Six months ago, my mother married Richard Carter, changing my life overnight.
Before that, it had just been the two of us—my mother and me—struggling to get by in our tiny apartment. She worked two jobs, barely sleeping, just to make sure I had everything I needed. When Richard came into the picture, it felt like a dream come true for her. He was wealthy, powerful, and treated her like she was the most precious thing in the world.
For her, it was a fairytale.
For me, it was a nightmare.
Moving into the Carter mansion was like stepping into another universe. The house was enormous, with marble floors, high ceilings, and more rooms than I could count. It didn't feel like home—it felt like a museum. Cold and unfamiliar.
But nothing was more unfamiliar than Ethan.
I had never met him before the wedding. He had been studying abroad, and from what I heard, he wasn't exactly close to his father. The first time I saw him was at the ceremony itself—standing in the back, hands in his pockets, looking bored out of his mind. He hadn't even stayed for the reception.
I should have taken that as a sign to stay away.
But fate had other plans.
Now, we lived under the same roof, bound by a family that didn't feel real. We weren't blood, but we might as well have been because the world saw us as siblings.
Which meant whatever was happening between us—the stolen glances, the unspoken tension—it was wrong.
And yet, I couldn't stop thinking about him.