Aria's pov
The car pulled up in the driveway, I sat there awkwardly as the chauffeur came out back to remove our luggages from the boot of the car.
Money, that was the first thing that came to my mind on taking in the surroundings. The rich scent of old money.
"Come out Aria, Rick is waiting for us."
Rick Cross, my new step father in a sense. I was at boot camp when my mother had informed me that she had just gotten married. That came as a surprise considering I hadn't even known that her causal relationship was that serious to lead to marriage.
And more so, not to Rick Cross. The literal CEO of Cross conglomerates and the Estebi's factions. But still....I didn't really have a say.
Not when she said he was relocating us from our small town in the suburbs, not when she said I would be changing high schools.
A figure waited at the bottom of the grand staircase, he was putting on golf wear, his face one that I had seen so many times in the magazines. Mr Rick.
"Babe!" my mother, Vera, squealed so loudly I had to cover one ear. Even the chauffeur flinched.
Rick Cross opened his arms, a wide, manicured smile plastered on his face. "There's my queen," he said, scooping her into a hug like the cameras were already flashing. They kissed....loudly. I looked away.
We weren't even inside yet and I already felt like a misplaced piece of furniture.
"Aria," he said, turning to me with that politician smile. "Welcome home."
I gave a polite nod. "Thanks."
He offered a handshake, firm and dry, like a business deal. Up close, he looked the same as he did in Forbes: polished, clean-shaven, not a strand of silver hair out of place. The only thing that didn't show up in magazines was the cool detachment in his eyes.
"My son is upstairs. He'll show you around once you've settled in," he added.
His son?
Right. The infamous Jaxon Cross. Also in the magazines.
Rick didn't wait for a response. He led my mother inside, their laughter echoing through the marble foyer before I could even step over the threshold.
The house was.....ridiculous. A chandelier bigger than my old bedroom hung over the entrance. Marble floors, gold-trimmed vases, and paintings that probably cost more than my tuition lined the hallway.
The chauffeur brought in my suitcase and set it quietly by the stairs. I mumbled a quick thanks before dragging it up myself.
Third door on the right, that's what Rick had said. My new room.
I opened the door and stepped into a suite. Not a bedroom. A suite. Full bed, walk-in closet, floor-length windows. It felt like I had walked into a five-star hotel.
Still, none of it felt like mine.
I sat on the bed, running my fingers over the velvet comforter.
A knock echoed on the door.
"Yeah?" I called, standing.
The door opened halfway. A guy leaned on the frame, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
He was tall, had ash-brown hair, messy and effortlessly perfect, and those stormy blue eyes I recognized from the life sized advertisements, eyes that made half the female population go stupid.
Jaxon Cross.
"I'm guessing you're the boot camp kid," he said.
I crossed my arms. "And you're the stepbrother with a fan club?"
He chuckled, stepping inside without asking. His gaze swept over me like a scanner. "Didn't expect you to look like this."
"Like what?"
His eyes flicked down and up, slow. "Like...zero colours unlike Miss Vera who is very shiny."
I rolled my eyes and walked past him toward the door. "Relax. I plan to stay out of your way."
"Too late," he murmured, low enough that I almost missed it. But I felt the heat of his stare linger on my back as I left the room.
"What do you mean?"
He chuckled,
"I get you have the loner vibe and shit, but we'll be living and co-existing in the same space. We are bound to often run into each other."
I scoffed internally, evading people was a hidden skill and for the past eighteen years of my life. I was so good at it.
I leaned slightly against the doorframe, arms still crossed. "You do realize this house is basically a small nation, right? There are like twenty rooms. I could go a month without breathing the same air as you."
Jaxon shrugged. "True. But the universe has a sick sense of humor."
I didn't reply. I didn't plan to keep chatting.
But then he asked, "Have we met before?"
That stopped me.
I blinked. "Why would we have met before?"
He tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. "Dunno. You just give off this weird déjà vu energy. Like someone who can see through too much."
I didn't say anything. He wasn't wrong. But he wasn't getting answers either.
"So why the attitude?" he asked casually, taking a step closer.
I stepped away. "No attitude."
"Hmm." He raised a brow. "You just don't like me."
"Correct."
"Why?"
I looked him straight in the eye. "Because you scream player, and I don't do players."
That made him laugh. Not a mocking laugh, an amused one. Like I had just confirmed something for him.
"Ex trouble?" he guessed.
I didn't answer.
"You dated a guy who played you?" he asked, smirk fading slightly.
Still, I only shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Just means I have a good radar now."
Jaxon let out a long breath and picked up a hard-boiled egg from the small dish on the hallway console table. He squeezed it once in his palm until it cracked. "Well, I don't really care what you think of me, step-sis."
"Glad we're on the same page."
"But," he continued, peeling the egg slowly, "you might want to chill. Try socializing. Familiarize yourself. Not everyone is out to hurt you."
I rolled my eyes. "And that comes from a guy who is allergic to commitment?"
"We just met, maybe stuff your theories about me in your pocket for now,"
I scoffed, murmuring under my breath.
"Bullock,"
He leaned closer, lips curled into a lazy smirk. "You'll get used to it."
My eyes widened, I didn't expect him to hear me.
Just then, my mother's voice echoed through the hall.
"Aria! Come down here for a second!"
Saved by the bell.
I turned fast. "Coming!"
Before I could make it to the stairs, I paused. "By the way," I added, "I was going to ask her about schools. Just letting her know I'd prefer to attend one very far away from yours."
Jaxon's grin widened like I'd just played into his hands. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
~Downstairs
My mother looked like she was ready to walk a red carpet, sitting beside Rick in the living room, sipping wine. She turned to me with a bright smile.
"Oh, sweetheart, Rick and I already arranged your transfer. You'll be starting school next week."
I nodded slowly. "Cool. Which one?"
She gave a soft chuckle, like the news was nothing at all. "The same as Jaxon's. Isn't that convenient?"
My stomach dropped.
Jaxon, who had just sauntered down the staircase behind me, let out a low whistle. "Guess we will be breathing the same air, after all."