Lila Sinclair's POV

I turned a little to the left, then back to the right, staring at my reflection in the floor-length mirror. My long dark hair tumbled down my shoulders, still damp from my quick shower, while the white sundress clung to my curves in a way I wasn't sure was too much. I pouted at my reflection, then lifted my phone closer to my face where JoJo's grin filled the screen.

"What do you think?" I asked, stepping back so he could see the full fit. "Cute or trying too hard?"

JoJo squinted exaggeratedly, making me laugh.

"Hmm... cute, yeah, but you're definitely trying too hard. You look like you're about to attend your own engagement brunch."

I gasped dramatically. "Rude! This is my first full day in this mansion, Jo. I can't look homeless."

He smirked. "You'd look hot in a potato sack and you know it. But seriously, babe, maybe go with the denim shorts and that little top I like. You don't wanna look like you're waiting for daddy to introduce you to a billionaire husband."

I rolled my eyes but smiled anyway, tugging at the hem of my sundress. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to live here for the next year. I need to make an impression. A good one."

JoJo tilted his head, his tone softening. "Lila, you'll make an impression just by breathing. These people are not ready for you."

That made me laugh, and I spun slowly, still checking myself out. The mansion was quiet, too quiet, and my nerves were buzzing.

"So shorts?" I asked, pausing mid-spin.

"Yes. With that black crop top. Show a little skin. Remind them you're not just some scared little girl they dragged in here."

I was about to reply when a sharp sound cut through the silence, the unmistakable shatter of glass. My head snapped toward the hallway.

"What the hell was that?" I whispered.

JoJo frowned. "Maybe the maid dropped something?"

I shook my head quickly. "No. Clara told me all the staff left for their summer vacation this morning. It's just me here. Well, and..." My stomach tightened. "...them."

JoJo raised a brow. "Lila..."

"Shh." I pressed a finger to my lips instinctively, tiptoeing to the door. My phone wobbled in my hand as I whispered, "I swear I heard something. I'm checking."

He groaned. "Or maybe don't go toward the creepy sound like every dumb girl in a horror movie?"

I ignored him and walked down the next room where the sound came from, It was Ethan's room. I paused. "Uh, Jo, do you think I should...uh...go in?"

"Hey, don't ask me that dumb ass question, I heard nothing." JoJo voiced out his face popping out.

I pushed the door open, stepping into the dim hallway. "See?" I whispered into the phone. "Nobody's here."

And then..

The bathroom door across the hall swung open.

Steam rolled out, followed by a tall figure with a towel slung dangerously low on his hips. My heart stuttered in my chest. He was wet, water dripping from tousled brown hair onto a chest that looked sculpted from sin itself. Muscles carved and lean, abs glistening with droplets that slid down and disappeared beneath that thin white towel.

I froze.

He froze.

And then those honey-brown eyes lifted, locking right onto mine.

"Who's that?" he asked smoothly, nodding toward the phone in my hand.

My throat went dry. Without thinking, I stabbed the screen and ended the FaceTime call with JoJo, cutting him off before he could say a word. The silence that followed was deafening.

Now it was just me and... him.

He arched a brow, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "Well, you're definitely not a maid. So..." He took a step closer, voice teasing. "...are you the new wife-to-be my father brought home for Damien?"

Heat flared in my cheeks. "Excuse me?"

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. "Relax, princess. I'm kidding. Kind of." He leaned against the doorframe, unbothered that his towel barely covered him. "So what's your name?"

I swallowed, forcing my voice steady. "Lila. I'm... I'm your father's adopted daughter. he told you right?"

His smile widened, flashing perfect teeth. "Adopted daughter. Mmm... I don't recall him ever saying such but I think that explains why I've never seen you before. Ethan Blackwood." He gave a small bow of his head, his damp hair falling into his eyes in the sexiest way. "Second son. The hottest and sexiest, depending on who you ask."

Despite myself, I laughed. "And what does that mean?"

"It means I'm not Damien." He winked. "Trust me, you'll get it when you meet him."

The way he said Damien's name made me curious and nervous all at once. I shifted my weight, trying not to stare too hard at the water sliding down Ethan's chest. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry about the glass." He lifted his hand, revealing the remains of a broken tumbler still on the counter behind him. "Slipped when I grabbed it. My bad. Didn't mean to freak you out."

Something about the ease in his tone, the way he carried himself half-naked like it was nothing, made me relax without realizing it.

"So," he said, tilting his head, eyes scanning me from head to toe in a way that made my skin burn. "First day, huh? Should I call you Lila...no Lil baby or Sis?"

