MasukYubi.
I thought I had survived the first few days living with Trey. Survived the tension, the stolen glances, the accidental brushes, the unbearable magnetism between us. But tonight, at this party, I realized I hadn’t survived a thing.
My mom had insisted we attend a small gathering family and friends gathering. I didn’t want to go, but apparently, showing a united “blended family” front was mandatory. And there he was, Trey, standing a few steps behind me, tall, silent, exuding that same dangerous calm stoic look that made my stomach twist and my pulse race.
I tried to focus on the conversation, on the polite laughter, on pretending I belonged. But someone brushing past me, whispering in my ear, caught my attention immediately.
“Hey, you look amazing tonight,” the guy said, smiling a little too closely. His hand brushed my shoulder, lingering.
My stomach did flips, and I tried to step back. “Uh thanks,” I murmured, forcing a polite smile.
And then I felt it, Trey’s hand closing around my wrist, firm, steady, pulling me away from the flirt. His grip was possessive, urgent, and my breath hitched.
“You can’t let him touch you like that,” he muttered, his voice low, almost a growl. “Do you understand?”
Heat pooled in my chest, and I felt my legs go weak. I opened my mouth to reply, to protest, but the words caught in my throat. “Why, why can’t I?” I whispered, voice trembling.
“Because,” he said, his lips dangerously close to my ear, “I’m the one who’s supposed to be worried about you.”
My heart hammered, and my face burned. I wanted to pull away, to create space, but his hand was still on my wrist, grounding me, controlling me, sending shivers down my spine. I wanted to hate him, I wanted to scream that this was wrong. And yet every nerve in my body was screaming in the opposite direction.
“Yubi” His voice was soft now, almost tender, but underneath it was the same dark intensity that had consumed me since the day we became step siblings. “Don’t make me lose control here.”
I shivered. Not from fear. Not entirely. From desire. From the unbearable pull he had over me. From the memory of our kiss that refused to leave my lips. “Trey we can’t and you have a girlfriend, I don't see how who I talk to is any of your business really” I managed to finally fire back.
I bit my lip, my hands trembling. I did want him. Every glance, every brush of skin, every whisper of his voice made me ache. But I couldn’t admit it not here, not now.
Before I could respond, he leaned closer, almost daring, his lips brushing my neck in a fleeting, stolen touch. I gasped, pressing back slightly, my mind spinning. My body betrayed me in ways that were impossible to ignore.
He pulled back, just enough to keep himself in control. His dark eyes locked onto mine, unreadable, dangerous. “It's my job to protect you from perverts like him, you are my little sister now, remember?” he whispered, voice low, husky, full of sarcasm.
I swallowed hard, my pulse racing with anger at him and his condescending tone.
The party around us continued, laughter and music filling the air, but we were in a world of our own.
A world where every glance, every movement, every brush of skin carried the weight of forbidden desire.
I looked away, trying to catch my breath. Trying to convince myself I could survive this. But survival felt impossible. Living in the same house, pretending to be siblings, and hiding the memory of that kiss, it was a torment I wasn’t sure I could endure.
Trey’s hand lingered near mine, just a whisper of a touch. A threat. A promise. I didn’t know which.
And as I stood there, feeling the heat of him, the tension, the pull between us, I knew one thing for certain: nothing about our situation was normal. Nothing about him was safe. And nothing about me could resist him.
I was about to walk away, when the man from early approached us, I had seen him around in the parties I had attended before we moved to Trey's neighborhood.
"may I have this dance yubi?" he asked politely, extending his arm to me. I es about to join him when Trey immediately stopped me, grabbing my arm.
"No she cannot, go find someone else." he said, his voice cold.
"He does not make the rules for me, so don't mind him, this is just my brother being an overprotective ass." I said taking his arm.
Trey was about to grab my arm when Kiara suddenly appeared from behind us.
"there you are, I have been looking for you all night." she said, with that fake smile she always had on.
I didn't even wait for him to say anything I just led Kevin, the man who had just asked me to dance to the dance floor leaving Kiara and Trey standing there, his gaze still on me.
