All Chapters of The Scandalous Step Siblings: First Enemies, Then Lovers : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Anya’s povI hesitated. I couldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t tell him that he looked cornered, like a trapped animal. I couldn’t tell him that I hate bullies, or that watching him flinch made something painful twist deep in my chest.“Because it was my job,” I said instead. It felt like a safe answer.He didn’t look like he believed me at all. “Your job,” he repeated. “Right.”He leaned back against the hard wall, rolling his shoulders to try and get rid of the tension. The movement made his jacket pull tight across his chest, and my eyes dropped to look at him before I could stop myself. I hated my eyes for being so traitorous.“Next time,” he said, “don’t.”“Next time,” I shot back, “stand farther back from the crazy people.”That actually made him let out a short, surprised sound of laughter. The sound hit me deep in my stomach and made me feel dizzy. He went still, looking like he hadn’t expected to laugh either.“Careful,” he said softly. “You’re getting mouthy again, Critic

Anya’s POVThe silence after a crash is not actually quiet, but rather a loud, heavy buzz that stays trapped inside your head while your brain tries to understand why the world stopped moving so fast.I was squeezed into a tiny, painful gap between the kitchen counter and the floor, feeling my shoulder burn with a deep, steady ache that throbbed every time my heart beat.The bus was tilted at a scary angle as it leaned sideways into the ditch, and every few seconds the metal frame made a long, low groaning sound, almost as if the vehicle was tired of holding its own weight. Outside, the world was a black void where the only thing I could see was the orange flash of a hazard light reflecting off the endless, white snow.“Anya.”The voice was scratchy and weak, sounding like dry leaves blowing across a stone floor. I blinked several times to clear the fog from my eyes and saw Kai a few feet away, though because the bus was leaning, he was actually higher up than me.He was slumped again

Anya’s POVThe hospital in Des Moines smelled of lemon-scented bleach and suppressed screams.I sat in a plastic chair that was designed to discourage anyone from ever getting comfortable.My shoulder had been taped up, and I was draped in a borrowed oversized hoodie that smelled like the "lost and found" bin, but my mind was elsewhere.Specifically, two doors down, where Kai Rhodes was being poked and prodded by specialists who cost more per hour than my father’s first apartment.The "A.S." journal was at the bottom of a ditch in a pile of twisted metal. But the page... the page was with him."You look like you're planning a heist," a voice smooth as expensive bourbon interrupted.I looked up.Ethan Cole was standing there, looking remarkably unruffled for a man whose star client had just been scraped out of a bus. His suit was crisp, his hair—that dark, perfectly-styled hair—didn't have a single strand out of place."I'm considering it," I said, my voice sharp. "Where is he?""In ra

Anya’s POVThe Chicago Theatre was like a giant cave made of gold and red velvet. It was the kind of place that smelled like old dust and expensive perfume, making you feel small just by standing in the lobby. But backstage, the beauty disappeared. It was a messy world of heavy black boxes, tangled cables, and people running in every direction. The air was heavy with the smell of hairspray and that sharp, sour scent of nervous sweat that always comes before a big show.Kai was locked away in his dressing room with Ethan and a therapist. They were trying to wrap his hand with enough tape to let him play three songs without his nerves snapping like dry twigs. It felt like they were trying to fix a broken glass vase with Scotch tape and hoping nobody noticed the cracks.I was standing by a table full of snacks I wasn't hungry for, holding a cup of lukewarm coffee that tasted like burnt beans. I was trying to stop my hands from shaking when a man stepped out of the dark corner near the sta

Anya’s POVThe sound of the window shattering was like a gunshot in a library.Diamonds of tempered glass sprayed across the lounge floor, shimmering in the red glow of the bus's interior accent lights.I flinched, my back hitting the door as Kai instinctively threw his good arm over me, shielding my face with his chest."Stay down," he growled.But I couldn't. Through the jagged hole in the glass, I saw a hand—rough, gloved, and desperate… reaching for the latch.Then, the face. It wasn't the associate. It was a younger man, his eyes wide with a frantic, twitchy energy that screamed of a debt that had gone from financial to terminal."Anya!" the man yelled over the roar of the Chicago wind. "He’s not waiting anymore! Give me the book!"Kai’s grip on my arm tightened until it bruised. He pulled me back, putting himself between me and the window. The power imbalance shifted in a heartbeat; he was no longer the wounded artist, but a man protecting his territory with a quiet, lethal focu