5

Roxy

The drive to campus felt like a countdown to something I wasn’t ready to face.

“David,” I said, leaning toward the front seat. “You really don’t need to stay parked outside all day.”

His eyes stayed on the rearview mirror. “Young Miss, I’m only following Mr. Sinclair’s instructions.”

“I’m the one attending classes. It’s fine, really.”

“With respect, the boss pays my salary.” Smooth, unshakeable. “It’s my job.”

Loyal to the money. Which meant loyal to Dorian.

I leaned my temple against the window. Was this my mother’s anxious idea of protecting me, or was Dorian making sure I couldn’t go anywhere without him knowing?

He played the benevolent benefactor well. I knew better than to believe it.

“We have arrived, young miss.”

I scanned the drop-off zone through the tinted glass. Clear. If anyone here saw me step out of a car like this, the scholarship-kid rumors would eat me alive before the first lecture.

“Thank you, David.” I was out, and the door was shut before I let myself breathe.

“Roxy!”

Anna came around the library archway and threw her arms around me, vanilla perfume grounding me for a second before the weight in my chest came back.

“Look at you, my little closet heiress,” she teased, pulling back with a grin. “How are you holding up?”

I opened my mouth to tell her everything. The lecture bell cut me off.

“I’ve got class,” she sighed, squeezing my hand. “Meet after?”

“After.”

I sat through the lecture without absorbing a word of it. My brain kept looping the same three lines: He saw me. He knew I was watching. He saw what I was doing to myself.

Anna was waiting on a courtyard bench when class let out. “Roxy.” She studied my face. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m your best friend. You can tell me anything.”

Once the hallway cleared, I told her—the spying, the guilt, the moment his eyes found mine in the dark. I kept one thing buried, out of shame: what I’d done to myself while I watched.

Anna’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my God.”

“I know I made a mistake,” I said.

She studied me, then exhaled. “What if he didn’t actually see you? What if guilt’s just messing with your head?”

“I know what I saw, Anna.”

“Roxy, if he really saw you, wouldn’t he have said something? Or told your mom? He didn’t see you.”

She pulled me closer. “And even if he did—let it stay buried. If he’s pretending it never happened, take the win.”

“What if he uses it against me?”

She laughed, swatting my back. “Use what? You’re his daughter now.”

“He isn’t my dad.”

“Legally, socially—he is.”

I let it go. It was easier than arguing.

By the time we walked out through the main gates, it was late.

“Let’s catch the bus,” Anna said.

“He gave me a car.”

She stopped dead. “Are you serious?”

“And a driver.”

“Okay, welcome to the life of an heiress.” She bowed theatrically. “Young Miss.”

I laughed despite myself and dragged her toward the curb before anyone could notice. David was waiting by the sedan.

“What are you even scared of?” Anna asked once we were inside.

“People gossiping.”

“About what? You should be rubbing it in everyone’s face. The look on Jessica's face alone would be priceless—”

Jessica.

The name landed like a slap. She was the one who’d taken Evander from me, two years ago.

Evander?

A sudden, uneasy chill settled in my chest. “Anna.” I leaned in so David wouldn’t hear. “The young master. His name is Evander.”

“Evander?”

I nodded quickly.

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about that cheating bastard.” Anna rolled her eyes. “Your ex-boyfriend?”

“How did you know?”

“It’s written all over your face.” She groaned. “Please tell me you’re not still hung up on him.”

“No, it’s not that. My stepfather’s son is named Evander.”

“Oh, don’t make me laugh. That broke, cheating bastard? Same name, that’s all.”

I didn’t argue. I just watched the streetlights blur past and wondered which of us was right.

The gates swung open on the Sinclair estate. For some reason, Anna’s words didn’t feel reassuring anymore.

Inside, laughter drifted from the living room. My mother and Dorian, drinks in hand.

“I am back.”

“Welcome home, honey.” My mother crossed to me and took my hands, guilt written across her face. “I’m so sorry about this morning. Can you forgive me?”

“Mom.”

“I am really sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m sorry too.”

She pulled me into a hug, smoothing my hair down.

“I’m glad you two made up,” Dorian said, rising from the sofa.

Play his game. If he could perform for an audience, so could I.

“Dad.” I bowed my head slightly. “Sorry for earlier.”

“It’s fine.” He took my hand, his grip warm and just a shade too firm. “You’re my daughter now.”

I slipped free before my mother could notice the tension in it. “I’ll go change.”

“Come down for dinner,” she called after me.

I felt his eyes on my back the whole way up the stairs.

My bedroom door opened onto a closet I hadn’t left open. Full now—designer dresses, silk, shoes, and bags, all sized for me.

I changed into an old dress instead and went straight back down.

“Mom! Who bought all those clothes in my closet?”

She beamed. “Do you like them?”

“They look expensive.”

“Your dad got them. You’re a Sinclair now—you should dress like one.”

“All of it’s for me?”

“Do you like them?” Dorian asked from the head of the table, watching me the way he watched everything.

“Yes, Dad. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. You deserve the best.”

Dinner tasted like ash. I couldn’t work out why he was giving me things I hadn’t asked for, and I knew refusing them would only hurt my mother more.

“Your brother will be coming home soon,” Dorian said casually between bites.

“My brother?”

“Evander. Finished his studies abroad. Some personal matters kept him longer than expected.”

“I can’t wait to meet him,” my mother said, hand over her heart.

“Soon,” Dorian said. “Very soon.”

I wanted to ask, but I was afraid of the answer. Still, I asked.

“Can I see his picture?”

My mother tilted her head. “You’ll meet him soon enough, honey.”

“It’s fine.” Dorian was already unlocking his phone, scrolling. “Here. Your brother.”

He slid it across the table.

I looked down, and the air left my lungs before I understood why.

There was no mistake. The jaw. The arrogant set of his mouth. The eyes staring straight into the camera.

Evander. The one who broke my heart was staring back at me from Dorian’s phone like he’d never left.