Four

I must have dozed off without realizing it because the sharp knock on my door jolted me awake. For a second, I wasn’t even sure where I was. My eyes traced the unfamiliar ceiling before the memory of this new house flooded back.

"Mr Atlas?" a gentle voice called from the other side of the door. "Dinner is ready. Your family is waiting."

I pushed myself up with a groan, embarrassed that I’d actually fallen asleep while waiting for dinner to arrive. My voice came out a little raspy when I replied, "I’ll be down in just a minute, thank you."

Swinging my legs off the bed, I ran a hand through my hair, trying to tame the mess sleep had left behind and a tug at the wrinkles in my top to make me look halfway decent. If Rowan was going to be there, the last thing I wanted was to look like I just climbed out of a nap.

When I finally opened the door, the maid stood patiently in the hall. She seemed to be in her mid-thirties, with her hair pulled into a neat bun and her uniform perfectly pressed. There was a kind softness in her eyes when she looked at me.

"This way, Mr Atlas," she said, her voice warm and polite, as if guiding me through a maze of unfamiliarity.

I followed her down the long hallway, my footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floor. Everything about this house felt intimidating, the grand staircase we descended, the faint scent of expensive candles wafting through the air.

The maid flashed me a small, encouraging smile as we reached the doors to the dining room, almost as if she understood that I was walking into more than just a family meal. "Here we are," she murmured, opening the doors for me.

What I saw nearly took my breath away, a luxurious dining room that looked straight out of a magazine. The chandelier above cast a warm, golden light across the long table, which was set with fine china and polished silver. And at the far end, already seated with that familiar air of indifference, was Rowan.

As soon as I stepped inside, my eyes scanned the table. My mom was already seated, smiling warmly when she noticed me, and across from her sat Roderick, looking perfectly at ease in his tailored shirt. Then there was Rowan, lounging in his chair as if he owned the place, his eyes meeting mine for just a split second before narrowing in that way that always twisted my stomach.

The only empty chair was right next to him. Of course.

I forced a smile that felt more strained than it should have and crossed the room, each step echoing louder in my own mind than it likely did in reality. Sliding into the seat, I kept my eyes fixed on the polished surface of the table, determined to avoid the heat of Rowan’s stare on the side of my face.

Roderick broke the silence first, his deep voice kind. "Atlas, welcome to your first dinner with us. I trust you’ve settled in well. Do you like your room?"

Grateful for the small talk, I looked up and offered him a genuine smile. "I do, actually. It’s beautiful. Thank you for arranging it...I really appreciate it."

But before I could even finish, I heard Rowan scoff. I glanced sideways just in time to see him roll his eyes, his lips curling into a grimace as if he couldn’t believe I had the nerve to express gratitude.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, but I sat up straighter, refusing to let him see how much that small gesture bothered me.

I kept my gaze on my plate, trying to concentrate on the food instead of the tension knotting in my stomach. Mom and Roderick chatted easily, their voices filling the room so there was no need for me to chime in.

"You know," Roderick began, putting down his glass, "I was thinking it could be nice to plan a family vacation next summer. I still have the beach house down in Clearwater, and it’s been too long since I’ve used it."

Mom’s face lit up immediately. "That sounds wonderful," she said with a little laugh, leaning toward him in that soft way she always did. "A whole week by the ocean... I can already picture it. The sun, the waves, the four of us getting some family bonding time."

I forced a small smile, nodding as if the idea excited me just as much, though I couldn’t help but picture Rowan ruining the whole scene somehow. Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at him. He hadn’t reacted at all. He just kept cutting into his food, quiet and unreadable, as if the discussion about family vacations didn’t concern him.

Mom sighed happily, clearly getting lost in her thoughts of sandy beaches and family photos, while Roderick reached for her hand across the table. I pressed my lips together and lowered my gaze back to my plate, trying to brush away the lump in my throat as if it were just a bite I’d taken too quickly.

I tried to focus on my food, but curiosity gnawed at me. Against my better judgment, I stole a glance at Rowan. His shoulder-length dark hair was pulled into a half-up, half-down ponytail that somehow made him look effortlessly stylish, as if he’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. His jawline was sharp, his build athletic, and those green eyes, so bright, untroubled, and frustratingly gorgeous. It was no wonder half the school seemed captivated by him. Too bad all that beauty was wasted on someone with the personality of a snake.

Before I could look away, his gaze snapped to me. "What the hell are you staring at?" he asked flatly, irritation lacing his tone.

’Well, shit.’

I felt heat rush to my neck, fumbling for words that just wouldn’t come. "N-nothing," I stammered, quickly darting my eyes back to the food on my plate as if roast chicken had suddenly become the most interesting thing on the planet.

Rowan let out a sharp breath and pushed back his chair with more force than necessary. "I’ve lost my appetite," he muttered, already turning away from the table.

"Rowan," Roderick said firmly, setting his fork down. "Sit back down. We’re having our first dinner together."

But Rowan didn’t even pause. He kept walking, his figure retreating until he disappeared down the hall, leaving behind only the faint echo of his footsteps and a heavy silence that settled over the room.

I sank deeper into my chair, cheeks still burning, wishing I could just blend into the polished floor with him.

"Rowan!" Roderick called again, his voice louder this time, carrying an authority I imagined most people didn’t ignore. But Rowan was already gone, the sound of his departure swallowed by the hallway.

Mom reached across the table and gently touched Roderick’s arm. "Roderick," she said softly, "just let him go. This is new for him too. A new stepmother, a stepbrother... it can all be overwhelming."

Roderick’s jaw tightened for a moment before he exhaled, nodding reluctantly. "You’re right," he murmured, putting his napkin down. Then he looked at me, and there was a hint of apology in his eyes. "Faye, I’m sorry for that. Rowan shouldn’t have walked out like that, and he definitely shouldn’t have talked to you that way."

I quickly shook my head, forcing a small smile. "It’s fine. Really."

But Roderick didn’t seem convinced. He leaned back a little, his tone softening. "I want you to know that I’m aware of the situation with you and Rowan at school. The... incident at the pool. I’ve heard how he treated you. Helen told me, and so have Rowan’s teachers."

My fork froze halfway to my mouth, and my stomach dropped. "You... you know about that?" I asked quietly, my voice smaller than I wanted.

"Yes," Roderick said, regret flashing in his eyes. "And I want to apologize for how he treated you. Rowan can be stubborn, and he doesn’t always think about the impact of his actions on others. I had hoped he’d grow out of that with time. Clearly, he hasn’t yet."

Mom reached for my hand under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but my head was still spinning.

Roderick’s voice softened. "All I can ask, Atlas, is that you give this household a chance. I know Rowan has made things tough, but I really hope you both can find a way to get along despite all that’s happened."

I swallowed hard and nodded, though words failed me. "Of course," I managed to say, even as my mind spun with the shock of his honesty.

The rest of dinner passed in a quiet blur, my fork moving from plate to mouth more out of habit than hunger. Roderick and Mom chatted occasionally, but my thoughts kept circling back to what he’d said—Roderick knew. He knew about the bullying, about Rowan’s cruelty, and yet here we were, under the same roof, pretending to be a family.