5

Celeste

The sound of silverware clinking against plates was the only noise in the huge dining room.

I felt so out of place sitting at this table that looked like it belonged to kings and queens. The golden chandelier above us cast light on silver dishes and crystal glasses filled with expensive wine. My stomach churned, not because I was hungry, but because Jace sat right next to me.

He hadn’t spoken since his angry outburst, but I could feel his eyes on me - cold and challenging, like a predator watching its prey. Every breath I took felt measured, and careful.

“Celeste,” my new father said warmly, passing me a bowl of fresh strawberries. “We grow these in our own garden.”

I accepted it with a polite smile. “Thank you.”

“They’re not sweet this time of year,” Jace murmured, his eyes locking on mine in open challenge.

My stepfather’s warm smile faded. “They taste fine, Jace.”

Jace stabbed his toast harder than necessary. “If you say so, Dad.”

Across the table, my mother laughed too loudly, the sound fake and desperate. “The food here is incredible, isn’t it, Celeste?”

“Yes,” I replied, even though I’d barely tasted anything. My appetite had disappeared the moment Jace walked into my room this morning.

Jace leaned back in his chair, his voice low but dripping with sarcasm. “Be careful not to get too comfortable. You never know when all this might disappear.”

My fingers tightened around my fork until my knuckles turned white. “Some people don’t need expensive things to be happy.”

His smirk deepened, a devilish curve plastered across his face. “Is that what you tell yourself at night, tucked into your new silk sheets?”

“Jace,” his father warned, but there was no real authority in his voice.

Jace didn’t even look at him. His dark eyes stayed locked on mine, like we were playing a dangerous game that only he understood.

My stepfather cleared his throat. “We’re family now. I’d like us to act like it.”

Jace dragged his fork across his plate, the screech making me flinch. “Sure. Family.”

The rest of dinner felt endless. My stepfather tried to make small talk, but every comment Jace made was designed to cut me down. He spoke quietly, his cruel words meant only for my ears.

Each bite of food tasted like trash. My jaw ached from clenching my teeth so hard. I survived the first family dinner, but I knew this was just the beginning of whatever twisted game Jace wanted to play.

“So, Celeste,” my stepfather said after the main course, still trying to fill the uncomfortable silence. “What are your hobbies? What do you like to do?”

I swallowed hard. “I like to read… draw, sometimes.”

His face lit up. “Drawing? That’s wonderful! We have an art studio upstairs. You should use it.”

“Maybe she can draw a picture of the poor life she left behind,” Jace stated casually.

My hands trembled as I gripped my napkin. “At least I had a life worth remembering,” I shot back before I could stop myself.

The entire table went silent. Even the soft background music seemed to fade away.

“That’s enough,” my stepfather said firmly. “We will not do this at my dinner table.”

But Jace just smiled, leaning slightly toward me until his arm brushed mine. The brief contact sent electricity shooting through my body, and I hated myself for reacting to him. “I’m just trying to get to know my new sister,” he said innocently.

My mother stared down at her wine glass, her face pale. She wasn’t going to defend me. Not here, not in front of her new husband and his money.

Jace reached for his drink, letting his arm graze mine again. This time, I knew it was on purpose. “Oops, sorry,” he whispered, but his tone said he wasn’t sorry at all.

I bit my tongue so hard I tasted blood. He wanted me to explode, to lose control and prove I didn’t belong in his perfect house.

“Celeste,” my stepfather said suddenly, “your mother mentioned you’ve never lived somewhere quite like this.”

“That’s true,” I admitted. “Our apartment was... much smaller.”

Jace laughed quietly, the sound bitter. “That’s putting it nicely.”

I turned to face him, forcing my voice to stay calm even though my heart was racing. “And yet somehow, we were happy there.”

For just a moment, his smirk disappeared. “Happy,” he repeated. “Then why are you here?”

My stepfather took my mother’s hand, making her blush like a teenager. The sight made my stomach turn. “Please don’t take my questions the wrong way,” he said gently. “I just want to get to know my new daughter.”

“Of course, Dad,” I replied, smiling even though nothing about this felt right. My mother looked so pleased with herself, and it broke my heart. “Ask me anything you want.”

We made small talk for a few more minutes, but every word felt forced. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Excuse me,” I said. “I think I’ll go to my room now.”

I walked quickly toward the stairs, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of that dining room. Being around them - around him - made it impossible to think clearly.

I was almost to my bedroom door when I heard his voice behind me, smooth as silk and twice as dangerous.

“Running away already?”

I stopped and turned around slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs as his dark eyes met mine. “Walking away before I say something I’ll regret,” I managed to say.

His lips curved into a smile that made my blood run cold. “The thing about regrets, Celeste... they have a way of catching up to you.”

“What did you mean by that?”

I froze as Jace started walking toward me, each step deliberate and predatory. He waved his hand at Mary, dismissing her. She hurried away, leaving us completely alone in the long hallway.

Jace moved closer until I could smell his cologne - expensive and intoxicating. He leaned down, his hot breath touching my neck.

I didn’t know if he was doing this on purpose, but whatever game he was playing was affecting me in ways I didn’t want to admit.

My body betrayed me, responding to his closeness despite my mind screaming at me to run.

“What—what do you think you’re doing?” I stammered.

Just like in my dream, Jace’s finger reached up and brushed across my lips, so gently it felt like a whisper.

“These lips,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that made my knees weak. My body reacted instantly, like it had been waiting for his touch. This was dangerous. We were alone, and I was losing control of myself.

With a sudden motion, he pinned me against the wall, and a soft, unfamiliar sound escaped my lips.

“Who would’ve guessed,” he buzzed, his hand curling around my neck as he leaned in so close I could feel his heartbeat, “that you’re not only a gold digger, but also a petty little bitch.”

His words pierced through the fog of confusion and desire that clouded my mind. I snapped my eyes open, reality crashing back.

“What did you just call—” I began, but before I could finish, he stopped me in a way I never saw coming.