Chapter 4

Roxy’s POV

I pulled my keys out of my bag as I walked down the hallway toward my apartment, already thinking about the long shower I desperately needed.

But the second I reached my apartment, I stopped because the door was already open. My brows furrowed as I stared at the small gap between the door and the frame.

“What the hell?” I pushed the door open the rest of the way. “Hello?”

No one answered back, and my pulse picked up. I dug my phone out and called my mother while I stepped inside, my eyes moving across the entryway. Everything looked untouched my shoes still lined up by the wall, the little ceramic bowl for spare change right where I’d left it. I grabbed the umbrella from the stand by the door and held it out in front of me like a weapon.

The call rang and rang. “Come on, Mom. Pick up.”

I moved farther down the hall, and that’s when I heard it her ringtone, coming from my own living room. My fear drained out of me, and something far more familiar rushed in to replace it annoyance.

“What the hell is she doing here?” I muttered to myself.

I walked toward the living room and stopped so abruptly that the umbrella almost slipped from my hand. Two men in matching navy polo shirts were standing in the middle of my living room, carefully wrapping my things and placing them inside cardboard boxes. Half of my bookshelves were empty, and another man was carrying something from the direction of my bedroom.

And standing right in the middle of all the chaos was my mother. She had a clipboard in one hand and was pointing toward the hallway with the other.

“Yes, everything in her wardrobe needs to go too, but please be careful with the dresses. Some of them need to be hung properly during transportation, and the shoes should be packed separately.”

“Mom.”

She didn’t hear me, and her phone was still ringing inside the handbag sitting on my sofa.

“Mom!” I yelled louder this time.

She finally glanced up, blinking at me before a bright smile spread across her face. “Oh, there you are, sweetheart. I was beginning to wonder when you’d get home.”

I stared at her for a second before looking around my apartment again. “Mom, what the hell is this?”

“Richard sent movers.” She looked back down at the clipboard as though that was enough of an explanation. “I told you we’re doing this properly, Roxy. There was no point waiting until the weekend when everything could be moved today.”

My mouth fell open.

“Moved where?”

She finally looked at me. “To the manor, obviously.”

“I know where you mean. I’m asking why my things are being moved anywhere when I never agreed to move into Richard’s house.”

“You didn’t exactly disagree either.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “Were you drinking at the wedding? Because I remember that conversation very clearly. Richard asked me to move in, and I told him I wasn’t moving out of my apartment.”

“You said you couldn’t see yourself moving out anytime soon. Technically, you never said no.” Her lips curved. “It’s one wing of a very large house, Roxy. You’ll barely see anyone.”

There it was. Anyone she didn’t need to say his name.

I looked around at what was left of my apartment my apartment, the first place that had ever actually belonged to me.

“I’m twenty-four,” I said, keeping my voice low so I wouldn’t argue with her in front of strangers. “You can’t come into my apartment while I’m at work and pack my things because you and your new husband decided I should live with you.”

Her expression softened slightly. “No one is trying to control your life, sweetheart. Richard wants you to feel like you are part of the family, and I don’t understand why you’re determined to make that into something terrible.”

“I don’t care what Richard wants,” I snapped. “Mom, you knew exactly why I didn’t want to go there.”

For the first time, her expression changed, and I laughed bitterly. “There it is. At least now we’re talking about the actual problem.”

“Roxy, Cain is not going to control my marriage, and he shouldn’t control your life either. What happened six years ago was terrible, and I know how badly it affected you, but avoiding every place he might exist isn’t going to change what happened.”

“I’m not avoiding every place he might exist. I’m avoiding moving into the same damn house with him.”

One of the movers glanced toward us before quickly returning his attention to the box in front of him.

My mother lowered her voice. “You have your own job, your own apartment, and your own life. No one is taking any of that away from you. Richard wants all of us under one roof for a little while so everyone can get to know each other properly. Is giving him that really so terrible?”

