CHAPTER ONE

Chloe POV 

“C'mon, you're gonna love it there… it really isn't that bad.”

My mother chirps while driving, I don't reply, my head still bent down, fingers scrolling through my phone.

“Chloe, drop that phone. Remember the rules, this is our bonding time.” I grunt, switching off the phone.

The road stretches forever.

Fields blur past the window, green and gold and meaningless, carrying a taste of fresh leaves. I press my forehead against the glass, letting the vibration settle into my skull.

“Suck it all in, take photos. You used to love these things, road trips, especially with the boys, remember the Blackwell boys right?”

Of course I remember them, how will I forget the boys that brought fun into my childhood, and then broke it by leaving. 

“I was like seven, everything's changed since then. I barely even know their names.” 

Not barely, I vividly remember. Asher, Kai and Jace. After ten years, I never thought I'd meet them again.

Mom hasn’t turned on the radio. She does that when she’s nervous.

“We’ll be there in a few hours,” she says, like that means something.

I don’t answer.

Her fingers tighten on the steering wheel. I watch it from the corner of my eye—the way her knuckles pale, the way she keeps adjusting her grip.

“You could at least try,” she adds.

I let out a quiet laugh. “Try what? To be excited?”

“To not make this harder than it already is.”

That hits.

I turn my head slowly. “I’m making it harder?”

She exhales sharply. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It sounded like it.” I replied, barely letting the word leave her lips.

“You're gonna get to make new friends…”

“I never asked for it.” I cut her off.

Silence fills the car again, thicker this time.

A truck roars past us. The whole car trembles for a second, then settles.

“I just want us to have a fresh start,” she says.

There it is, I look back out the window. “You already used that line.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No,” I say quietly, “what wasn’t fair is you telling me he was a ‘good man.’”

Her breath catches.

“I never said that,” she whispers.

“You didn’t have to.”

The car drifts slightly before she corrects it, hands tightening on the wheel.

“This is different,” she says again, but there’s less conviction now.

I shake my head. “They’re always different, until they’re not.”

“That’s enough.”

Her voice is sharp—sharper than I expected.

My body reacts before my brain does. I flinch, just a little.

But it’s enough, she notices. Of course she notices.

“I didn’t mean…” she starts, her voice breaking. “I’m not…”

I press myself closer to the door, eyes fixed outside. “Just drive.”

A long pause.

“Marcus is a better man, you know him. He would always let you come over to play with Jace.”

I exhale through my mouth.

“That's the thing mom, I knew him and then all of a sudden after ten years, he pops back up and here you are marrying your neighbor from ten years ago… I think your taste in men needs to be inspected.”

“Watch your tone young lady.”

Then, softer this time, almost like she’s talking to herself.

“He’s not him.”

I swallow hard. My reflection in the window looks smaller than I feel.

“You don’t know that,” I say. This time, she doesn’t argue. The road keeps going.

My hands curled into a fist, it's been so long since I last saw them. Would they even still remember me?

Especially with the new status, Jace is now my step brother and what does that make Asher and Kai, my step cousins?

God!!! Why does everything have to be so complicated?

The air changes, it smells fresher, cleaner. Too clean and almost sweet. We pass by Mansions, white gates, clean cars, clean streets… quiet streets. Maybe too quiet, even for them.

Pretentious, righteous, wealthy, spoiled brats. I hissed in my mind.

“Welcome to Blackridge.” Mom says with a smile, I roll my eyes.

“We're here.” She adds.

The gates swing open, automatically, black gates. 

The driveway to the mansion is long, the scent of rose flowers fills the atmosphere.

A fountain sits right in front of the mansion, a statue of a baby angel aiming an arrow. Water springing from its mouth.

The car stops at the front, I step out. Even the wind carries a slow and controlled motion. Two wolf statues settle at the step leading up to the door.

Black, mouth open and their eyes had something flickered in them… life. A cold chill crawled up my spine. Creepy.

The door opens, a bald man in a beige top and ash trousers walks out. A soft smile formed across his face.

Mom jogs forward, they embrace and their lips touch, passionately. Marcus, definitely.

I pull out the box from the back, their attention shifts back to me.

“Chloe, right?” Marcus asks, gesturing for a hand shake, I nod. Taking the hand.

