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Chapter 4

Abigail’s POV

A Dinner I Couldn’t Swallow

Seriously, I can’t live with this guy. I can’t stay in the same house with him. To me, it felt like I was suffocating. I could suffocate if the both of us were living together because I can’t deal with him, not after what I saw.

When I saw him in the bathroom, his body dripping with water, his face glistening from the cold shower, and when he came close to me, I felt a sensation in my body that I had never felt before. It scared me because it wasn’t supposed to happen. It shouldn’t happen, not with him.

And then he had the audacity to say those words to me, calling my mom a gold digger. Of course, that’s what I expected from a spoiled rich brat. He was blunt, cruel, and that’s exactly what my mom deserves for going ahead to get married to another man when she should have stayed and just trained me.

But I already knew she couldn’t. In her own words, she doesn’t even like me.

I immediately ran out of the room. My chest was tight, my thoughts were spinning. I wanted to go to the restroom to wash my face and relax, but since he was there, I couldn’t.

I didn’t want to run into him again. When I kicked him and ran away, I could hear his mocking voice echoing behind me.

“Run rabbit, run. I’ll catch you, Abigail. I know that’s your name. My dad talks about you. I’ll make sure you don’t run anymore.”

His words chased me down the hallway, clawing at my ears, but I couldn’t care about what he was saying. I just wanted to breathe.

I rushed downstairs, my legs trembling, and went straight to the dining table. I sat down there, pretending as if nothing happened, though my hands were cold and my stomach was still knotted with fear and anger.

Why the hell should it be him? Why him of all people? Why is it this guy that has to be my stepbrother? I literally caught him with a professor today in her office.

He’s dangerous, and manipulative. He’s going to kill me—or at least kill my peace. My mind kept replaying the scene in the bathroom, his towel low on his waist, his smirk, the way his sea-green eyes caught mine like he owned me already.

I was still lost in that storm when I saw him. He came down the stairs dressed neatly in a fitted shirt, his hair was styled carelessly but perfectly.

My mom and my stepfather were with him, and they all came to sit around the table. I stiffened in my chair, forcing myself to pretend everything was fine.

My stepfather, Mr. Ronaldo, smiled warmly, looking between Alex and me. His voice carried that same calm authority he always had. “It’s nice of you to join us, Alex. This is Abigail, Sandra’s daughter. She’ll be going to your school as well, and I want you to finally act your age. Alex, show her around. She’s your stepsister, so make sure she feels safe whenever she’s with you.”

He spoke those words like a father who truly believed his son would listen. If only he knew.

Alex smiled faintly, that dangerous kind of smile that had no warmth, no real meaning. His eyes were locked on me, and I felt my stomach twist under his stare. He wasn’t looking at me like a stepsister. He was looking at me like prey.

I quickly lowered my gaze, hiding my expression before my stepfather noticed.

And then my mom chimed in, her face glowing with pride as she leaned forward. “Trust me, Alex. Abigail is great, and I’m sure you two would get along in no time. Maybe it will take a little while, but everything will be fine.”

Her words stung me because in my mind, I was screaming never. Never. I’m never getting along with this man. This womanizer, this flirtatious boy who thinks he owns the world. I could still hear his voice from earlier, taunting me, and threatening me.

But Alex leaned back on his chair casually, his lips curling into that flirty smirk again. “Yes. I’m sure she knows me already. After all, she has seen my….”

My heart jumped, and my body went cold. He was about to expose me.

I cut him off immediately, blurting out the first thing that came to my mind. “Name tag!”

My voice was too loud, too sharp, and everyone froze for a moment, their eyes snapping toward me. I realized too late that I had shouted it.

I forced an awkward laugh and added quickly, “Yeah… you know… I saw it in school, and it was reading that his name is Alex.”

I rushed the words out, my lips trembling, and then I grabbed a cup of water to cover my panic. I poured it down my throat in one go, hoping it would cool the heat rising in my cheeks.

But instead, the water went down the wrong way. I started choking, coughing loudly, my chest burning as tears welled up in my eyes.

Alex leaned closer with a mocking chuckle. His sea-green eyes glittered with amusement as he whispered, just loud enough for me to hear, “What, my dear stepsister? They didn’t teach you how to swallow water in public school?”

His smirk was cruel, but playful at the same time, and that made me even angrier.

“Alex, stop it!” his father snapped, his face tightening with disapproval.

But I couldn’t hold myself back anymore. My anger boiled to the surface. I looked him straight in the eye and said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Yeah, at least I’m not some people who are fucking their teacher for grades.”

The words slipped out like venom, sharp and cutting.

The table fell into silence. My mom and my stepfather looked at me in shock, their faces hardening as the weight of my words sank in. My mom’s face was deadly, her lips pressed tightly, her eyes glaring daggers at me.

I quickly tried to save myself, forcing out a laugh. “You know… I mean, some kids do that here. I wonder who…?”

I let my voice trail off as my eyes locked with Alex’s. His jaw clenched, his eyes burning with rage. He looked like he could devour me whole, and for a second, I almost regretted it. Almost.

My mom’s palm slammed on the table suddenly, the sound cracking through the room. “Abigail! Your language!” she shouted, her face flushed with fury.

I bent my head slowly, my hands clenching under the table, but inside I was still boiling. I could feel Alex’s eyes on me, burning holes into my skin.

Then he leaned back lazily in his chair, his smirk returning. His voice dripped with charm, though his eyes were still cold and angry. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Sandra. It seems like I am a big boy. Your daughter and I will get along just fine.”

He reached for the cake in front of him, scooping a piece with his fingers. Slowly, deliberately, he popped his hand into his mouth, licking the frosting off in a seductive way, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he gave me a wink.

Damn!