"Mind your fucking business too, Mrs Banks." I shouted, cutting her off. "You never asked for my opinion at all, so if my speaking to your stepson doesn't sit well with you, suit yourself."
I picked up my backpack and stormed out of the dining room, rushing outside the house.
....
The morning after our first real standoff, the house felt like a battlefield. Every footstep echoed too loudly, every door creaked under my nerves. I kept imagining Lucian's sharp gaze lurking behind every corner, waiting to punish me for some imaginary crime.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I slipped on my night robe. I looked haggard. I was trying to convince myself that it was overstudying but deep down, I knew the real cause of my sudden haggardness.
A soft knock on my door drew my attention back to reality.
"Ezran dear, we need to talk."
Mom pushed the door open with a smile on her face. A nervous smile actually.
"If you're here to lecture me on how to talk to your new family, please don't start. I have a dozen school assignments to complete by tonight."
She sighed loudly, taking slow steps towards me. She stopped in front of me, her eyes locked on mine.
"I'm sorry for everything. For forcing you to accept my new family." She paused and brushed her fingers softly into my hair. "But please, I need you to make this work. I need you to accept Robert and his children."
"Well, I'm sorry for how I sounded in the morning. I'll apologize to Robert and the girls for the disrespect."
A smile curled up on her face and she pulled me into a hug, wrapping her arms around my waist.
"And Lucian. Won't you apologize to him?"
"Never." I mumbled stubbornly.
She laughed softly, patting my back. "Come downstairs for dinner. I asked the maids to cook to your preference today."
I gave her a slight nod.
...
Dinner was silent after my morning outburst. Jeanne chirped beside me, trying to fill the void with stories about her college friends, but I only half-listened. My mind kept drifting to Lucian. He didn't speak much, as always, but there was a quiet intensity about him that made me hyper-aware of every movement, every word.
"Ezran, don't look so grumpy," Jeanne whispered, nudging my arm. "It's dinner, not a death sentence."
I forced a smile, nudging her arm back. She giggled, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.
And then I saw him. Lucian, sitting at the head of the table, coffee in hand, eyes following me like a hawk. It was infuriating. Everything about him screamed control: his posture, the sharp lines of his jaw, the dark intensity in his eyes. He could crush me with a word, and I hated myself for noticing the pull of it.
"Uh..I want to apologize for earlier on. That didn't speak well of my upbringing. I apologize."
Robert gave me a calm smile, his large palms resting on mine. "I'm glad you owned up to your mistake, kid. I'm super proud of you and I'll reward you for being responsible."
I nodded and turned my eyes to the girls. Charlyn shrugged her shoulders and went back to her meal, Jenna squeezed my palms softly.
My eyes drifted off to Lucian and I found him staring right back at me.
"Apology accepted," he said flatly. No warmth. No inflection beyond the bare minimum.
"Yeah," I muttered back, careful not to give him anything to use against me.
Two days in this shared household was already so much torture. Our interactions were minimal but electric. The environment was tense and choked up especially with the way Lucian was staring at me.
The way he observed me when I wasn't paying attention-everything set me on edge.
Dinner was over and soon, everyone went to bed. I had taken my laptop to the living room; the house was quiet, the only light coming from the glow of my screen. I was deep in coding, fingers flying over the keyboard, when I sensed movement behind me.
"Ezran."
My heart skipped a beat. I froze.
"I need to talk to you." Lucian said, his voice, low and controlled, yet somehow cutting through the silence like a blade.
I swallowed hard. "Talk about what?"
"Your attitude," he said simply, sitting on a couch, arms crossed. His presence was oppressive. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't.
"My attitude?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though my pulse was betraying me. "I'm not the one who spoke rudely first, you are the real predator."
His eyebrows lifted. "I am no predator. You are the problem."
I shot up from the couch, shoving my laptop aside. "Problem? You think I'm the problem? You don't even know me!"
"I know enough," he said quietly, stepping closer. His proximity was dangerous. My pulse raced, and I hated how aware I was of the warmth radiating off him.
"And you don't know what it means to be part of a family like mine. You need to learn boundaries. Now or never."
I opened my mouth to retort, but something in his eyes-something sharp, piercing, commanding, stopped me. He didn't need to touch me to assert dominance; his presence was enough.
I stepped back, pretending to pick up my laptop, but really, I was trying to regain my composure.
"Fine," I muttered, voice tight as I clutched my laptop to my racing chest. "Learn boundaries. Got it."
"Good."
His lips twitched, almost imperceptibly, and I wondered if he realized how close he had come to breaking me, not physically, but mentally.