CHAPTER 4: Shattered Illusions

Scarlett's POV

The woman glided into the kitchen as if she owned it, heels clicking on the tile that Cade had just mopped. Up close, she was even more beautiful in that calculated, high-maintenance way that made me acutely aware of my wet tank top and yoga pants. She smelled like expensive perfume, the kind that came in crystal bottles and cost more than a semester of textbooks.

"Madison." Cade's voice was flat, emotionless. "What are you doing here?"

"Is that any way to greet me?" She pouted, glossy lips forming a perfect moue. "I came all this way to see you."

"I didn't ask you to come."

"You didn't answer my calls either." Her eyes slid to me, assessing, dismissive. "And who's this?"

The question hung in the air. I could see Cade struggling with how to answer, jaw working, hands still clenched at his sides.

"I'm Scarlett," I said before he could respond. "Cade's stepsister."

Madison's perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose. "Stepsister? How... modern." The way she said it made it sound dirty. "I didn't know James had remarried."

"Two months ago," Cade bit out. "Not that it's any of your business. Seriously, Madison, what are you doing here?"

She moved closer to him, one manicured hand reaching out to touch his arm. I watched his muscles jump under her fingers, and something hot and ugly twisted in my chest.

"I wanted to talk. We left things so unfinished, baby. You can't just cut me out of your life like that."

"I can, and I did." He stepped back, dislodging her hand. "We broke up six months ago. You need to move on."

"But I don't want to move on." Her voice turned pleading, and I realised with a start that she was actually close to tears. Real tears, not the manipulative kind. "I made a mistake, Cade. I know I did. But we were good together. We could be good again."

The intimacy of the moment made me feel like an intruder. I should have left. Given them privacy to hash out whatever history they had. But my feet wouldn't move. I was rooted to the spot, watching this gorgeous woman beg for a second chance with the man I'd just almost kissed.

The man who was technically my brother.

"Madison” Cade's voice softened slightly, and that was somehow worse than if he'd stayed cold. "What we had is over. It's been over. You need to accept that and move forward."

"Is it because of her?" Madison's gaze swung back to me, sharp and assessing. "Your stepsister?"

"No," Cade said quickly. Too quickly. "Scarlett has nothing to do with this."

"Really? Because the tension in here is so thick I can practically taste it." She crossed her arms, and I noticed the slight tremor in her hands. She wasn't as composed as she was pretending to be. "What exactly did I interrupt?"

"Nothing", I said, finding my voice. "Broken glass. Cade was helping me clean it up."

"Mm." Madison's eyes dropped to my wet shirt, and understanding flashed across her face. "Right. Of course."

The silence that followed was excruciating.

"You should go," Cade said finally. "This isn't appropriate, showing up unannounced."

"I still have a key." She pulled it from her purse, dangling it like a trophy. "You never asked for it back."

"I'm asking now." He held out his hand. "Give me the key, Madison."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I'll have the locks changed." His voice was steel now, all softness gone. "Your choice."

For a moment, I thought she might refuse. Her fingers tightened around the key, knuckles going white. Then, with a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, she slammed it into his palm.

"You're making a mistake," she said. "I was good for you, Cade. I understood you. I accepted your work schedule, your obsession with this business, all of it. You're not going to find someone else who'll put up with your shit as I did."

"Maybe not," he agreed quietly. "But I'd rather be alone than be with someone I don't love."

The words landed like a slap. Madison flinched, and for a second, I saw real pain flash across her face. Then the mask was back, cool and collected.

"Fine." She adjusted her purse on her shoulder, spine straightening. "I hope you're happy, Cade. I really do." Her gaze slid to me one more time, something calculating in her expression. "Both of you."

She turned and walked out, heels clicking, head high. We heard the front door open and close. An engine started. Gravel crunched as she drove away.

And then we were alone again.

Cade stood frozen, staring at the key in his palm like he wasn't sure how it had gotten there. His jaw was tight, a muscle ticking in his cheek that I was learning meant he was barely holding onto control.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly.

"Fine." He set the key on the counter with more force than necessary. "She shouldn't have come here."

"How long were you together?"

