Chapter 2 Two

Alexa's POV

By the time I drag myself home, my legs feel like they've been filled with cement. I shove open the living room door, already picturing myself collapsing on the couch, when I freeze.

Boxes fills my view, coupled with suitcases and our apartment shelves stripped bare.

My mom is standing in the middle of it all, wrestling a box with the help of some guy I've never seen before.

"Mom?" My bag slips from my shoulder, dropping to the floor. "What...what's going on?"

She looks up, smiling like this is the best day of her life. Her cheeks are bright and cheerful, completely out of place in this mess.

"Oh, Alexa! Perfect timing. Go grab your things, we're moving."

"Moving?" The word stumbles out of my mouth, sharp and loud. "Moving where? And why didn't you tell me before I left this morning?" My voice comes out rushed, my pulse racing to keep up.

She waves her hands in the air, shooing my questions away like they're gnats. "Sweetheart, I'll explain once we get there."

"There?" My chest tightens. "Where exactly is there?"

Mom sighs, setting the box down with a heavy thud. She motions me toward the couch, her eyes suddenly serious in a way that makes my stomach twist.

"I should've told you sooner," she admits, voice soft. "The truth is... I'm getting remarried."

The words hit harder than a punch.

"You're what?" My voice cracks. "Since when have you even been seeing someone? And why am I just finding out now?"

Her lips press together, like she's been rehearsing this moment but forgot her lines. "I didn't know how to tell you." She reaches for my hands, but I jerk back before she can touch me.

"Alexa, I know you still haven't moved past your father's death. Trust me, I loved him too."

"If you loved him that much, you wouldn't disrespect his memory like this," I snap, heat burning the back of my eyes.

Her face twists. "What would you have me do, Alexa? It's been nine years. Nine years of being alone. Don't I deserve happiness too?"

Her voice cracks. And that's when I see it, the loneliness, the ache she's been carrying. For the first time, it hits me that maybe I haven't let her move on. Maybe I chained her to my grief along with my own.

My throat burns and I swallow hard.

"Alright. Fine. I get it. I won't stop you from being happy."

Relief washes over her face. She hugs me so tight it knocks the air out of me.

"Thank you, sweetheart. You don't know how much this means."

When she finally lets go, she's already waving at the movers. "Go pack your things. They'll take care of the rest."

I nod, but my feet feel heavy as I head for my room.

The drive takes forever. I don't even realize I've stopped breathing until the car turns onto a long, gated driveway.

The mansion sprawls in front of us, stone walls, shiny cars, gardens trimmed to perfection. It looks like a set piece from a movie, not a place actual humans live.

"This is where he lives?" I whisper, my voice catching. "I didn't even think anyone could afford to buy this property" my mouth stays ajar

Mom beams. "Yes, he moved towns for me. Isn't it beautiful?"

At the front entrance, a man waits. Tall, polished, carrying himself like someone who belongs in a house like this. His smile widens when he sees her, and he pulls her into a hug like they've always been together.

"This is Alexa," Mom says, her eyes glowing.

He turns to me, warm and steady. "Your mother's told me so much. I'm Jackson."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Jackson," I mumble, shaking his hand.

He chuckles. "Please. Just Jackson."

The way he looks at her makes me swallow hard. It's not fake. He really does care.

Inside, the place is insane. Marble floors, chandeliers the size of cars, paintings that probably cost more than our old apartment. Every detail screams money. My skin prickles just standing here.

"I was just telling your mother dinner's ready," Jackson says, gesturing toward a dining hall that looks like a banquet scene waiting for royalty.

The table stretches long, lined with food that smells too good to be real. I sit beside Mom, watching the way she glows when Jackson pulls out her chair.

For a second, I let myself believe maybe this isn't all bad.

Then Jackson looks at the doorway. "Ah, you're here. Join us, son.

"

I freeze, fork halfway to my mouth.

I turn.

Baron.

He strolls in like he owns the place, his hands shoved in his pockets, his face carved into cool disinterest. But when his eyes land on me, his steps falter. Just for a second. Just long enough to feel like lightning hit between us.

"Meet my son, Baron Jackson," Jackson announces proudly. "And soon... your stepbrother."

Stepbrother.

The word slams into me. My pulse trips over itself. My mouth refuses to move.

Baron's gaze locks with mine. Neither of us looks away. Neither of us even breathes.

"Have you two met before?" Jackson asks, curious.

Silence. My chest feels like it might crack open.

Finally, Baron says flatly, "I'm not hungry, Father."

He turns and leaves, footsteps echoing down the hallway before a door slams somewhere in the mansion.

Jackson sighs. "I'm sorry about him. Baron's... difficult. He hasn't accepted me remarrying. I hope you'll understand."

I nod, but my head is spinning. He's not just the stranger who saved me. He's not just the boy who sits next to me in class. He's my soon-to-be stepbrother.

And the way he looked at me just now? That wasn't brotherly.

Mom touches my arm gently. "Don't worry about him, Alexa. Give him time."

I push back my chair. "I should talk to him."

"Alexa-" she starts

"It's fine," I cut her off. "We sit together at school. He'll get it."

I slip out before she can stop me.

The mansion is a maze. I follow instinct, the memory of his footsteps leading me down a too-quiet hallway and then I am shoved.

My back slams into the wall and I gasp.

Baron's face is inches from mine, his eyes burning with something dark and unreadable.

"I'll make this clear," he says, voice low and razor-sharp. "My father marrying your mother doesn't make us family. I will never accept you as my stepsister."

His words cut deep, sharper than I expect. I mean shouldn't care. I shouldn't. But it stings anyway, I'm being rejected before he can even get to know me.

For a second, I don't know if I want to shove him away or demand why he's staring at me like he hates me... and something else.

Then he releases me, stepping back. Without another word, he disappears into a room, slamming the door so hard the floor shakes.

I press a hand to my chest, breath ragged.

Whatever this thing is between us, it's only just beginning.