Aurora's POV

By the time Albert reluctantly retreated to his room, dusk had already begun to settle in. Mom still hadn't returned. Neither had Dad.

A reckless part of me wished they wouldn't, not yet. If they stayed away just a little longer, Albert and I would have all the stolen time in the world. Time that felt dangerously precious.

I lay back on my bed soon after he left, staring up at the ceiling while the ghost of his touch lingered on my skin, warm and impossible to ignore.

The way he had whispered my name, low and heated, like a secret he wasn't supposed to know. The way he'd held me, as if I belonged to him, as if forever was something he could claim with just a look. The trail of his kisses still burned in my memory, etched into every place his lips had touched.

And God... I wished it hadn't ended.

I wished I wouldn't have to return to L.A. and pretend none of this had ever happened, pretend that my heart hadn't been shaken to its core.

I pushed myself off the bed, suddenly aware of the faint sheen of sweat on my skin. The last thing I needed was for Mom to notice anything unusual when she got back. I headed to the bathroom and took a quick shower, letting the warm water wash away the lingering heat, and none of the memories.

Afterward, I rubbed lotion into my skin, slipped into fresh clothes, a tank top and shorts, and made

my way downstairs.

And that's when I saw her.

Mom was back.

"Hi, Mom," I said casually, walking to the sink to rinse a glass before filling it with water, hoping the normalcy of the gesture would steady me.

She turned toward me, one brow arching slightly.

My stomach tightened.

For the first time, a terrifying thought crossed my mind, what if she knew? What if she'd seen through me?

"What's with the look?" I asked, but I couldn't hold her gaze. I felt exposed, like a specimen under a microscope, every secret laid bare under her scrutiny.

"You should wear a bra, Aurora," Mom said as she unpacked the groceries from a paper bag. "There are men in this house."

I rolled my eyes. "Except for your husband... and I'm pretty sure Albert doesn't care."

Almost on cue, heavy footsteps thudded against the stairs as someone descended.

"Right, stepbrother?"

"Not at all," Albert replied.

He appeared in the kitchen doorway, freshly changed, a hoodie and jeans replacing what he'd worn earlier. He looked perfectly composed, too composed, and yet my mind betrayed me, replaying memories I had no business thinking

about.

"Whatever," Mom muttered, shaking her head before turning back to the counter.

I caught Albert's eye and allowed myself a brief, knowing smile before reaching up to grab a can of fries from the cupboard, suddenly very aware of the charged air between us.

Then the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," I said quickly, grateful for the excuse to step away.

When I opened the door, a young, beautiful woman with dark hair stood on the porch. She looked like she was in her early twenties, and the moment her eyes landed on me, a bright smile curved her lips.

"Hi, I'm Lucy." She extended her hand for a handshake.

"Hi," I replied politely, taking it. "How may I help you?"

"I'm here for Albert," she said easily. "I'm his girlfriend."

The word girlfriend rang in my ears like a shrill alarm.

I pulled my hand back as if her touch had burned me.

Albert had a fucking girlfriend.

"Lucy?" Albert's voice came from behind me, laced with surprise. "What are-"

"Hi, Albert. Missed me?" she cut in brightly.

She brushed past me, deliberately knocking her shoulder against mine, and went straight into his arms. Before I could even process it, she rose on her toes and kissed him.

She fucking kissed him.

Those lips, the same lips that had been on me just

hours ago.

My chest tightened as the reality settled in, sharp and merciless.

"Who's she?" Lucy asked, her smile faltering as her gaze slid to me. Her hands were still splayed across Albert's chest, possessive and intimate.

"She's Aurora," Albert said. He hesitated, then forced the words out. "My... step-sister."

Her eyes flicked back to him. "You didn't tell me you were coming."

"I didn't know you were," he replied, attempting a smile, though his eyes kept betraying him, darting toward me again and again.

"I didn't need to," she said lightly, her tone suddenly grating. "I'm your girlfriend."

"Lucy, I didn't invite you-"

His voice dissolved into a distant murmur, like I'd slipped underwater. I straightened my shoulders, clinging to my pride, and turned away. Without another word, I carried myself up the staircase, each step heavier than the last.

