I was twelve. Always serious, always frowning, always giving out rules like I was living in some military camp. No going out late. No bringing friends over. No loud music. And definitely, absolutely, no clubs.
And okay, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he was just a regular guy. But no. Of course not. That would’ve been too easy.
He had to be hot. Like, stupid hot. The kind of hot that made you stare without even realizing it until he smirked and caught you. Tall, strong arms, that perfectly messy dark hair that looked like he’d just run his hands through it after a shower, and a jawline so sharp it could cut glass. And don’t even get me started on his voice—deep, smooth, and bossy in a way that made my stomach twist in the worst way.
It pissed me off.
Because even though he was controlling and full of himself, even though he acted like I was some reckless teenager who needed babysitting… I still found him attractive.
And that made me angry with myself more than anything.
He had gone out tonight. Just strolled out the door like it was nothing, all dressed in black jeans, a snug shirt that clung a little too well to his chest, and a leather jacket that made him look like trouble on legs. His last words to me had been, “Don’t even think about stepping foot outside, princess.”
Princess. That word made my hands curl into fists. He always said it like it was some kind of insult, like I was just a spoiled brat. Maybe I was, a little. But still, he didn’t have to act like he knew me.
The moment the door slammed shut behind him, I just stood there in the hallway, staring at it, chewing my bottom lip, debating. Should I go? Should I sneak out, just to prove I wasn’t afraid of him?
My favorite black dress was already laid out on the bed. My makeup bag was open on the dresser. I had even sprayed perfume before I realized I wasn’t going anywhere.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes looked tired, and my hair was pulled back in a lazy ponytail. I had changed into pajamas—soft pink shorts and a tank top—after pacing the room like a caged animal for ten full minutes.
I wanted to go out so badly. The music, the dancing, the laughter. I could practically hear it in my head.
But then I thought of my dad. The way he hugged me before he left. The worry in his eyes when he said, “Please, just behave, okay? Don’t make me regret this.”
And just like that, the fight left me.
I had promised him I’d stay out of trouble. And even though I hated how Dante treated me like a kid, I didn’t want to break my dad’s trust. If Dante found out I went out after he told me not to, he’d definitely report me. He’d probably do it just to prove a point.
So now here I was. Sitting cross-legged on my bed, scrolling through my phone, pretending not to care. But I did care. I cared a lot. About everything. About being stuck here. About Dante’s rules. About how unfair it all felt. And, most of all, about how messed up it was that I kept thinking about him.
I tossed my phone aside with more force than I meant to. It bounced off the edge of the bed and landed on the carpet with a soft thud. I didn't even bother picking it up. I was too annoyed, too restless, and honestly, too bored to care. I flopped onto my back and stared up at the ceiling like it had all the answers to this annoying situation I was stuck in.
The silence was too loud.
The quiet wasn’t peaceful. It was the kind that made you feel uncomfortable. Like something was missing. The only sound in the room was the slow, steady ticking of the wall clock. Tick. Tick. Tick. Every tick reminded me that time was crawling by. And every now and then, I’d hear a car pass on the street outside, its tires humming against the pavement before fading away into nothingness.
But there was no music. No laughter. No people. No excitement. Nothing that made me feel alive.
Just me.
Sitting in a big, silent house with way too many rules and a hot, bossy step-uncle who seemed to enjoy making my life difficult.
I sighed again—loud and dramatic this time—and kicked my legs on the bed like a frustrated child. I tugged at the hem of my tank top, my fingers twisting the soft fabric as my mind drifted to Dante.
Where was he right now?
Was he out drinking with friends? Hanging out at some bar where girls stared at him like he was a god? Or worse… was he at a club? The same kind of club he told me I wasn’t allowed to go to?
That would be so typical of him. Dante liked rules. But mostly, he liked when I followed them while he did whatever the hell he wanted.
I sat up slowly, crossing my legs under me and glancing toward the window. The street outside was dark. The porch light was still on, casting a yellow glow across the empty driveway. His car was gone. He was definitely out. Probably having fun. Laughing. Maybe even flirting.
Meanwhile, I was stuck here. In pajamas. In his house. Feeling like a grounded teenager, even though I hadn’t done a single thing wrong.
I let out another sigh, this one heavier than the last.
I couldn’t sit here any longer. I needed to move. Do something. Anything.
Without even thinking it through, I stood up. My socks slid a little on the hardwood floor as I walked to my bedroom door and peeked out into the hallway. It was quiet. The kind of quiet that made your heart beat a little faster, like you were sneaking around even if you weren’t doing anything wrong yet.
My gaze drifted down the hall.
Dante’s room.
- Writer
