CHAPTER 3
Willow
Anger sloshed through my veins, seconded by disgust.
A camera?!
There was a CCTV camera in my room.
I spun around searching for more, and they were at every corner of the wall.
My stomach flipped, and my dinner came up to my throat.
I whispered a prayer of thanks at the thought of my early bath.
Thank heavens I didn't step out wearing a towel; thank heavens I changed in the bathroom.
I stared back at the camera.
This was madness!
I knew we were different—we were poor—we didn't understand the ways of the rich, but I sure damn knew that privacy is important.
You can't put a CCTV camera in a room, especially a girl's room.
I rubbed my aching head.
I needed to inform Mum. I trusted her judgment. I wanted her to be happy with her new husband, but who puts a camera in the room?
I dashed out of my room, hurrying back to the dining room.
I had a good photographic memory, and I could locate the dining room.
The hall was pitch black and throbbed with the echoes of silence.
The newfound courage I had zeroed down to half. Still, I wouldn't let a haunting hall and chilly atmosphere stop me. Not now.
With my phone's flashlight in my left hand and my drumming heart in the other, I navigated through the hall and towards the steps, trying and thankfully succeeding in ignoring the little statues that looked more like demons under the pale moonlight which snuck through the transparent glass of the window.
I hurried to the dining room, pushing the door open, and found an empty dining room.
Mom?
Was she in her room?
Just then it hit me: I didn't know her room.
Panic prickled my skin.
I didn't know his room.
I didn't know anywhere except my room and the dining room.
I could look for her. This was important, very important.
Something was off about this house, about everything. It's like we stepped into another world where secrets were the bedrock, dangers the pillars, and fake smiles the air.
It felt strange, creepy, and unsafe.
I shook my head, I was overthinking. I was overstressed.
We were safe. Mother was smart; she wouldn't marry someone dangerous or creepy.
He must have put the camera there before I even arrived and forgot to take them down.
He might have forgotten.
I told myself.
"Anything to keep you sane," The voice in my mind chipped in:
Not now!
I stalked back to the stairs. Just then, the universe decided to remind me how unlucky I was: the flashlight went off.
I froze in my tracks, staring at the low battery sign that blared at the screen of my phone.
No… no… no! I mumbled, trying and failing to switch it on.
My gaze returned back to the empty, dark stairs which felt like they were creatures there waiting to drag me into their bottomless valley of misery.
I pushed the thought away.
It was nothing.
I continued walking, using the rails as my guide. I reached the hall.
For my memory, I had to keep going straight, probably 16 feet.
I didn't bother walking; I quickened my steps until I was running.
Almost there.
A loud scream erupted from my lips as I slammed against a wall—a strong, yet soft, wall and hands pulled me closer.
I pressed into the hard chest and was first welcomed by the sweet scent of vinegar, raw and alluring. My lungs clung greedily to the smell.
The hand that held my waist burned, sending a jolt of heat into my spine. I shuddered, my heart drumming harder against my chest, and then he spoke, knocking off the common sense I thought I had.
I didn't just freeze, I went numb. The hair on the nape of my neck stood up. My ears perked up at the velvet voice that spoke, rough and heavy with authority.
"Who the hell are you?!" He asked, and dropped his gaze at me. Green-amber eyes bored into mine.
Realization dawned on me.
Stepfather?!
No, he was different. The man that held me wasn't Stepfather. Although they had almost the same eyes, this pair of eyes were… warm and strangely hot.
I noticed the black ring that formed in his eyes.
His hand snaked around my neck and pressed harder.
I didn't shout. Weirdly, I was drawn closer, breathless and apparently senseless.
He exerted more pressure; his hot breath grazed my skin. "Will you answer, or should I fuck it out of you?"
I blinked, snapping out of my daze. I drifted from his hold.
Was it me, or did it become colder?
I ignored.
"I… I am sorry."
"That's not the answer to my question." Anger edged his voice.
"I am Willow. I—"
"Weren't you told the rules?!"
Again with the rules.
"Not yet."
He tsked. "That bastard hasn't bored you to death with his numerous rules."
Bastard? As in Stepfather?
"Well, sweetheart." He leaned down to my 5'5". "Let me tell you a few important ones: Firstly, you don't fucking run in the halls, especially at night. Secondly, you don't leave your room once the sun goes down, no matter what happens—even if the house is on fire."
Fear lurched a dagger to my intestine.
"Thirdly, stay away from that bastard!"
"Bastard?" I managed to say. "Who?"
"That's enough for one night." He spoke and turned because I couldn't see his eyes again. "Good night, amore."
"But who... who are you?!"
He turned back and his eyes caught mine. "Your well…"
"Your step-brother." With that, the light turned on, making my eyes hurt before they could adjust. I whined, shutting my eyes, then flipping them open to see Stepfather glaring daggers at the man.
I trailed his gaze to the man to whom I was speaking.
My breath hitched.
He… he wasn't just handsome; he was a demigod. I had seen my own fair share of handsome men—not really—but he topped the list.
Clothed in silver-colored, short-sleeved joggers that showed his muscled arms. His black hair was gelled back with a few strands that fell into his face.
He had a sharp jawline and an even sharper nose that sat directly above his red lips.
He was glorious. With looks like this, he could give the Vogue models a run for their money.
Wait. I paused. Finally processing the word Stepfather said.
He is my step-brother?
My eyes widened.
"What are you doing here?!"
"Skydiving. I heard it was perfect to do indoors," Stepbrother joked.
"I wasn't asking you." He shifted his gaze to me. "What are you doing here, Willow?!"
"The last time I checked, she wasn't your slave. She wouldn't need your permission."
"I didn't ask you." His jaw visibly clenched. "I thought you weren't coming back today."
"I had a change of heart." Sarcasm dripped from his words and stained the air. "Have a problem?"
"Yes. I won't tolerate you sneaking up on her."
"I wasn't sneaking up on her, old man." He retorted. "We simply bumped into each other, and I couldn't leave without saying hi to yet another new sister."
"Behave."
"Relax, you might look young, but you are not. You are one high blood pressure away from your death."
"Asher!"
"Relax, old man. I won't want you dropping dead a day after your wedding." He hissed. "It will go against your rules."
Tension hung heavy in the air, snatching the little oxygen I grasped.
They directed their gaze to me, then back to themselves.
Right there and then, I knew I had walked into a crossfire, a war, and something in my gut told me I was the prize.
I'm doomed.