Three

Hira's POINT OF VIEW

“I expect you to at least try not to look miserable.”

My mother's voice cut through the awful silence just as the car highlighted in front of a house.

It's been a week since the incident happened and I cannot believe that my supposed best friend couldn't, for once, come to see how I was fairing. Instead, all I heard was a blame and the news of her dating my ex, now.

Yeah, I know. I wasn't fine. I cried my eyes out and swore to get back at me, but here I was, in another city— Los Angeles, to start a new life with a new family.

All too much to accept just in one week and yet she wants me to shine my teeth like this was the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I turned my head slightly, staring out the window at the gigantic gates already swinging open into her unfamiliar but expensively wealthy driveway.

“I'm not performing for anyone!” I replied.

“You're always performing,” My mother, Maria said, something a hand over her hair as it she were the one stepping into something important. “Whether you realize it or not.”

The car rolled forward, the tires crunching softly. There was no point arguing with her. There hadn't been a point since the moment she decided everything for me without asking.

The house came into full view as we pulled closer, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe properly.

It wasn't just big.  It was enormous! Every little to tiny detail of the house felt intentional and wealthily built. It wasn't the kind of place that just exists for its sake, it was like an announced house.

Wealthy exterior and interiors.

“This is …a lot,” I said before I could stop myself.

This explains why my mother had decided to move on after three years of stage four cancer took my dad away from me. She decided to jump into a wealthy man's hand and get married off just in the blink of an eye.

“It’s appropriate,” my mother replied simply, already reaching for the door handle. “And try not to sound surprised. It’s not a good look.”

Of course it wasn’t.

I pushed the door open and stepped out. The air was different here There were no voices, no distant sounds of neighbors, no familiar background noise to fill the space. Just calmness.

A new beginning, my foot.

I grabbed my bag from the back seat, adjusting the strap over my shoulder as my mother moved ahead of me without hesitation, her heels clicking softly against the floor leading to the front door. She reached for the handle and opened it like she had done it a hundred times before.

“Come on,” she said, glancing over her shoulder briefly. “Don’t linger.”

I stepped inside and the first thing I noticed was the space.

Not just the size, but the way it was arranged, clean, everything in its place like it had been carefully planned down to the smallest detail. The floors lightened under the soft lighting, the furniture was minimal but expensive, nothing out of place, nothing personal enough to feel lived in.

“This will take some getting used to,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

“You’ll adjust,” my mother said easily, already setting her bag down and moving further into the house. “People always do.”

She spoke as though this was a usual thing to do.

I followed her anyway, with a slower step, my gaze drifting over everything without really seeing it. My mind kept pulling me back, replaying things I didn’t want to think about—the hallway, the laughter, the way everyone had looked at me like I was something to tear apart.

And him. The way he didn't stop it and even made it worse.

I pushed the thought away, forcing myself to focus on where I was now.

It was a different city, different house and different life. Maybe a fresh start wouldn't hurt…would it?

“Hira.”

I looked up.

There was a man standing near the far end of the room, his presence was calm, but undeniable in the way he filled the space without effort.

. He wasn’t imposing in the way the house was, but there was something about him that made you pay attention anyway.

“This is..” my mother started, her tone turning into something more calmer. “This is…”

“I can introduce myself,” he said gently, cutting her off without making it sound like a correction.

His gaze settled on me. “Alaric Aldric,” he said. “It's good to finally meet you, Hira.”

I turned and raised a brow at my mom in suspicion. “Alaric Aldric? Wasn't he supposed to be Victor Gale?”

He chuckled at that. “Oh. I deliberately told your mother not to tell you my name.”

Alaric Aldric.

The name rang a bell in my ears, but it didn't fully land in my skull yet.

“Hi,” I replied, my voice polite, automatic.

He stepped a little closer,  enough to close the distance without making it uncomfortable. “I hope the move wasn’t too difficult.”

It was! I couldn't accept the fact that we were leaving my father's house! The apartment that held many memories!

But that wasn’t what he was asking.

“It was fine,” I said.

A small  smile touched his lips, like he understood more than I was saying but wasn’t going to push.

“That’s good,” he said. “You’ll have time to settle in. There’s no rush.”

My mother let out a soft breath, like she was satisfied with how the interaction was going, her eyes flicking between us briefly.

“I told you,” she said to me. “Everything is already arranged. Your room is upstairs. We can go through the details later.”

Details?

I nodded, even though I didn’t feel any of it.

Aldric’s gaze lingered on me for a second longer before he spoke again, in a casual tone, almost like an afterthought.

“My son should be back soon,” he said. “He had something to take care of, but he’s been looking forward to meeting you.”

“Right,” I said, though I wasn’t sure why I suddenly felt anxious.

He had a son too?

My mother smiled, like this was all falling into place exactly the way she wanted it to. “That will be good,” she said. “It’s important for them to get along.”

Important! Oh, now it is. Everything was important except the parts that actually mattered.

The sound of the door interrupted the awkward moment for me. It wasn't from the one we had come through, but another entrance and something about it instantly made my attention snap in that direction before I could stop myself.

It was nothing. Just someone coming home like a normal thing.

Except nothing about this felt normal.

But the fragrance and the steps were just too familiar for me that I had to tell myself that I was imagining things.

That I was still stuck in my head, still replaying things that had already happened, still expecting something to go wrong because that was all I had known lately.

But then the figure appeared at the side of the hallway….and everything stopped.

For a second, my mind refused to process what I was seeing because clearly, it wasn't making sense to me.

Because standing there, framed by the soft light of the hallway, looking exactly the same as he had the last time I saw him…

Was Alaric Jeremiah.

His gaze met mine and I swear that I saw a surprised look on his face before he quickly masked it off with maximum composure.

Alaric Jeremiah. Alaric Aldric.

Everything started to make sense now as I saw him.

My eyes flicked between them, the resemblance suddenly obvious. The same structure, the same authority, the same way they carried themselves like the world adjusted around them.

Okay! Okay!

No. No, this wasn’t happening.

Do not tell me that Prince Alaric Jeremiah is my step-brother. I don't want to hear it.

“This is my son,” Aldric said, his voice breaking through the silence, calm and completely unaware of the storm unfolding in my head. “Jeremiah.”

How? H…how possible? I thought he had no family anymore. Nobody talked about his father like he was alive!

Now, he has been introduced to me like I didn’t already know. Like I hadn’t been standing in front of him just days ago while he…

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay still, to not let anything show, even though everything inside me was unraveling.

Jeremiah took a step forward, his gaze never leaving mine.

“This is Hira,” my mother added, her tone bright with expectation, like she was introducing strangers who had never crossed paths before. “My daughter.”

Jeremiah stopped a few feet away, close enough now that I could see the details I had tried to forget on his face, the sharp line of his jaw, the stupid cocky smirk.

Jeez!

For a moment, no one spoke until he finally did. “Hira.”

He repeated like this was the first time he would be meeting me.

I forced myself to hold his gaze, because if he was going to pretend…so could I.

“What are the odds?”

My mom just got entwined with my bully hockey captain’s father and now…he was my step-brother?