Chapter 2

Holding my breath, I tentatively reached out with my other hand.

To my surprise, the little creature slithered right along my fingers and curled directly into the palm of my hand.

“This girl isn’t even afraid of it?”

A silent thought echoed from the doorway.

I snapped my head up to look.

A lean, slender young man stood at the entrance. Shaggy, with slightly long hair, partially veiled his eyes, framing an intense, melancholic disposition. His gaze pinned me down, tracking my movements like a predatory serpent.

I recognized him instantly. He was Owen Barrington, the eldest son of the Barrington family—and my new older brother.

I recalled how fiercely Serena had detested him in our past life, frequently labeling him a dark-minded, twisted psycho. High society whispered rumors about his eccentric personality, painting him as a reclusive mute whose thoughts no one could ever decipher. The public only knew that his greatest passion involved breeding bizarre, exotic pets.

Owen extended his hand. Sensing its master, the small snake smoothly slithered back onto his sharply contoured palm, winding its body around his pale skin.

I remained seated, keeping my eyes fixed entirely on the snake.

Owen studied me with dark, brooding eyes, maintaining his absolute silence. Yet, his mind spoke volumes to me.

Owen thought to himself, “Of course... She’s terrified of me, just like everyone else. What on earth was I even hoping for?”

A soft chuckle escaped my lips. Breaking the tension, I reached my hand out toward him.

“Hi there, I’m Hill,” I said, offering a warm smile. “Are you my brother? We’re family from now on.”

Owen stiffened, staring at my outstretched hand as if thoroughly debating whether he should take it.

“This little guy is incredibly cute,” I added, glancing down. “What’s its name?”

He looked visibly stunned, requiring a long, heavy pause before he finally managed to respond.

“Snow.”

He lightly tapped the snow-white head of the little serpent.

Then, he reached out and took my hand. As our palms met, Snow actively slithered across our joined hands and wrapped itself comfortably back around my forearm.

“I’m Owen,” he murmured.

The rumors certainly hadn’t lied about him being a man of few words; the moment he uttered those two brief sentences, his lips sealed tight once more.

However, I caught his mind drifting into a deeper monologue.

Owen thought to himself, “People have told me they liked snakes before. But the second they actually saw this little one, they slammed it onto the floor on the spot, and some even tried to kill it.”

He continued to question secretly, “Are you going to be just like those fake, hypocritical liars? Are you only lying right now to get on my good side?”

His intense gaze locked onto my face, searching for a crack in my armor. I didn’t display a single shred of fear. Instead, I carefully supported Snow and gently stroked the top of its head, treating it no differently than a regular puppy or kitten.

Surprisingly cooperative, Snow tilted its head into my touch and playfully flicked its tongue at me as if saying hello.

Owen’s pupils vibrated slightly, a profound look of astonishment flashing through his dark eyes.

I was nothing like those hypocritical upper-class phonies.

In my previous life, I had majored in medicine and possessed a solid grasp of zoology. A snake flicking its tongue was merely its way of scenting and surveying its surroundings—the exact behavioral equivalent of a dog or a cat sniffing around a room. Domesticated pet snakes were notoriously docile; as long as they didn’t perceive a threat, they would never strike out.

Besides, this little guy actually seemed to genuinely like me.