"Two years." He dragged a hand through his hair. "She wanted marriage. Kids. The whole package. I couldn't give her that."

"Why not?"

He looked at me then, and the expression in his eyes made my breath catch. "You know why."

"Cade."

"I tried, Scarlett. I really fucking tried to move on. To forget you. To build a life with someone else. Madison was perfect on paper. Beautiful, smart, from the right family. Dad loved her. Everyone loved her."

"But you didn't."

"No." The admission was raw. "I didn't. Because every time I looked at her, I was comparing her to a memory. To a girl I had five years ago who ruined me for anyone else."

The air left my lungs in a rush. "That's not fair."

"None of this is fair." He moved toward me, and I backed up instinctively until I hit the counter. "You want to know why I really ran that summer? Why did I disappear without a word?"

"You said you didn't want to hold me back."

"That was part of it. But the real reason?" He was close now, too close, crowding into my space the way he had before Madison interrupted. "I was falling in love with you, Scarlett. At twenty-one, with a barely legal girl who had her whole life ahead of her. And I was terrified. So I ran."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "You loved me?"

"Love," he corrected, and the present tense made my knees weak. "I love you. I've loved you for five fucking years, through relationships with other women, through building a business, through every single day where I told myself I needed to forget you. And then you walked through that door three days ago, and every defence I'd built came crashing down."

"Cade." His name was a plea, a prayer, a promise.

"Tell me to stop." His hands framed my face, fingers threading into my damp hair. "Tell me you don't feel this too, and I'll walk away. I'll be the stepbrother you need me to be. I'll bury this so deep it'll never surface again."

"I can't."

"Can't what?"

"Can't tell you to stop." My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer. "Can't pretend I don't feel this. Can't lie and say I didn't spend five years thinking about you, dreaming about you, comparing every man I met to a boy who left me without saying goodbye."

His forehead dropped to mine. "We're going to destroy everything."

"I know."

"Our parents will hate us."

"I know."

"This is wrong on every level that matters."

"I know," I whispered. "Kiss me anyway."

For a heartbeat, he hesitated. I could see the war in his eyes, the last shred of restraint battling against five years of wanting.

Then the restraint was lost.

His mouth crashed into mine, and oh God, I remembered this. The taste of him, mint and coffee and something uniquely Cade. The way he kissed like he was trying to consume me, like he'd been starving and I was his first meal in years. His tongue swept into my mouth, claiming, demanding, and I opened for him, giving him everything.

One hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head to the angle he wanted. The other gripped my hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. I didn't care. I wanted his marks on me, evidence that this was real, that I wasn't dreaming.

I pulled him closer, needing to feel his body against mine. He responded by lifting me, setting me on the counter, and stepping between my thighs. And then we were exactly where we'd been before Madison interrupted, except this time there was no stopping.

His mouth moved from my lips to my jaw, down my throat, teeth scraping over my pulse point. I gasped, head falling back, giving him access. His hands slid under my wet tank top, palms rough against my skin, and I arched into the touch.

"Cade," I breathed.

"Say it again."

"Cade."

He groaned against my throat, and the sound went straight through me. His hands moved higher, thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts, and I was burning, aching, desperate for more.

"Please," I whispered.

"Please, what?" His mouth was at my ear now, breath hot against sensitive skin. "Tell me what you want, Scarlett."

"You. I want you."

His hands stilled. He pulled back just enough to look at me, and his eyes were molten, pupils blown wide with desire. "Are you sure? Because if we do this, there's no going back. Everything changes."

"Everything already changed the moment I walked through that door."

He searched my face, looking for doubt, for hesitation. Found none. And whatever he saw there broke the last of his control.

"Upstairs," he growled. "Now."

He lifted me off the counter, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried me like I weighed nothing, mouth never leaving mine, hands gripping me possessively. We made it to the stairs and started climbing.

And then my phone rang.

We froze. The ringtone cut through the haze of desire like a knife. I recognised it immediately.

Mom.

"Don't answer it," Cade said against my lips.

But it was too late. Reality was crashing back in waves. Mom. His dad. The cruise. The family we were about to betray.