I chuckled. "I think I would go with Lil baby, God forbid a girl loves Lil tjay."

I shrugged as he gave me a kick. "The way you kiss me while I'm stroking deep insida ya, I swear you ride me so good."

"That pussy blew me away, I've been thinking about your smile." I kept on singing along as we both snapped our fingers.

"No no no...I'm fucking bare down here, don't get me on." We both laughed out loud and for some reasons, talking to him felt safe. He was so free and jovial.

"So, tell me. How's mansion life treating you?"

I let out a nervous laugh. "Intimidating."

"Don't be intimidated. You'll get used to it. This place can feel... cold sometimes." His gaze softened, and suddenly he looked less like a cocky stranger and more like someone genuinely trying to make me comfortable. "But you've got me now."

"Got you?" I raised a brow, unable to help the smile tugging at my lips.

"Yeah. Tour guide. Partner-in-crime. Confidant. Whatever you need." He shrugged, casual and charming. "Trust me, Lila. You're gonna want someone on your side in this house."

I opened my mouth to reply, but the heavy sound of footsteps cut me off. We both turned as Mr. Harrington entered the hallway, his smile warm and fatherly as his eyes landed on me.

"There you are," he said kindly, gesturing for me to come closer. "Ethan, I see you've already met Lila."

"Met?" Ethan smirked, glancing at me. "We've practically bonded."

My cheeks flamed as Mr. Harrington chuckled. "Well, Lila, this is my son Ethan. And Ethan, this is Lila.... the daughter I told you and Damien about."

Ethan looked at me again, eyes glinting. "Daughter, huh? Guess I'll have to behave then."

Mr. Harrington gave him a knowing look but kept smiling. "She's family now, Ethan. Make her feel at home."

Ethan pressed a hand over his chest, mock serious. "Don't worry, Dad. I've got this covered." Then, lower, just for me, "Welcome to the mansion, princess."

"Thank youuuu..." I blushed, as we laughed out.

And in that moment, I couldn't tell if I felt more relieved... or in danger.

Ethan Blackwood's POV

"Can you let me spend at least one damn day at home before blowing up my phone?" I groaned, holding the phone to my ear as I sprawled across my bed, one hand tugging lazily at my damp hair.

On the other end, Jared's laugh was smug. "Bro, stop pretending like you don't miss me. You're literally sitting in that mansion bored out of your mind."

"Correction," I smirked, "I was sitting bored out of my mind. Now I've got a new housemate. Way more entertaining than your ugly face popping up on FaceTime."

"Ahhh, the infamous adopted sister your dad was talking about." Jared dragged the words. "So what's she like? Cute? Boring? Trouble?"

I chuckled low. "Definitely not boring. Trouble? Maybe. Cute?" My lips tilted as the image of Lila in that silk robe from earlier flickered through my mind. The way she bit her lip nervously, the way her laugh had slipped out like it didn't belong to a stranger... "Yeah, she's cute."

"Don't 'yeah' me, Ethan. Cute how? Like..you'd ruin your life'cute, or just pat on the head' cute?"

"Shut up." I threw a pillow across the room even though he couldn't see it. "She's off-limits."

"Mmhm. That didn't sound convincing." Jared whistled. "Anyway, stop dodging me. Tonight. You're coming."

"Not happening." I leaned back, arms behind my head. "I'm not in the mood for your wild parties, man."

"It's not my party," Jared corrected. "It's Stephanie's birthday."

I stilled. "Stephanie?"

"Yeah." He chuckled knowingly. "Your ex. Ring a bell?"

I rolled my eyes. "That's exactly why I'm not going. Why the hell would I put myself in the same room as her and her perfect little circle of designer demons?"

"Because, my guy," Jared's tone dropped, "you need to show her you've moved on. She's already parading that new boyfriend of hers like some trophy. You think she won't rub it in your face if you skip tonight?"

I clenched my jaw, thinking of Stephanie's smug smirk. Jared wasn't wrong. The last thing I wanted was for her to think she'd broken me.

"Fine," I exhaled, dragging my hand over my face. "I'll go. But I swear if I regret this..."

"You won't," Jared cut in, victorious. "Just bring that charm of yours and..hell, bring your new sister. That'll shut Stephanie right up."

I rose up. "Hmm,, that's a blast idea you got there."

"I'm the highest in the room." he shrugged.

"Shut up," I said again, but this time I was grinning. "I'll figure something out."

By the time I hung up, my mind was already spinning with possibilities.