“You've grown really well… differently than I expected.” I force a smile.

“Well I can't look exactly the same from ten years ago, things change, you and my mother the most.”

“Chloe.” Mom grunts my name. Marcus chuckles softly—too soft for the size of him. Calm in a way that doesn’t shift, doesn’t crack. His hand slips into his pocket like it lives there.

“Well,” he directs his hand towards the door.

“Let's go in, you ladies must be tired.” At least he reasons.

I take a step.

“Your carriage, miss.” A man steps, nearly fifty years. He wore a tuxedo with a red coat.

I shake my head.

“I can handle myself, thank you.” I take another step, he pulls the box back. I pull back, our glare clashes. I grunt, pulling back.

“Chloe.” Marcus calls my name.

“He can handle it.” He says.

I slowly release my grip, after meeting my mother's intense glare from behind. I climb up the steps, past those creepy statues. Right before I step inside the hairs on my skin stands.

Alerted, then I felt it– eyes on my skin. My head snapped backwards, the view was clear. Too clear.

I shrug my head, it's nothing.

I walked into the mansion and my steps slowed.

Polished floors. Marble, I think. The kind that reflects everything back at you, warped and distant. A chandelier hangs above, dripping light like it’s melting.

And the walls, my chest tightens slightly.Paintings,

wolves, Not the soft, storybook kind. These are sharp, eyes too real. Teeth half-bared, like they’re caught between warning and attack.

Then, right beside one, an angel. White wings stretched wide, face calm, untouched. Almost glowing.

“...collected them over the years…”

I blink, realizing Marcus is still talking. I didn’t hear a word.

My fingers brush against the wall as I walk, like I need to make sure it’s real. Everything feels too… perfect. Too controlled, like him.

“Do you like it?” Mom asks.

I shrug, not looking at her. “It’s a house.”

Marcus chuckles softly, I don’t look at him.

“Come,” he says. “Let me show you your room.”

I hesitate for half a second before following.

The staircase curves upward, smooth and wide, like it was built for people who don’t rush. My shoes barely make a sound against it.

More paintings line the walls. More wolves, more angels. Quite the obsession. Up here, they’re closer together.

Watching, guarding. Almost judging. I can’t tell. We stop in front of a door.

“This is yours.”

He opens it and for a second, everything tilts.

The room is too big and bright.

A bed that looks like it belongs in a hotel. Floor-to-ceiling windows spilling light across polished wood. Shelves, a desk, a balcony…A balcony.

My chest tightens like I forgot how to breathe.

I step inside slowly, like I’m not supposed to be here. Like someone’s going to stop me.

“Thought you might like the view,” Marcus says.

I nod quickly, forcing my face to stay flat. “Yeah. It’s… fine.”

Fine.

My fingers curl slightly at my sides to stop them from shaking. Fine doesn’t have ceilings this high.

Fine doesn’t have air that smells clean. Fine doesn’t feel like this.

I walk further in, pretending I’m just looking around, not trying to take everything in at once.

Don’t react, don’t give them that.

“I can change anything you don’t like,” he adds.

I shake my head. “It’s okay.”

It’s more than okay. That’s the problem.

I turn toward the window before anyone can see my face. The world outside stretches wide and quiet, for the first time since we got here, I don’t feel trapped.

That scares me more than anything.

“I guess we'll leave you to it.” Mom whispers behind me.

I nod, without looking back. Their departing footsteps echoes in my head.

“Wait.” I spoke.

They turn back, “what is it honey?” My mom asks.

I swallowed, “Uhmm… I wanted to ask, where are they, Jace?”

“Oh.” Marcus breathed.

“The boys, they went for a swim.” 

My gaze shifted to the pool outside and then back to him.

“‘Swim'?” He nods in approval.

“Yeah, they like a little nature… they'll soon be back.” 

I jerk my head back.

“They live here too?” What the hell? Of course they do? It's their house.

Before Marcus could reply, a car engine roars outside.

“Oh, that must be them.” So soon.

I press my finger nails to my palm. Marcus and Mom move out, I don't. I stood there, then slowly I moved back to the window.

I glanced down, and there they are.

The three good things from my childhood, none of them sights me… except one.

Jace Blackwell