"I have to," I whispered.

He set me down slowly, and I could see the frustration, the desire, the conflict warring in his expression. With shaking hands, I pulled my phone from my pocket.

Mom's face filled the screen, video call.

Shit.

I looked at Cade. His hair was messed from my fingers, lips swollen from my kisses, eyes still dark with want. I could only imagine how I looked.

"Answer it," he said quietly. "Before she worries."

I smoothed my hair, tugged my tank top straight, and swiped to accept. Mom's smiling face filled the screen, and behind her, I could see the ocean, sunset painting the sky, and the deck of the cruise ship.

"Hi, honey! Just wanted to check in, see how you two are doing!"

I pasted on a smile, prayed it looked natural. "Hey, Mom. We're fine. How's the cruise?"

"Absolutely wonderful! James took me dancing tonight, and tomorrow we're docking in Barcelona." She squinted at the screen. "Why are you all wet?"

"Spilt water," I said quickly. "Clumsy as always."

"Is Cade there? I want to say hi to both my kids."

My kids. The phrase landed like a punch.

I looked at Cade. He was standing a few feet away, arms crossed, face carefully neutral. But I could see the tension in his shoulders, the white-knuckle grip on his biceps.

"Yeah, he's here." I angled the phone. "Cade, Mom wants to say hi."

He stepped into frame, and somehow he managed to smile. "Hey, Rachel."

"Hi, sweetheart! Are you two getting along? Bonding as I hoped?"

If she only knew.

"Yeah," Cade said, voice steady. "We're getting along great."

"I'm so glad. I was worried it might be awkward, you know, suddenly being siblings. But James always said you were a good kid, and I just knew you two would hit it off." She beamed at us through the screen, oblivious to the tension. "Anyway, I just wanted to check in. We'll call again in a few days. Love you both!"

"Love you too, Mom."

We ended the call, and the silence that followed was deafening.

Cade stared at the blank screen, jaw working. "She called us siblings."

"I know."

"She's so happy."

"I know."

"Scarlett." He finally looked at me, and the expression on his face gutted me. "We can't do this."

"We almost just did."

"Almost doesn't count." He stepped back, putting distance between us. "That phone call was a sign. A reminder of what's at stake."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying we stop. Right now. Before we cross a line we can't uncross." He dragged both hands through his hair, looking tortured. "I meant what I said. I love you. But I love my dad too, and your mom, and their happiness matters."

"And what about our happiness?"

"Our happiness destroys theirs. That's the reality." He was backing toward the door now, like he was afraid that if he stayed close, he'd lose control again. "I'm sorry, Scarlett. I'm so fucking sorry. But we can't."

"Cade, wait…"

"No. If I stay, I'll do something we'll both regret." He reached the door, hand on the knob. "I need to go. Clear my head. Figure out how to be around you without wanting to touch you."

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know. Somewhere far from here." He opened the door, paused. "Lock up behind me. I'll be back late."

"Cade."

"Please, Scarlett. Let me go."

And then he was gone. I heard his truck start in the garage, the growl of the engine fading as he drove away. Leaving me alone in this massive house with swollen lips and an aching heart and the terrible knowledge that he was right.

We couldn't do this.

But God, I wanted to.

I sank onto the stairs, head in my hands, and let myself feel it. All the anger, the frustration, the desperate wanting. The phone in my hand buzzed. A text.

Unknown number.

My blood went cold as I read it.

I know what you two almost did. And I wonder... would Rachel want to know her daughter is trying to fuck her stepson? Maybe I should tell her. Unless you can give me a reason not to.

Below the text was a photo. Grainy, taken through a window, but unmistakable. Cade and me in the kitchen. His hands are on my waist. My legs wrapped around him. Kissing like the world was ending.

Madison.

My hands shook as I stared at the screen. She'd been here. Watching. Waiting. And now she had evidence that could destroy everything.

The phone buzzed again.

We need to talk. Tomorrow. I'll text you where. Come alone, or Rachel gets an interesting email. Your choice, little sister.

The screen went dark.

And I realised that our problems had just gotten so much worse than forbidden desire.

Someone knew.

And she wanted something.