***

I found myself standing outside Lila's room, knocking twice before pushing the door slightly open.

She peeked out, wide eyed, her hair falling in loose waves around her face. "Ethan?"

"Don't look so surprised," I teased, stepping inside like I owned the place. My eyes swept over her room. "Wow. Dad really went all out, huh? Looks like a damn hotel suite."

Lila rolled her eyes but smiled. "Yeah, it's... something."

I flopped onto the armchair like I belonged there. "So. Big plans tonight?"

She shook her head. "Just figuring out how not to get lost in this giant house."

"Perfect." I leaned forward, grinning. "Then you're coming with me."

Her brows knitted. "Coming where?"

"To a party." I spread my arms like it was obvious. "My ex's birthday party, actually."

Her jaw dropped. "Wait...your ex? And you want me to come?"

I smirked. "Exactly. I need her to see me with someone else. Someone gorgeous. Someone who'll make her choke on her champagne when she realizes she lost me."

Lila laughed, that soft, melodic laugh that made something tug in my chest. "And you think I'm the person for that job?"

"You're perfect for it." I winked. "Besides, it's not about you. It's about me winning."

She folded her arms, biting her lip like she was thinking. "Okay... but, uh, I have no idea what to wear. Or how to even act at some fancy party like that."

"Lucky for you," I stood up dramatically, "I'm a goddamn fashionista."

"Oh, really?" she teased. "I thought you were just a rich boy with good cheekbones."

"Both can be true," I grinned. "Now, stand up. We're raiding your closet."

I opened the wardrobe and whistled. "Damn. Dad really does spoil you already." My hands skimmed over silks, velvets, lace. "But we need something that screams eat your heart out, Stephanie."

Lila hovered by the bed nervously. "I don't even know what that means."

"It means," I said, pulling out a sleek black dress that looked like it was made for sin, "this one."

Her eyes widened. "That's... kind of short."

"Exactly." I tossed it at her. "Trust me."

She disappeared into the bathroom, and I leaned against the doorframe, smirking to myself.

When she stepped out, I swear my breath stalled. The dress hugged every curve, the fabric slipping against her skin like it had been sewn on her body.

I blinked, then forced a grin. "Okay, wow. Remind me never to underestimate you again."

Her cheeks flushed. "Stop staring."

"Not possible." I circled her, tugging lightly at the strap to adjust it. "Needs a little fixing." My fingers brushed her bare shoulder, lingering longer than necessary. Her skin was warm, soft.

I moved to her hair next. "Let it down."

She shook it free, and I ran my fingers through it, tousling it slightly. "There. Now you look like you didn't even try, which is the whole point. Sexy, effortless, lethal."

Lila laughed nervously, twisting to look at the mirror. "I look... different."

"You look perfect," I said before I could stop myself.

Our eyes met in the mirror, and for a second, the air shifted. My chest tightened, my pulse kicking up.

She smiled shyly, breaking the moment. "You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculously good at this," I corrected quickly, pulling back with a grin. "Now, twirl for me."

She did, laughing as the hem flared around her thighs. I let my gaze trail over her once more, unapologetic.

"Damn, Stephanie's not ready," I murmured, shaking my head.

When she stopped, I pulled her into a playful hug. She fit against me softer than I expected, her laugh muffled against my chest. My hand lingered at her waist a beat too long before I let go.

"See?" I said lightly, covering the tension building in my gut. "We make a great team."

Lila Sinclair's POV

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing the girl in front of me. The soft curls Ethan had fixed in my hair bounced over my shoulders, my dress hugged my body in all the right places, and the light makeup made me look like I belonged to this mansion, like I'd always been this polished.

Ethan leaned against the doorframe with that smug grin of his.

"Damn, Lila. If Damien doesn't thank my father for adopting you, I will."

I rolled my eyes, but heat rushed to my cheeks. "Stop flattering me."

"I'm not flattering," he said, stepping closer, his eyes scanning me slowly, deliberately. "I'm stating facts. Tonight, you're about to make one woman very jealous."

I raised my brow. "Stephanie?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Smart girl. You'll catch on quick."

I sighed. "So let me get this straight. You're dragging me to your ex's birthday party to... what? Parade me like some trophy?"

"Exactly." He smirked wider, his tone playful but sharp underneath. "Steph's the type who hates losing. She dumped me thinking she'd crawl back whenever she pleased. Tonight, you're going to help me prove she lost me for good."

I folded my arms. "And what do I get in return for being your little prop?"

"Fun," he said immediately, leaning in with a mischievous wink. "And maybe... a tiny crash course in surviving rich-people drama. Trust me, you'll need it."

