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Chapter 3

Abigail’s POV

The Cold Shower of Truth

For a moment, I was very happy for at least being here, and what I was actually happy about the most was that I was no longer going to be an only child. I had always grown up as the only child of my parents, and while Clarissa had been more like a sister to me, she was still only a friend.

Now, suddenly, I was part of a new family. I had a stepfather who seemed kind and gentle, and I had a stepbrother. For once in my life, I thought maybe I wouldn’t have to carry loneliness as a burden.

I couldn’t help but hope that my stepbrother and I would get along well. My stepfather, Mr. Ronaldo, had already shown me so much kindness in just a short while.

His words were warm, his smile carried sincerity, and unlike my mother, he didn’t scold or belittle me. He had a way of speaking that felt like he had thought of every word carefully before releasing it, as if to avoid hurting someone’s feelings. And most of all—he was rich.

Yes, I couldn’t deny it. His wealth made me secretly grateful because it gave me the privilege to finally walk the halls of the school I had always dreamed about, the one my late father had once promised to send me to if he ever got a new job.

Unfortunately, he had died before that dream could be fulfilled. Now, in an ironic twist of fate, my dream had been bought to light, not by him, but by my mother’s new husband.

As we made our way upstairs, Mr. Ronaldo’s voice echoed gently in the wide, decorated corridor.

“Abigail,” he said, glancing at me with soft eyes, “you know I’ve always wanted a daughter of my own. But just when my late wife and I were preparing for one, fate took her away from me. I thought I’d never get the chance again. But marrying your mother changed that. I love her a lot, and now I’m glad that I can finally call you my daughter. My son won’t be lonely anymore. He’s always wished for a sister. He may be a bit sassy, but you mustn’t take it too hard—deep down, he’s a good boy.”

His words pulled something in my chest, something warm that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I smiled faintly, blinking back emotions I didn’t want to show. “Thank you so much, Mr. Ronaldo… or… daddy,” I whispered shyly.

He chuckled softly, patting my shoulder. “It’s okay if it feels hard for now. You’ll get used to it gradually. Don’t force yourself. And Abigail, if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask your stepbrother. Let him know, or let me know.”

I nodded, even though part of me wondered why he trusted his son so much. Still, hearing him call me “daughter” left me stunned in a way I couldn’t easily explain.

Then my mother’s sharp voice cut through the moment. “That’s right, Abigail. You should be grateful. You should be very happy because the rightful heir of the Delmundo inheritance is your stepbrother. So you better listen to him in everything he does and behave.”

Her words, as usual, felt like a knife pressed against my throat. She wasn’t saying it to encourage me, she was reminding me of my place, reminding me that I was here only because of him, because of them.

I clenched my fists and forced a smile, muttering, “Thank you, Mom… thank you for changing my life.”

But deep inside, I didn’t mean a word. Not even on bit!

My chest tightened with the urge to run, so I quickly excused myself. “I’m going to use the bathroom,” I said, and before they could respond, I rushed upstairs. I didn’t even bother to ask where it was.

As luck would have it, I saw a door with Bathroom written neatly on the frame. Without a second thought, I pushed it open.

And there—my heart nearly stopped.

Standing before me was a very handsome guy, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his body dripping wet, his hair was messy and glistening from a fresh shower.

Droplets of water slid slowly over the hard ridges of his chest and abs, he has a bold lion tattoo on his chest, sparks of light bouncing off his skin.

My breath caught in my throat. His eyes were sea-green, deep, dangerous as it met mine with piercing intensity.

For a moment, I couldn’t look away. His jawline was sharp, his lips curved in that kind of dangerous smirk that screamed arrogance.

He looked like someone who knew the effect he had on people. My cheeks burned as my eyes roamed unwillingly over his figure, my heart was racing in ways I couldn’t understand.

But then, reality hit me like a slap.

It was him!!

The spoiled brat. The same arrogant boy I had caught earlier at school whose body was pressing against the professor’s, indulging in hot sex in her office! I had been too shocked to process it in my head. And now here he was….

He is….My stepbrother!!?

“No… no way,” I whispered to myself, shaking my head. My knees weakened, and all I wanted to do was turn around and flee.

But before I could even step back, he reached out swiftly, grabbing my wrist and pulling me inside the bathroom. My back hit the tiled wall with a soft thud, my heart thundering so hard I thought it might rip out of my chest.

His smirk deepened as he draw close to me, caging me with his arm braced firmly on the wall above my head.

His breath was warm against my cheek, his dripping hair falled close enough to touch my skin. I froze, barely able to breathe.

Surprise flashed in his eyes, though it was quickly replaced with that same flirty arrogance I had seen earlier. His lips curved. And his gaze locked onto mine, it was sharp and possessive.

My throat went dry. I could see every detail of his face now—the curve of his brows, the way his lashes framed those dangerous green eyes, the scar faintly etched near his jawline that only made him look more reckless.

Then he spoke to me, his voice was low, husky, and taunting.

“Cold shower,” he murmured, tilting his head. “Just like you advised me to. So… you're that gold-digger’s daughter… huh, step-sis?”

I flinched at the words. The mocking tone. The smirk that played at his lips.

Oh no! Not him, Not here and Not as my stepbrother!

Not the arrogant, spoiled brat….And the worst part?I couldn’t lie to myself! He is breathtaking.

But one thing was certain.

I couldn’t live with this guy. Not even for a single day.