YubiMichael’s face shifts, like he is bracing himself for something he doesn’t want to say. He adjusts Chanel in his arms even though she is already fast asleep against his chest.“Michael,” I whisper, a tremor running through my voice. “Did something happen to Mom?”His eyes flick up to mine. There is something there, something dark that makes the blood drain from my face.“Not exactly,” he says slowly.“What does that mean?” The words are barely audible. “Either something happened or it didn’t, right? So what are you trying to tell me?”He exhales, long and shaky, the kind of breath someone takes when they know the next words will break something.I lean forward, the couch cushion dipping under my hands, my heartbeat loud in my ears.“Michael,” I say again. “Where is she?if something has happened to her, I need to know.”He finally meets my eyes and I see it, fear is written all over his face. “Your mother has been missing for three days now Yubi.” he finally says. “What?” It co
Yubi“Who is this little angle?” Michael asks again, his eyes fixed on the baby carrier I’m gripping way too tightly. His voice isn’t angry. Just stunned. Confused. Trying to understand.I swallow. My throat is dry. Chanel whimpers softly as if she feels the tension seeping out of my pores.“This is Chanel,” I say, clearing my throat. “She is my daughter”Michael’s brows lift, his face is still expressionless, shocked even, he doesn’t ask questions, Instead he takes two slow steps toward me as if he’s scared any sudden movement might scare me away.“Your daughter?” he repeats in a low breath trying to take a peak at chanelI nod once. He studies my face like he is trying to compare me to the girl who left a year ago, then shifts his eyes to the tiny moving bundle in the carrier.“Come on,” he says quietly. “Let’s get you both inside.”He gestures toward the door, and I follow him on autopilot. My legs feel numb. My heartbeat is too loud. The police officers are still scattered outside
YubiThe moment the Uber turns into the long, winding driveway of the Blackwood estate, my stomach twists so hard I almost ask the driver to turn back around. I had prayed, begged silently that this would be a one day trip. Two days at most. Come home, spend Thanksgiving with the family, get answers, leave before my heart remembers too much.But one glance at the driveway tells me nothing about this trip is going to be simple or quick. There are police cars everywhere.I freeze with my hand on Chanel’s car seat, my breath gets caught in my chest. Blue and red lights flash across the mansion walls, painting everything in a sickening rhythm. Officers walk in and out of the front doors, talking into radios, taking notes, pacing. My stepdad Michael stands on the porch, his phone pressed to his ear, his shoulders stiff, his face pale.And this, this is not normal. Not for our family. Not for this house.I swallow hard.“Ma’am? We have arrived,” the driver says gently.I nod, though my m
YubiOne year laterI’m rocking Chanel gently in my arms, humming the same soft lullaby I have been singing since the day she was born, when my phone lights up on the bedside table. The vibration is low, barely a buzz, but something inside me tightens. A familiar tension rolls down my spine.Nobody calls me at this hour, it's almost midnight. I take a look at the caller ID, and the name is one I have dreaded for months. TreyThe name flashes on my screen, I have not spoken to him for a year now, since I left home. For a second, everything in my tiny apartment feels too small, the walls, the air in my chest.He is the last person I expected to ever call me, especially this late. Chanel lets out a tiny coo, her little fingers tightening around the chain of my necklace, grounding me just enough to move.“Hello?” My voice cracks. So much for sounding normal.There is a shaky exhale from the other end before he finally speaks“Yubi?”His voice hits me harder than I imagined it would. Dee
YubiI hardly sleep that night. Every time I close my eyes, I hear Trey’s voice echoing in my head.Kiari said yes. Whatever happened between us can never happen again.The words replay, over and over, until they carve themselves into my bones. I lie awake staring at the ceiling, the faint glow from the pool lights seeping through my curtains, reminding me of where everything fell apart.I press a hand to my stomach.It’s still flat. Still unchanged but after a few months I will not be able to hide it anymore. I need a plan, fast. By dawn, I have made a decision, a quiet, trembling, terrifying decision that settles into me like a final breath.I need to leave. It's the only way this works. Not because I want to run away.Not because I’m weak. But because staying here, staying in this house, staying near him will destroy me and our entire family of the truth ever came out.I need space and distance, besides like Trey had said, it was a mistake and one stupid mistake should not destro
YubiThree weeks later It has been three full weeks since that night I stood at the top of the stairs and watched Trey pull Kiari into the house like she belonged here. Three weeks since he said even a word to me. We have become strangers who live in the same house.At breakfast, I sit at the opposite end of the table, and he sits across from me and we all eat like a family, not one word spoken between us. Our parents think we are being petty.They don’t know there’s a wildfire spread between us, one we are both pretending isn’t burning everything in its path.For a while, avoidance works.For a while, I can pretend I’m moving on.But the past few days something has definitely been wrong, at first I thought I was coming down with a bug, but then the symptoms get worse, the nausea, the food cravings.At first, it was just mornings but it was getting worse. By week three, I can’t keep anything down not water, not tea, not even dry bread. My stomach turns at smells I used to love. Ch







