The rest of the day passed in a blur of luxury I didn't ask for.
The house was massive. Marble floors, velvet couches, art I didn't understand, and a housekeeper who flinched every time I tried to help clear a plate.
Mom was living her best life, twirling through the mansion like she belonged. She'd already picked up the Blackwood accent—that fake polished tone rich people use when they pretend everything's perfect.
"Isn't this place just dreamy?" she gushed, linking her arm through mine as we walked through the east wing. "And Gregory says you can start at Brookline Academy next week. Can you believe it? You'll be going to one of the top prep schools in the country!"
I nodded mutely.
I wasn't thinking about schools or clothes or the fact that my new stepfather's pool was the size of our old apartment complex.
I was thinking about him.
Theo Blackwood.
His stare.
His warning.
His stupid perfect jawline.
He was everywhere. Every corner of this house felt like him. Cold. Expensive. Unreachable.
And worst of all… he was right down the hall.
Later that night, I curled up in bed with my phone and a knot in my stomach.
New school. New city. New family. And a stepbrother who looked at me like he wanted to break me—and maybe do a lot more than just that.
I couldn't sleep.
So I wandered.
Soft footsteps on marble. Oversized hoodie. Phone light dim.
I just wanted water.
That was all.
But fate had other plans.
As I passed the library, I heard a voice. Low. Rough. Angry.
I paused at the door.
"You shouldn't have brought them here, Dad."
Theo.
My breath caught. I stepped back instinctively, but his voice kept me frozen.
"They're not like us. She's not like us."
There was a pause.
Then Gregory's deeper voice, calm and tired. "She's your stepsister, Theo. Not your problem. Leave her alone."
Another pause.
Then: "That's exactly the problem."
I didn't wait to hear more.
I ran back to my room like a coward.
But my chest was tight. My heart louder than my thoughts.
What the hell did that mean?
The next morning was worse.
Theo wasn't just cold.
He was ice.
He didn't look at me. Didn't speak. Didn't even acknowledge me when I sat across from him at breakfast.
Mom tried to break the tension with small talk and fresh fruit. Gregory read the stock reports like the world didn't exist.
Theo just sat there, sipping his black coffee like it was laced with poison and staring past me like I was invisible.
Fine.
If he wanted a war, I'd give him one.
"Aria?"
Gregory called me to his study later that afternoon. My heart pounded as I stepped inside. The room smelled like expensive leather and money.
He smiled warmly. "I heard you're adjusting well."
I blinked. "I mean… trying."
He chuckled. "You'll find this house can be… complicated."
I didn't know what that meant, so I stayed quiet.
He slid a credit card across the desk.
"For you."
I stared.
"I can't take this—"
"It's yours. Get whatever you need. Clothes, books, a new phone if you want. I want you to feel comfortable here."
"Thank you… Mr. Blackwood."
He smiled again. "Call me Gregory."
My throat tightened. "Okay. Thank you… Gregory."
His gaze lingered a moment too long. Not creepy exactly, but heavy.
Like he was reading me.
"You're very… mature for your age," he said slowly.
A chill ran through me.
I forced a polite smile and grabbed the card.
"Thank you. I'll… go now."
As I turned to leave, I nearly collided with Theo in the doorway.
Of course he was standing there.
Watching.
Listening.
His jaw was set. His eyes darker than usual.
"Move," I muttered, brushing past him.
But he didn't move.
His hand gripped my wrist, firm but not painful. His voice was quiet. Dangerous.
"What did he say to you?"
"Nothing that concerns you."
"I saw the card."
"So?"
"So I told you to stay out of my world."
I yanked my hand free. "I didn't ask to be in your world. Your father put me here."
His jaw ticked. His fingers curled into a fist at his side.
"You don't know him."
"No," I snapped. "But I know you. And I'm starting to think you're the bigger problem."
His expression shifted. From cold… to something else. Something unreadable.
Then, so low I barely heard him:
"You shouldn't walk around here after dark."
I narrowed my eyes. "Why?"
He leaned closer. Close enough for his breath to hit my skin.
"Because you're making people notice you. And I won't always be there to stop them."
My breath caught.
"What are you talking about?"
But he didn't answer.
He walked away like nothing happened, leaving me shaken and confused in the hallway.
Later that night, I lay awake again, staring at the ceiling.
This house was suffocating.
These people were unreadable.
And Theo…
He was impossible.
One minute he warned me.
The next, he acted like I was the one crossing a line.
I didn't know where I stood.
And the worst part?
I wanted him to look at me again.
Touch me.
Anything.
A soft knock on my door broke the silence around midnight.
I sat up, heart racing.
"Who is it?" I whispered.
No answer.
I crept to the door and opened it slowly.
No one was there.
But something had been left on the floor.
A note.
My hands trembled as I picked it up and read the single line:
You're not safe here. Stay in your room tonight. – T
My heart jumped.
I clutched the paper tighter, scanning the empty hallway.
Theo?
Why?
What did he mean?
What was going to happen?
And why, even with the warning echoing in my chest, did it still feel like he was the only one watching out for me?