EMERY

I didn't answer him. I just stood in the center of the kitchen, chewing the bitter skin of the apple, glaring at him until my jaw hurt.

"What?" Atlas asked, taking a long swig from his water bottle. His dark gray eyes tracked my face with flat indifference. "You look like you're trying to set me on fire with your mind."

"You're a real jerk, Vance," I said, my voice steady despite the prickle of tears threatening my eyes from the day's total defeat. "I don't need your condescending charity."

Atlas scoffed, setting his bottle down on the counter with a dull click. "Charity? Vale, it's a dollar-fifty apple I bought so I wouldn't have to listen to your stomach growl while I'm trying to sleep. Don't flatter yourself."

"I didn't ask for it!" I threw the rest of the apple straight into the small trash can under the sink. "Keep your food, keep your comments, and keep out of my way."

"Gladly," he muttered, picking up his heavy hockey bag. "Just remember to pay your half of the electric bill on the first. I'm not covering anything, Carter's broke ex."

He turned on and disappeared down the walkway, slamming his bedroom door shut so hard that the small framed mirror on the hallway wall rattled.

I leaned back against the edge of the counter, shutting my eyes tightly. My chest felt hollow. I was entirely alone, broke, about to be kicked out of university, and sharing twenty square feet of floor space with a guy who made my blood boil every time he breathed.

My phone vibrated violently against the wood table.

I reached out, half-expecting a frantic text from Mason or a cold notification from the university registrar.

Instead, the screen illuminated with the word: DAD.

I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to sound cheerful before pressing the green button. "Hi, Dad."

"Emery, sweetheart!" My father's loud, booming voice filled my ear. He sounded happier than he had in years a quiet, exhausted tone he usually carried back home in New York. "Are you settled into your new place at Linchester?"

"Yeah," I lied, staring at the peeling wallpaper above the sink. "It's... fine. Really quiet."

"Wonderful! Listen, Emmy, I'm calling because I have unbelievable news. The kind of news that changes everything for our family."

A strange, uneasy knot tightened in my stomach. "What news, Dad?"

"I'm getting married!" he announced proudly.

I froze. "Married? Dad... you haven't dated anyone since Mom passed. Who are you marrying?"

"Her name is Victoria Vance," my father said, his tone practically buzzing with excitement. "She's an incredible woman, Emmy. A real force in Boston and New York. We're throwing a small engagement dinner at the estate in Manhattan next weekend to celebrate."

The air completely left my lungs.

Vance.

"Emmy? Are you still there?"

"Did you... did you say, Vance?" I choked out, my fingers tightening around the phone until my knuckles turned stark white.

"Yes! Victoria Vance," my father continued, completely oblivious to the silent chaos unfolding on my end of the line. "In fact, her son goes to Linchester, too! He's a senior. Plays hockey, I think. Do you happen to know him?"

The small room seemed to tilt sideways. The floorboards felt unstable beneath my sneakers.

"Emery?"

"Yeah," I whispered, my throat feeling like it was packed with sand. "Yeah, Dad. I know him."

"Fantastic! Victoria mentioned he lives off-campus. You two will practically be family soon. Isn't that great?"

Family. The word struck me like a physical blow.

"I... I have to go, Dad," I rasped out, my vision blurring. "I'll call you back later."

I ended the call and dropped the phone onto the table.

My father was marrying Victoria Vance. The socialite whose last name belonged to the infuriating, arrogant giant currently sitting twenty feet away in the master bedroom. The guy who had spent two years mocking my relationship, taking low shots at Mason on the ice, and treating me like an inconvenient stain on his living room rug.

A wave of pure, unfiltered anger wiped away my exhaustion.

I didn't knock. I marched down the short, dim hallway, grabbed the brass handle of Atlas's bedroom door, and shoved it open with everything I had.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I yelled.

Atlas was sitting on the edge of his unmade mattress, bare-chested, midway through pulling a clean black t-shirt over his head. He froze, his head snapping toward me, his gray eyes flashing with instant, lethal irritation.

"Ever heard of knocking, Vale?" he barked, yanking the shirt down over his broad shoulder. "Get the hell out of my room."

"Did you know?!" I demanded, stepping further into his space, completely ignoring his warning. "Did you know about this whole sick joke?!"

Atlas stood up slowly, towering over me as his jaw clenched tight. "What are you rambling about?"

"My dad just called me!" I practically shouted, my hands shaking at my sides. "He's marrying Victoria Vance! Next weekend! Did you plan this?! Is this some twisted game you and your mom are playing?!"

Atlas went completely still. For a second, the cold, arrogant composure on his face cracked, replaced by genuine, unfiltered shock.

"What did you just say?" his voice dropped, turning sharp as broken glass.

"Your mother is marrying my father!" I cried, tears of rage finally spilling over my eyelashes. "We're going to be step-siblings, Atlas! Did you know about this when I signed that lease?!"

"Shut your mouth," Atlas growled, taking two fast, heavy steps toward me.

He didn't soften. He didn't offer a hand or a comforting word. Instead, he crowded into my personal space until I was forced to step back, my spine hitting the cold wooden doorframe of his bedroom.

He slammed his hand against the wall right beside my head, the wood shuddering under the impact.

"I don't control who my mother dates," Atlas spat out, his dark gray eyes pitch-black with rage, his face inches from mine. "And if I had known she was touching a Vale, I would have dragged her out of New York myself months ago."

"You really didn't know?" I pressed, refusing to let him see me shrink back, even as my heart hammered violently against my ribs.

"No, I didn't damn well know!" he sneered, pulling back and running both hands through his messy dark hair in sheer frustration. "You think I want you as family?! You think I want my mother tied to your broke, chaotic disaster of a life?!"

"Don't you dare talk about my family!" I hissed, taking a step forward and shoving his chest with both hands.

He barely moved an inch, but his eyes locked onto mine with a dark, dangerous intensity. He grabbed my wrist in mid-air, his grip firm and unyielding, freezing me in place.

"Don't touch me," he warned in a low, rasp. "Listen to me closely, Emery. We are not family. We will never be family. You stay on your side of this house, you keep your mouth shut at that dinner next weekend, and you stay out of my way."

"Gladly," I yanked my wrist out of his hold, glaring up at him with every ounce of hatred I possessed. "Because living with you is bad enough. Finding out our parents are engaged makes me want to throw up."

"Then pack your bags and leave," Atlas said flatly, pointing a finger toward the front door. "Nobody is holding a gun to your head, Vale. You want out? The door isn't locked."

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood He knew I couldn't leave. He knew I had nowhere else to go, no money, and no safety net.

"I'm not leaving," I whispered through gritted teeth. "I paid my deposit."