Chapter 2

I admired the fact that everyone acted as if I was the black sheep of the family. I stood in the corridor, staring at them as they laughed and giggled softly, my mom rolling her curvy hips in my stepfather's body. Their romantic life disgusts me.

I watched her leave the living room, strutting into the kitchen like she was royalty. I couldn’t help but smirk, a small victory at how she never seemed to notice the storm of emotions I had brewing inside me. I wasn’t going to waste a smile on her. I had no intention of making her feel better. She wasn’t the star of this show. I was.

Yeah, my mom married that pathetic excuse of a man. And somehow, Derek—his son—was now going to be part of the deal. Sure, I’d known him my whole life, but the way he looked at me now… that was something different. He wasn’t just a kid anymore. He was tall, dark, handsome—and clueless. But that wouldn’t last long. No, not with me around.

"Hey, are you not going to join us for dinner?"

Derek's voice broke through my thoughts, and I turned to see him sitting at the table, waving at me. His face was all sweetness, that boyish charm that was so easy to fall for. I couldn’t let him think I was some shy, innocent girl though.

I lifted my chin, returning the smile with a confident smirk.

"Yes, I’ll join you.”

“Let me grab the dishes from the kitchen,” I replied, my voice soft, almost intimate—laced with an unspoken promise. My heart raced with the possibilities. He had no idea what I had in mind.

I moved toward the kitchen, my thoughts on him, on how to make my move. The sound of my mom’s voice carried through the house as I stepped inside. She and Mark were in there, of course. Laughing, chatting about some trivial nonsense that barely registered to me.

It was always the same. She’d talk to him, pretend like everything was perfect, like this new life she’d created with him was something to be proud of. She didn’t even realize how suffocating it all felt. How pointless it all was.

"Silvia, are you coming to help?" My mom’s voice yanked me from my thoughts.

I looked up, momentarily surprised. "Help? Yeah, sure," I answered, feigning enthusiasm. "I’ll dish out the food."

Her face lit up in disbelief, her wide eyes never failing to remind me of how little she knew about me. She was so used to me being distant, always a little too wrapped up in myself, always a little too… dramatic. But for once, I had something else in mind.

"You want to help?" she asked, blinking at me like I’d just sprouted a second head. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes inside. Of course she’d be shocked. I wasn’t exactly the domestic type.

"Yeah, I’ll help," I repeated, giving her a nonchalant shrug, though inside, my nerves were buzzing. I was doing this for one reason only—Derek. That’s all that mattered now. The rest was just background noise.

My mom hesitated for a moment, still stunned by my sudden willingness, but then she waved me off. "Okay, well, there’s the soup," she said, gesturing to the steaming pot on the stove. "Just… just be careful. Don't burn yourself."

Sure, Mom. Like I needed a lesson in basic kitchen skills. I made my way to the counter, ladling some of the hot soup into the bowls with a practiced hand, ignoring her faintly concerned gaze. But it wasn’t my mom I was focused on.

No, I was thinking about Derek, about the way his smile made me feel when he looked at me. My thoughts drifted to the idea of him sitting at the table, waiting for me, wanting me. I almost didn’t notice the first splatter of soup spill onto the counter.

Then, I heard my name. "Silvia?"

The voice was soft, too familiar, and instantly my mood soured. It was my cousin Abigail. Of course, it was her. Why wouldn’t it be?

I didn’t need to turn around to know she was standing at the entrance of the kitchen, that too-perfect face of hers peeking through the doorway. Her presence was like a chill running down my spine. She always knew how to ruin everything.

I kept my back to her, fighting the urge to snap. I didn’t have the time or the patience to deal with her right now. "What do you want, Abigail?" I managed, the words slipping out with a forced calmness.

"Just wanted to see if you were okay," she said in that syrupy sweet tone she always used. Always concerned, always playing the part of the perfect daughter, perfect cousin. "Are you sure you’re not overdoing it with the soup?"

I cursed under my breath, still ladling, but my hand trembled slightly. I had to focus. I couldn't let her mess with me. I just had to get through this. I’d make Derek notice me, and then I could get rid of Abigail and her annoying perfectness.

But as I poured soup into the bowls, I caught the edge of her voice again, rising above everything else.

"Mom says you’ve been acting differently lately," she continued, her tone almost too innocent. "Is everything okay?"

I nearly dropped the ladle. Acting different? What the hell did that mean? Was she trying to provoke me? Or was it just a passive-aggressive attempt to make me feel like I was doing something wrong? I felt my teeth grind together.

"I’m fine, Abigail," I snapped, my voice low and icy. I turned, finally meeting her eyes, hoping to make her feel small. "You don’t need to check up on me."

She didn’t flinch, of course. She just stood there, looking at me with that infuriating calmness. "Well, I’m just concerned. You’ve been so… distant."

"Yeah, well, I’m just fine, alright?" My voice rose without me meaning it to. I quickly focused on the task again, ladling soup into Derek’s bowl without thinking.

That’s when it happened. I wasn’t paying attention to the ladle, too caught up in Abigail’s irritating presence, and before I knew it, a generous splash of hot soup poured straight into Derek’s bowl. Not just a small spill—no, the entire ladleful.

I froze.

"Damn it!" I muttered under my breath. "I messed it up."

"Derek won’t mind," Abigail said, stepping into the kitchen with that glimmer of smugness in her eyes. She always had to be the perfect one, didn’t she? Always right, always in control. I could already hear her making her way to Derek, probably planning to give him the sympathetic cousin act, the one where she offered to “fix” everything I’d ruined.

But I wasn’t about to let that happen. Not when I was so close.

I shot her a glare. "Just stay out of it," I spat, trying to keep my voice low enough so Derek wouldn’t hear. I turned to place the overflowing bowl on the counter, focusing hard on controlling my breath.

Abigail raised an eyebrow, watching me carefully, sensing the tension in the air. "You’re really not acting like yourself, Silvia. You know that, right?"

God, she was such a little spy.

"Mind your business, Abigail," I hissed. "This is my problem, not yours."

Before she could answer, I heard Derek’s voice from the dining room, soft but clear.

"Is everything okay in there?"

I took a breath, calming myself for a second before answering. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” My voice had the right amount of sweetness, even if my heart was pounding. I grabbed another bowl, trying to fix my mistake. I couldn’t let him see how out of control I was feeling. I didn’t need to give Abigail any more ammunition.

The last thing I wanted was for Derek to think I was some kind of mess.

As I finished dishing the soup, I turned back toward the table where Derek waited, his smile waiting for me to join him.

The more he keeps staring at me, the more I fall deeply in love with him. I want to have him on my bed by all means.