I told myself I wasn't jealous as I walked back to my room.

Thank God Mom didn't notice the change in my expression.

"Okay. Breathe," I murmured once the door closed behind me. I paced the floor, inhaling deeply, then exhaling. "This is childish. He's your stepbrother. He's allowed to have a girlfriend."

The words sounded reasonable. Sensible.

But none of them felt true.

A sharp knock sounded at my door, and before I could even tell him to come in, he pushed it open.

"What do you want?" I asked coldly, folding my arms across my chest.

"Aurora, calm down." He reached for my hand, but I stepped back.

"Don't tell me to," I snapped, struggling to keep my voice from rising.

He dragged a frustrated hand through his hair, clearly searching for the right words.

"Look-"

"Don't," I cut in, my voice tight. "Don't explain anything to me." I swallowed hard. "Albert, we just had sex. And you're gonna fuck her with the same cock?"

"Christ, Aurora, watch your language..."

"Don't," I warned, lifting a finger to silence him. "You couldn't even wait until I went back to L.A. You just had to bring your perfect girlfriend into this house."

A bitter laugh slipped out. "How considerate of you, stepbrother. I should've known better. I should've known exactly what kind of person you are."

I brushed past him before he could say another word, leaving him standing there with no chance to explain himself.

I sat on Mom's car, scrolling mindlessly through my phone, trying to forget everything that had just unraveled inside the house. I'd completely lost my appetite for the sprinkles, so they lay untouched beside me.

I slipped on my headphones and turned the volume all the way up, desperate to drown out Albert's voice before it could creep back into my thoughts.

Not long after, Mom texted to say dinner was ready.

At the table, she casually announced that Dad wouldn't be coming home tonight. She chatted easily with Albert and Lucy, laughing like nothing was wrong, while I rushed through my food, eager to escape back upstairs.

I didn't say a word throughout the meal. I felt strangely mute, like I'd lost the ability to participate in conversation. When I was done, I stood up, dropped my dishes in the sink, and left.

Thankfully, Mom didn't stop me or ask questions. I knew she was saving those for later.

Back in my room, I stepped out onto the balcony and sank into the chair, staring up at the night sky where stars shimmered quietly above me.

Albert wouldn't leave my mind, how he had made me feel, and how hollow I felt now.

"Behave like the adult you are," I whispered to myself. "He's your stepbrother. You knew better. And still, you let it happen."

Then I heard laughter.

Lucy's laughter.

I stood and peered down. Thank God the balcony lights were off, they wouldn't see me.

She laughed at something Albert said, leaning closer to him.

Perfect little couple.

My chest tightened painfully.

I was about to turn back inside when I heard Albert speak.

"You should get going, Lucy. It's late."

"I want to spend the night," she said, wrapping her arms around him. "Haven't you missed me?"

He gently pulled her hands away.

"Stop, Lucy. We're not getting back together," he said firmly. "The fact that I'm even speaking to you after you cheated on me with my best friend is more than fair."

I froze, leaning forward to listen.

"It was an accident," she pleaded. "I miss you, Albert." She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, but he pushed her back, carefully, though she nearly lost her balance.

"Go home, Lucy," he said coldly. "Goodnight. Thanks for joining us for dinner."

He turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, seething.

A slow smile spread across my lips.

So I had been wrong. I had misunderstood everything.

I stayed where I was, waiting, hoping. When I finally heard a door click softly hours later, a smirk curved my mouth.

"Aurora-"

Before he could say anything else, I stepped forward and silenced him with a kiss.

His hands settled at my waist, steady and familiar, as he kissed me back.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine.

"You should go before my mom wakes up-"

"Shh." His fingers brushed lightly over my lips.

"She's asleep."

The night wrapped around us again, quiet and dangerous and full of things neither of us were ready to admit.

Roxanne POV

Winfred Ashcroft left that morning for his usual dawn jog after giving me orders on what to make for breakfast.

I stood in the kitchen, my fingers trembling as I reached for the chef's knife to slice some cabbage but I wasn't even concentrating.

