Chapter 3

After that, Peter Jude went back to his normal self—or at least, it appeared that way. His face was cold as usual, and he was busy with work, darting from one thing to the next. He even stopped coming home to the mansion for a while.

That was until my mom and stepdad returned.

They came back with a haul of expensive gifts, looking travel-worn and tired. Mom, in particular, seemed exhausted. Mr. Harris, on the other hand, was in a great mood, happily chatting and even calling Peter back to join us.

When Peter arrived, he sat down next to me on the couch, closer than necessary.

I instinctively tried to move away, but then I heard Mom say, "I'm glad to see you two getting along so well. That really puts me at ease."

I froze in place, forced to sit there beside Peter while Mr. Harris talked enthusiastically about their trip. His stories dragged on, and as he went on, something in me started to feel wrong. It was like an ant crawling under my skin, making its way deeper, causing my entire body to tense up. I glanced over at Peter and saw my flushed reflection in his eyes.

He leaned in, whispering so only I could hear, “You don’t want Nancy to know just how close we’ve gotten, do you?”

He was right. We had gotten too close.

I squirmed uncomfortably, trying to keep my composure while Mr. Harris continued talking endlessly. Another metaphorical ant joined the first, tormenting me further as they burrowed deeper. My mind raced as I wished I hadn’t worn a skirt today.

By the time Mr. Harris had finally stopped, I wasn’t sure how I’d managed to endure it all, biting down hard on my lower lip to keep myself from losing it. When I came back to my senses, the living room had emptied, leaving only Peter and me.

Peter looked far too pleased with himself.

I quickly stood up, my legs weak and unsteady. As I did, I noticed the mark we had left on the couch, and I wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ground.

“Peter Jude!” I snapped.

“Where are your manners?” he said coolly, adjusting his tie with the calm precision of a predator who had just cornered its prey. “Why aren’t you calling me ‘brother’ anymore?”

I glared at him. “We agreed we’d leave each other alone after this.”

His expression grew darker. “I don’t think my dear sister understands one thing. I will keep violating you, and what can you do about it?”

He emphasized the word violate with a chilling intensity, stepping closer to me with the intimacy of a lover.

“For so many years, countless women have tried to climb their way into this family. Do you know why my father is still single? What chance does your mom really have?”

I continued backing away, like a cornered animal with no escape.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, my voice trembling.

He stopped, finally halting his approach. “Be my plaything, and I’ll convince my father to accept your mom.”

At that moment, I fully understood the weight of power and control that came from someone who’d held the upper hand for so long. He wasn’t looking at me with love—just pure, unfiltered desire and the certainty that he would have whatever he wanted.

I had been wrong. I thought, at the very least, he had some feelings for me. But now, I realized it was just lust, nothing more.

Peter didn’t wait for my response. Instead, he turned his gaze past me and smiled, his expression suddenly softening.

“Hello, Nancy.”

Startled, I spun around. My mom was walking down the stairs, her face lighting up as she saw Peter. She seemed genuinely happy that he had greeted her and started chatting with him warmly.

I knew then that there was no need for any more words.

That night, I anticipated something would happen, but I was still caught off guard when my door was unlocked and opened.

—Mom’s room was right next to mine.

“Are you crazy?” I asked coldly.

Peter’s face remained calm, his voice steady. “No choice. If the mountain won’t come to me, I’ll go to the mountain.”

He smirked at me, standing there in my nightgown, and tossed something onto the bed.