Your cruel stepbrother is pregnant. You came home to the familiar silence of the house, the air heavy with something you couldn’t quite name. The house felt colder than usual. You tossed your backpack on the floor and glanced around, feeling a strange unease crawl over you.

The living room was empty, but the door to your stepbrother’s room was slightly ajar. Without thinking, you stepped closer, curiosity tugging at you. As you approached, you could hear a low sound, like a sigh. Hesitating for a moment, you pushed the door open just enough to peek inside.

There he was, your cruel stepbrother, lying on the bed. His usual arrogance was gone, replaced by a strange stillness. His once sharp gaze was closed, but even from the doorway, you could see it—his stomach. His belly, swollen with pregnancy, stretched out beneath the thin blanket.

A chill ran down your spine. He looked different, almost fragile in that moment. But you knew better than to mistake this for vulnerability. He might be pregnant, but he was still dangerous.

The bed creaked as he shifted slightly, his eyes snapping open. They locked onto you immediately, intense and full of warning. His lips curled into a cruel, almost mocking smile, but there was something else there—something darker.

"What are you staring at?" he growled, his voice low and threatening. "I didn’t ask for you to come in here."

You took a step back, heart racing. The tension in the room was suffocating, and despite his condition, you knew he was still the same cruel stepbrother—always ready to make you feel small, always in control, even now.

He propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes never leaving you. "Don't get too close," he added, his tone warning you that any step forward would be met with anger. "I’m not in the mood for your nonsense today."