I pick up what I can of the pages off the floor, shoving them under my bed along with the torn-up book. Closing the door behind me, I make my way downstairs.
The servants are up and about, darting across all areas of the house in preparation for Kane's arrival.
I can't wrap my head around it.
Kane is coming back home for the first time in almost four years.
The last time I saw him, almost everything about our relationship changed. It was in the heat of the moment, the last thing I'd expected given our history, given the cause of what got us there.
In one moment, Kane was giving me the time of the day, something he rarely ever did. To him, I was his annoying little stepmother; nothing other than a minuscule thorn is on his side. Things had escalated the day he was set to go away for business, a start to taking over the company from my father. We squared up against each other over what I couldn't even remember, because in the next second he'd stolen my breath away, kissing me with the kind of passion I didn't think I'd ever be able to forget.
We're siblings—step-siblings.
Yet, years later, thoughts of that kiss plague my mind, day after day. It's torture, to say the least.
Kane had shown me a different side of himself before he left all those years ago. It was a split second where his meticulous persona let loose; he seemed to forgo the consequences.
The realization of what it all meant hit me like a freight train.
What would things be like between us? I always thought he would come back home sooner, but he never did, not until now. He never tried to contact me either. He always made a point to keep in touch with Emaine and my father, but never with me.
And now that the moment is finally here, now that he's actually coming back, the possibilities tunnel through my mind. They're endless.
They're wrong.
He's here!"
Emaine claps her hands together, rushing to the foyer. "Richard!" She calls for my father.
I feel my heart climb up to my throat as the servants line up, awaiting the arrival of their master's stepson.
I don't know what to do with myself. I'm not sure how to act or where to stand. I'm so nervous; I must look like a jittery mess.
"Where is he?" Dad asks, marching down the spiral staircase.
The front door opens. I hold my breath.
The sunlight streaming in through the foyer blurs my view of him.
Maids rush up to the entrance, fluttering out the door and nodding their heads in greeting as they move to unload his car.
"It's so good to have you back, dear." Emaine walks up to her son, rising up on her tiptoes to embrace him in a hug. Kane presses a hand to her back, holding it there for a second before letting go.
"You've grown even taller than me now." Dad chimes in, clapping him on the back. "We've missed you, boy; it's a pleasure having you here; there's so much we have to discuss."
The word 'boy' sticks out to me like a sore thumb. Kane might have left all those years ago as a boy, but standing before me now, he's anything but. Dad isn't lying, though; he's way taller. Even at this distance, I have to crane my head to look up at him. He's also bigger and more muscular.
Kane has always been toned; he's always had a strong build, but the years have done him well. He's bulkier now, but not in a broad sort of way. His shoulders are more squared and wider, tapering to a more slender waist. He'd traded out dark, loose-fitting jeans and T-shirts for expensive suits tailored just for him. They molded to his frame in all the right places, tight around the biceps and snug on his muscular thighs.
He runs a hand down the front of his silk tie, offering his stepfather a small smile. It's nothing but a tight pull of his mouth. He's yet to say a word, but still, it's like the air is stagnant with the intensity emanating from him. His eyes are lazy—not hard, but a bit uncaring—as he looks around the space.
"Nothing's changed." He drawls. His voice is gritty, with a deeper rasp than I remember.
My feet remain frozen. I press my hands together, holding them against my chest, waiting for him to look at me. To notice me.
"Come," His mother says this, pulling on his arm excitedly. He lets her say, "I had the maids prepare dinner already. Let's eat while we catch up. Aurelia will serve us."
I smile up at him as his mother pulls him toward where I'm standing. I hold my breath in anticipation, waiting for his eyes to meet mine, to drop down and see me, and for the recognition to light up his disinterested gaze.
"K-" The word dies on my lips the moment he moves right by me.
My heart falls.
He doesn't even glance in my direction; he walks by like there's no one.
standing right here. Like I'm invisible.
My smile fades from my lips.
Didn't he see me?
He did. He was less than an inch away from me, yet he acted as though I
wasn't even there. My brows pull together as I pivot in place, watching him walk away without a hitch in his controlled steps.
"Aurelia!" His mother calls over her shoulder, her eyebrows raised, "Didn't you hear me? Set the table."
It takes a full second for me to regain my composure. I trail after them slowly, in no rush to face him again. His reaction makes me feel like what happened the last time I saw him was nothing but a figment of my imagination. But I know it wasn't. All of it was real—way too real. So then, how do I explain this?
They're already seated at the table by the time I get there.
"So tell me," Dad says. "How has work at the company been? Is the other branch up to your standards?"
Kane is spread out in his seat, relaxed, and answering Dad's question as I set a plate in front of him. My eyes are fixed on the side of his face. There's no indication that he notices me right next to him. Not even a twitch, not even a side glance.
I set down the glasses, picking up a pitcher of orange juice to serve. "And the women? Have you thought about settling down yet?"
I'm in the middle of filling Kane's glass, but Dad's question makes me
stumble, my hand trembles, most of the drink sloshing over the rim and onto his suit pants, the rest of it spilling to the floor.
"Shit! I'm sorry." I'm frantic, picking up paper towels from the table and trying to rectify my mistake. But the liquid has soaked into the dark, expensive fabric. Kane stares, his eyes fixed on the mess I've made of him, but he doesn't say a word; he doesn't move a muscle. He lets me dab at the material like a fool, trying to collect the moisture. I reach for more paper towels, trying to clean up after myself as quickly as possible. They're further away, though, and my feet slip out from under me as I reach for them.
My body tenses, bracing for the fall.
But I don't hit the ground.
Kane's arm curls around my back, his chair scraping back. He holds me.
against him with just one arm, eyes locked on my face without a single emotion in sight. My chest burns, I'm breathless at the close proximity, and the adrenaline of the almost-fall churns in my system.
He's looking directly into my eyes, giving me the attention I was so desperate for only moments ago. His pale green eyes move slowly over my face, over my nose, my cheeks, and my lips, before moving back up to mine.
"Thank you-"
His arm loosens, his touch leaves my back, and his eyes hold my stare as my body slams to the floor.
Pain sears through my back at the impact. I let out a soft cry, grimacing as the ache spread.
He settles back into the chair, picking up a discarded towel and patting his trousers. "The women are no more than average. The same everywhere, pathetic enough when they need to be. I haven't considered settling down."
I gape at him. He just... what the hell was that?
"You act like there's a reward awaiting you for being such a train wreck." Emaine cuts hard eyes at me and says, "Must you be such a disaster all the time? At the very least, one should be able to pour a simple drink. Now that you've gone and disrupted dinner, is there anything you're truly good for? God, I should have locked you up in your room."