My Stepbrothers' Seduction

Violet’s pov

I stared at the photo again. My mum's arms were wrapped tightly around a man I had once met when my dad was alive. She was grinning like a teenager, her cheek pressed against his as if she couldn’t be happier. His hand rested on her waist like they had known each other forever. The caption below it?

“Can’t wait to blend our families. Love you, Kingsley.” I blinked. Blend our families? Families? Since when? And why was I just finding out now?

While still sitting on the couch in the morning, my mum walked into the sitting room. She first stood at the doorpost, as I slowly placed the screen of her phone against my laps. I didn't want her to feel I was vying into her privacy since she had put a password on her phone. A password I have long known. She stepped in and threw these words as if we were out of milk.

“Surprise! We’re moving in with Kingsley today. He’s got two sons around your age. You’ll love them. You have always wanted to have brothers when you were a little girl. Kingsley’s sons would be your perfect step brothers.”

Just like that. Like it was no big deal. Like I could just fold up my old life and carry it in my pocket.

No warning. No proper conversation. Just a sunny smile and an announcement that would flip everything upside down.

Now, several hours later, I sat stiffly in the front seat of my mum's car. My arms folded tightly, my backpack wedged between my legs and the dashboard. Boxes surrounded me like a barricade. I didn’t say a word.

Outside, the scenery changed from grey streets to posh suburbia. The kind of place with symmetrical hedges, driveways bigger than our old flat, and houses that looked like they were built just for show.

It didn’t feel like a fresh start. It felt like we were trespassing. I stole a glance at Mum.

She was humming to herself, tapping the steering wheel gently with her fingers. Her lipstick was perfect. Her hair freshly curled.

She looked… happy. Genuinely happy. I clenched my jaw. She was always like this at the start, like everything was finally falling into place. Until it didn’t.

We had moved twice into the houses of her boyfriends in the past two years, each time for a man she swore would be “the one.” They came and went, all charm and promises at first, but they never lasted. And when things fell apart, so did she, taking me down with her. I didn’t want to go through it again.

I didn’t want to learn new names, pretend to be okay, or unpack in another stranger’s house and yet, here we were. Mum slowed the car and turned onto a fresh driveway in front of a house so perfect it could’ve been printed from a magazine. White bricks, glassy windows, a neat garden without a single flower out of place. It wasn’t ours.

“Well,” Mum said brightly, her smile stretched too wide, “here we are!”

I stayed quiet. She reached for my hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “It’s going to be great, Kath. You’ll see. This will be different.”

“You said that the last time,” I muttered.

She quickly shrinked. But didn’t respond. I stared at the house, refusing to budge. The front door opened, and out came a tall man with streaks of grey in his hair and a cologne-clouded aura. Kingsley.

He was grinning like a man who believed this would work.

“Darling!” he called, wrapping Mum in a hug before planting a kiss on her cheek. “You made it.”

I looked away.

“And this must be Violet.” His gaze turned to me.

I stepped out slowly, dragging my backpack with me like a shield. He extended his hand. “Kingsley. I’ve heard so much about you.”

I took it reluctantly. “Hi.”

“Strong grip!” he chuckled. “Come in, come in. The boys are waiting.”

The boys. My new “brothers.” Two figures stood inside the hallway. The first one looked like he’d just walked out of a school brochure. He was tall, polished, blazer ironed within an inch of its life. His hair was carefully parted, and his expression was a bit cold.

“Richard,” Kingsley said proudly. The second was different, messy hair tied back loosely, dark eyes that danced with something I couldn’t place, and a T-shirt that clung to broad shoulders.

“Michael,” Kingsley added.

“Hey,” Michael said, grinning. “Welcome to the madhouse.”

“Madhouse?” I said inside of me at once.

“Let’s get the bags in, then dinner!” Kingsley clapped. “I booked a table at The Lavender Lounge. Very posh.”

Mum beamed. “Ooh, I’ve always wanted to go there.”

I rolled my eyes. Everything with her was temporary glitter. Kingsley turned to the boys. “Give Violet a hand with her things?”

Richard nodded stiffly. Michael followed with ease, grabbing a suitcase without being asked.

“Which one’s yours?” Richard asked, his tone was flat. I pointed to the heavier case. He took it with visible effort, like he was being punished.

Michael chuckled and hoisted the other with one hand. “You pack bricks or books in here?”

“Both,” I muttered.

He laughed again. “Your room’s next to mine.”

I raised a brow. “You live here full-time?”

“On and off,” he said.

The hallway smelled like lemon polish. Family photos lined the wall, none of which I was in. It was painfully clear we were the intruders. Upstairs, Michael opened a door. “You’re in here.”

The room was spotless. Beige walls, a queen-sized bed, framed art of a beach and seashells. Like something off a hotel booking site.

“This looks like a guest room,” I said before I could stop myself.

Richard raised a brow.

“But, um, a nice one,” I added quickly.

Michael laughed. “You’ll fit right in.”

I doubted that.

“Bathroom’s down the hall,” he added. “We’ve got like three, in case you’re picky.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

“Dinner’s at seven. Be ready by four. Dad’s weird about time,” he said with a smirk.

“Four?” I asked.

“We’re all getting ready together. Mum’s idea,” he said, walking off.

I dropped my bag on the bed, glanced at the room again, then made my way to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I stared at my reflection. My eyes looked dull. My cheeks were too pale and my heart too heavy.

“This isn’t home,” I whispered to myself.

I gripped the edge of the sink, trying to breathe. Everything felt wrong. Like I was wearing someone else’s clothes. Like I’d been planted in a life that didn’t belong to me. Then a loud knock broke the silence.

“Hey, princess,” Michael’s voice called. “Don’t hog the mirror too long.”

Princess? Was that sarcasm or teasing? Either way, I hated it. I pressed my forehead against the door and closed my eyes. It was day one and I was already counting the days until I could leave.