I laughed despite myself. His energy was infectious...flirty, cocky, but so damn easy to be around.

***

The ride to the party felt like something out of a movie. The sleek black car, the city lights reflecting off tinted windows, Ethan in a perfectly tailored suit beside me. He was humming along to some playlist, relaxed, while I kept fiddling with my fingers.

"You nervous?" he asked, catching me.

"Of course I am," I muttered. "This is my first time walking into some glamorous party as... well, anything."

He reached over, brushing his fingers over mine in a casual but reassuring way. "Relax, Lil babyyy. All you gotta do is stand beside me, smile when I tell you to, laugh at my terrible jokes. Easy."

I smirked. "Your jokes are terrible already. That won't be acting."

"Exactly. You're perfect for this role." he smiled warmly and brushed my hair softly off my shoulders.

The mansion where the party was hosted was dripping in luxury, crystal chandeliers, waiters with champagne, the faint hum of a live band playing something jazzy in the background. And the people... God, everyone looked like they had been carved straight out of fashion magazines.

I froze for a second at the entrance, but Ethan pressed a hand to the small of my back.

"Breathe," he whispered, warm against my ear. "And remember, they wish they looked as good as you."

We entered, and heads turned. I swore I heard someone whisper, "Who's she?" The power of appearances was insane.

Then I saw her.

Stephanie.

She was tall, striking, with flawless red lips and a dress that clung to her like second skin. And the look on her face when her eyes landed on me and Ethan? pure venom dressed in a smile.

"Well, well," she purred as she walked over, champagne glass in hand. "Ethan. You finally learned how to accessorize."

I stiffened, but Ethan slipped his arm around my waist smoothly.

"Stephanie," he said warmly, almost mocking. "Meet Lila. My girl."

Her brows arched, lips twitching. "Your... girl?"

I forced myself to meet her gaze, faking confidence I didn't feel. "Hi."

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Cute." She turned back to Ethan, her voice sugar-coated poison. "Didn't think you'd move on so fast."

"Didn't think you'd care," he shot back easily, then kissed my temple for good measure. My stomach flipped, though I reminded myself this was all for show.

Stephanie's laugh was sharp. "Enjoy the party, Ethan. Don't choke on your rebound." And with that, she sauntered off, hips swaying like she owned the floor.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "She hates me."

"She hates losing," Ethan corrected, grinning. "And thanks to you, she's losing big time tonight."

I couldn't help but laugh. The rest of the evening blurred into music, laughter, and Ethan keeping me close, introducing me to his friends, making me laugh so much my cheeks hurt. For a moment, I forgot I was the outsider.

But somewhere between the toasts and the endless glasses of champagne, Ethan started to slip. His jokes got louder, his arm heavier around me. His laughter, looser.

By midnight, he was leaning against the bar, glass in hand, eyes half-lidded. "Lil babyy... you're the best fake girlfriend ever."

I frowned. "You're drunk."

"And you're... so pretty," he slurred with a lazy grin.

I sighed. "Great. Just great."

"Catch ya later, imma go hook up with some ass." he rose as he walked off

"Great! Time up, Lila." I muttered, and suddenly I felt out of place again. Alone, despite the crowd. Ethan was lost in his drunken haze, his friends laughing around him. Nobody noticed me slip away.

***

The night air was sharp as I walked down the driveway, heels clicking on pavement. I tried to call an Uber, but the app kept glitching. Figures.

Frustration bubbled in my chest. My first night out in this world, and of course, I end up stranded. I started walking, hugging myself, when headlights flashed across me. A car screeched to a halt inches away.

I gasped, stumbling back. My heart pounded as the tinted window lowered slightly.

"What the hell?!" I yelled, anger and nerves spilling out. "Do you not know how to drive? You almost killed me, you idiot!"

No answer. Just silence. My hands trembled as I stepped closer, glaring.

"Whoever you are, you need to open your damn eyes instead of speeding like a maniac..." I cursed.

Yes. This was me, whenever I get frustrated and confused.

"Move away!" I barked.

Then my gaze fell on the license plate.

My breath caught.

I knew that number. I knew the name written on the top of the plate.

My lips parted in shock, the words dying in my throat.

The car's engine revved, and before I could say anything else, it sped off into the night, leaving me standing frozen in the middle of the street.

Damien Blackwood.

It had been Damien.

The realization hit me like ice water, and my knees almost buckled. He'd seen me. Heard me. And the way I had screamed at him...God.

If looks could kill, I was sure I had just signed my death sentence.