I wanted to argue, wanted to remind her that I had built this entire small, quiet life with my own two hands after Cain had destroyed the girl I used to be and that she had watched me cry myself to sleep, refuse to leave the house, and watch me panic every time my phone went off because I was terrified someone had sent me another screenshot.

But I already knew how conversations with my mother ended. She always got what she wanted, and I knew she wouldn’t stop until I agreed.

“I’m keeping this apartment,” I said firmly. “And I’m keeping my job. I’m not quitting anything, and I’m definitely not becoming some Carrington accessory just because you married Richard.”

“No one is asking you to.” She reached out and patted my cheek before I could move away. “Just give the family a chance, sweetheart. That’s all.”

Forty minutes later, I was sitting beside her in the back of a car heading toward Carrington Manor. The journey took us farther away from the city until apartment buildings disappeared and enormous private properties began appearing behind high fences. When the iron gates of the Carrington estate finally came into view, they opened before the car had completely stopped.

I stared through the window as we drove inside—the pictures had looked impressive, but they hadn’t prepared me for the actual size of the place.

The manor stretched across the property in stone and glass, surrounded by perfectly trimmed gardens and enough land to make my entire apartment building look like a storage shed.

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered.

My mother smiled. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

I huffed, folding my arms. “That wasn’t a compliment.”

A woman was already waiting on the front steps when we pulled up. She looked somewhere in her sixties, with silver hair pulled tightly away from her face and a black dress that somehow made her look even more intimidating.

“Mrs. Odette,” my mother greeted warmly as she stepped out of the car. “This is my daughter, Roxy.”

Mrs. Odette’s gaze moved toward me, and she stared for slightly longer than necessary.

Something strange crossed her face as her eyes moved over my features, almost like she recognized something about me but couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

Then the expression disappeared.

“Welcome to Carrington Manor,” she said politely. “Your rooms are ready. I’ll have someone bring up the rest of your belongings when the movers arrive.”

“Charming,” I muttered once she was out of earshot.

My mother waved a hand. “Give her time. The staff loves me. They just need to adjust.”

Judging by Mrs. Odette’s face, I doubted that very much. But before I could say anything else, a young man came around from the hallway dark hair, broad shoulders, an easy grin that made him seem far less intimidating than everything else about this house.

“You must be Roxy.” He held out a hand. “Marcus. I’d say welcome to the madhouse, but Odette already scared you enough for one afternoon.”

I shook his hand, unable to stop the small smile that appeared on my face. “Was it really that obvious?”

“Extremely. You have the same expression I had the first time I came back here from boarding school and realized Odette somehow knew everything I’d done before I even reached the front door.”

“That doesn’t sound comforting.”

“It isn’t. But you get used to it eventually.”

I liked him immediately, which surprised me.

Just then, quick footsteps suddenly sounded from the staircase behind him, and a girl appeared moments later, her dark hair pulled into a loose braid and an oversized sweater hanging from one shoulder.

She looked me up and down openly. “So you’re the stepsister.”

I raised a brow when she actually started circling me. “Do you normally inspect people before introducing yourself?”

“Only when my father suddenly gets married and gives me a new sister without warning.”

“Ivy,” Marcus warned.

“What?” She stopped in front of me and grinned. “I’m Ivy, by the way. And for what it’s worth, I already like you better than the last woman my dad dated.”

Marcus groaned. “That’s a very low bar.”

“It’s still a bar.” Ivy shrugged.

I laughed before I could stop myself. Maybe this wouldn’t be a complete disaster after all.

Then Ivy’s grin widened. “Okay, fair warning before you get too comfortable. My older brother gets back this weekend, and pretty much every girl who’s ever met him needs at least a week to recover. I’m telling you now so you’re not blindsided.”

Every muscle in my body locked in place.

Her older brother.

Cain.

I forced myself to keep my expression relaxed. “I think I’ll manage.”

Ivy laughed as she started walking toward the staircase. “Trust me, that’s what they all say.”

I watched her go, my stomach tightening. She had no idea I had already met Cain Carrington.

And it had taken me six years to recover.