I shouldn't be thinking about him.

But it was definitely impossible not to.

Focus. Just make his breakfast and stay invisible like always. I told myself, gripping the knife harder as I chopped on the cabbage.

That was the unspoken rule of working for Winfred Ashcroft. Be present but unseen. Efficient but silent. I had mastered it over the past five months, moving through his spaces like a ghost, preparing meals he barely acknowledged, existing in the periphery of his cold, controlled world.

Dawn was breaking over the city skyline, painting the clouds in shades of rose and amber, but I barely noticed. My mind was elsewhere, wandering down a path it had no business travelling.

He had never looked at me. His steel grey eyes would pass over me as if I were part of a piece of furniture. Even furniture got more attention than I did. And I told myself that was fine and better.

But God, I had started to notice him.

Ever since I walked into his room when he was wearing only condom boxers. The flawless colour of his skin, the way his muscles stood, the way his abs were toned, the way the underwear had outlined his cock, it made my stomach churn with desire.

I dropped the knife and it clattered against the cutting board as my hands went still. My pulse quickened, heat blooming low in my belly despite the cool air.

No. Not now. I tried to talk myself out of thinking about him, but I couldn't.

I closed my eyes, just for a moment. Just to breathe.

But the moment my eyelids fluttered shut, he was there in my mind as if he was standing before me. I could see the sharp line of his jaw, perpetually set in that expression of barely contained irritation with the world.

The way his dark hair fell across his forehead when it wasn't slicked back with that severe perfection he preferred.

He left that morning, wearing nothing but athletic pants and a compression shirt that clung to every defined muscle of his torso. I could still remember the way he looked sexy.

God. How long was I going to keep up with resisting him? He was way too hot to ignore.

My breathing grew shallow as the fantasy took hold, unbidden and unwelcome but impossible to stop.

In my mind, he wasn't my hostile boss. His green eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that made my knees weak, and those elegant long fingered hands of his were between my legs, smearing my wetness on my folds.

The kitchen suddenly felt too warm and I couldn't hold it any longer. I needed to do something to satisfy my urge.

My free hand drifted down my apron, my fingers finding the hem. I knew that this was beyond appropriate, standing in his kitchen, thinking these thoughts. But the house was empty except for me and the ache between my thighs had become impossible to ignore

"Just for a moment. He won't know." I whispered to myself and shut my eyes as my hand slipped beneath my skirt.

My back pressed against the cold marble counters as my fingers found their destination. A soft gasp escaped my lips and my head fell back as pleasure sparked through the nerve endings.

I slid my middle finger in and found my already wet clit.

"Fuck." I closed my eyes as I slid two fingers in.

Yes. It felt so good.

I widened my leg as I increased my pace, biting my lower lip.

"Winnie," that was the pet name I gave him in my mind. The name I'd use if we ever dared make out.

"Ahh...yes...fuck." I cried as I pushed my finger deeper and out.

I imagined him whispering my name, he probably didn't even know my name, but in this fantasy, he did. He said it like a prayer and curse combined. I pictured him backing me against this very counter, holding me tightly as his fingers worked on my pussy.

"Yessss. Faster." I whimpered as the fantasy grew more vivid, his mouth on my neck, his hands gripping my hips and that deep voice I had only ever heard give curt commands now murmuring dark promises against my skin.

I was so close, lost in the fictional version of him that existed only in my most secret thoughts when my eyes opened slightly and I saw him standing before me, leaning on the doorway with his hands folded across his chest.

My eyes widened as I stared at him.

Shit.

When did he return?

The room suddenly felt too small, the air thick and heavy in my lungs. I shut my eyes, my heartbeat thundering in my ears as I prayed it was only my imagination, some cruel trick of my longing for him, and that when I opened them again, he'd be gone.

But when I did, he was still there.

Still watching me.

His gaze burned against my skin, sending a chill down my spine. The familiar coldness in his expression was gone, replaced by something unreadable, something that made my breath hitch. It was unfamiliar, unsettling... and for the first time, I wasn't sure whether to be afraid or drawn closer