Claimed And Marked By Her Stepbrother Mates novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82: 82-The Stepbro I Needed

Helanie:

"They have the best coffee," Emmet said as he placed an order for both of us. He ordered a variety of dishes, making it clear he was ready to devour them all.

He had casually rolled up his sleeves, even the cuffs of his coat, without a second thought about ruining the sharp creases.

The weather was pleasant. This pack was a small one but I believe they had some affiliation with the rogue king.

"I’m sorry for not accepting that bag. I just don’t want your brothers to think I’m a gold digger," I said, initiating the topic myself. Sitting across from him made my cheeks flush with heat.

"Why do you care what they think?" he asked, his gaze steady. "You see, they’ve realized that by calling you a gold digger, they can manipulate you. The moment you stop accepting help, they win. Tell me something."

He leaned back in his seat, awkwardly trying to adjust his legs under the small table without touching mine. The space was cramped, and his tall, broad-shouldered frame made it even more challenging.

"Have you always been this quiet? Always so concerned about what others think of you?" he asked. His question made me nod instinctively, without hesitation. That was exactly how I had lived my life until now.

Every day, I’d feel self-conscious when delivering baked goods to the pack members, overhearing their whispered remarks. If someone commented that my dress looked too tight, I’d starve myself to loosen it because I couldn’t afford to buy new clothes.

It happened often.

I’d even change my hairstyle just to avoid giving the pack members any reason to criticize me.

"And how did that go?" he asked gently. "Did it make you everyone’s favorite?"

Tears pricked my eyes as I shook my head, unable to respond.

"I see. Then why try so hard?" he continued, his voice softer now. "Instead of living to please others, why not just focus on doing the right thing? I’m not asking you to lose your mind or act recklessly, but you don’t need to let your world revolve around what others think of you."

The more he spoke, the more memories of my time in the pack resurfaced, each word cutting deeper.

"Helanie, let me give you a simple example," he said, his tone taking on a reflective quality. "Imagine two brothers. One tries desperately to be perfect—always punctual, always doing whatever he thinks will earn him approval from his parents. The other just acts like himself. He works hard, does the right thing, but doesn’t linger around for praise or worry about what people think."

He paused, his eyes drifting as if lost in thought. Adjusting his collar with long, slender fingers, he continued, "Now, when the first brother—the perfect one—makes even the smallest mistake, everyone pounces on it. They say, ’Ah! The mask slipped. See, we knew you weren’t so perfect after all.’ But when the other brother, who doesn’t even care about impressing anyone, does the smallest kind gesture, everyone appreciates him. They say, ’See? We knew he was good at heart.’"

He finished speaking and focused on my face, studying me to see if I understood his point.

"My point is, no matter what you do, people will always find a way to criticize you. If you’re perceived as bad, they’ll constantly remind you that you’re capable of doing good. But if you’re too good or seemingly perfect, they’ll search for flaws in you. So, do things for yourself, not for the approval of others. Don’t be entirely selfish—do good, but not for the reaction it will get."

He gestured to the bag sitting on the chair beside him. "That’s why I’m telling you this. I bought all this for you as a gift for your first day at the academy, and I want you to keep it."

I glanced at the bag, then back at him, flashing a small smile. He was so cool.

"You explain things so well," I complimented him. He shrugged, brushing off the praise as the food arrived.

"Please, help yourself," he said, pointing at the dishes. Clearly, he had no time for more conversation once the food was in front of him. He began devouring sandwiches one after another. I was astonished to see how a large sandwich disappeared in just two bites.

Well, I should’ve known. For someone his size, food was clearly fuel.

"How can someone be so perfect?" I asked absentmindedly, and he immediately burst into laughter, mouth full. It was the first time I’d seen him laugh so hard.

"See? You’re doing it too," he said, grinning, which made a frown form on my face. _{fɾēewebnσveℓ.com}

"I’m not perfect. Helanie, I don’t even care about what people think. But somehow, they still say I’m good and perfect." He was clever, effortlessly weaving his own advice into the situation.

No wonder he was the best professor at the academy.

After finishing the meal, he paid the bill, and we got back into his car. He handed me the key to the hostel and dropped me off at the main entrance.

"Thank you," I said, leaning down to speak through the window.

"Let me know if you need anything, okay? And don’t let anyone pick on you. If they do, remind them you’re my stepsister."