CHAPTER 7

WINTER

The drive to the restaurant is heavy with silence, the atmosphere tense as Zion and I sit in the backseat, pointedly avoiding each other’s gaze. My thoughts keep drifting back to last night. Even though he was drunk, there was a flicker in his eyes—an emotion I couldn’t quite identify, but it wasn’t hate. The memory of his body pressed against mine lingers vividly, occupying my mind throughout the night.

I try to convince myself it doesn’t matter, especially since he spent the night with someone else.

Once upon a time, Zion was kind and my best friend, but now he's a stranger shrouded in hostility. Last night, when he was drunk, there was a fleeting glimpse of the boy I used to know, but today, he's returned to his brooding, distant self.

Upon arriving and settling at our table, Dad immediately pulls out his phone, his attention fixed on the screen. His oblivion to Jenny’s mounting frustration is almost amusing.

“So, Winter,” Jenny finally looks at me, her tone warm but laced with concern, “are you excited about starting your part-time job?”

I offer a hesitant smile, trying to mask my nervousness. “Uh… yeah.”

Dad’s face hardens with subtle hostility.

“Excited? Seriously? A waitress job is nothing to get excited about. It’s a disgrace. Do you even care about my reputation, or are you just determined to tarnish it?”

Jenny frowns at Dad. “William, a job is a job. It’s not worth getting worked up over.”

Jenny’s eyes then turn to Zion, who offers nothing more than a disinterested stare.

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure,” Jenny says reassuringly. “Everyone there is nice. Isn’t that right, Zion?”

Zion's stony silence only heightens my discomfort. He shoots me a resentful look but remains silent.

“Zion?” Jenny presses, her voice firm.

“The boss is a dick,” Zion muttered, his tone dripping with disinterest.

He then sneered, “But then again, Snowflake might fit right in.”

I turned to him, confusion and frustration flaring. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped, unable to hide my irritation.

“Zion, don’t,” Jenny interjected sharply, but Dad was too engrossed in his phone to notice.

"Whatever" he replied, fed up.

The waiter came over to take our breakfast orders, and Dad looked genuinely surprised when Jenny nudged him to speak up. He scanned the menu before ordering the most straightforward items—pancakes and bacon. He scowled when asked if he wanted anything else.

Dad kept glancing at his watch, his impatience evident as he seemed to wish he were anywhere but here. Zion slouched in his seat, looking like he was being forced into a punishment.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this, Jenny. I’ve got a hundred things to handle and now I’m stuck at this family breakfast!” Dad grumbled, his irritation clear.

“Wow, for once, I agree with step-daddy,” Zion chimed in a mocking tone.

His gaze wandered over to a pretty waitress who was passing by, and his eyes roved appreciatively over her figure.

“But who knows… maybe this breakfast isn’t such a bad idea after all,” he said, his tone dripping with innuendo as he continued to eye the waitress.

Jenny,  oblivious to Zion, tried to ease the tension. “Let’s just enjoy the meal. We’re all so busy during the week.”

Dad’s frustration boiled over as he checked his watch for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Jenny, I can’t believe you dragged me into this,” he snapped, his voice sharp. “I have a million things to do today, and here I am, wasting time on this pointless family breakfast.”

Jenny’s face turned a shade of pale as she looked down at her plate, clearly stung by his words.

“Not everyone has the luxury of wasting their day,” Dad continued, his tone dripping with disdain.

“Some of us have important matters to attend to, unlike you, who seems to think this breakfast is the pinnacle of your responsibilities.”

The tension at the table was palpable. Dad’s anger was directed at Jenny, but it left everyone feeling uneasy.

I could feel the tension simmering from Zion as my dad’s words cut through the air. His silence speaks volumes—there’s a storm of disapproval brewing beneath his calm exterior, but he’s holding it in, at least for now.

Dad’s phone rings, and without a word, he answers it and storms out of the restaurant, clearly irritated.

Jenny, her eyes following Dad’s retreating figure, leans closer to me and whispers,

“I’m going to use the bathroom before the food gets here.” Her voice is strained, reflecting the awkwardness of the situation.

“Well, this is just fuc*ing perfect,” Zion grumbled, slicing through the uncomfortable silence.

“Yeah,” I replied with a sigh, but his icy glare made me quickly avert my eyes.

I couldn’t understand the depth of his hatred toward me.

There was a time when we were inseparable, best friends who shared everything. Now, that version of Zion seemed like a distant memory, replaced by someone cold and hostile.

ZION

As I sat there, resentment simmered beneath the surface. Winter seemed so effortlessly at ease as if she had every right to be part of this charade.

It was infuriating, especially knowing the role she played in tearing apart my life. Her deceit had shattered my family, ending my parents' marriage and leaving a void that could never be filled. She had no business enjoying the lavish breakfast or sipping the wine—it was all too much for me to bear.

The idea of her being here, living under the same roof and invading my space every day, was unbearable. I’d managed to tolerate her occasional weekend visits since our parents married, but now that she was here full-time, things were different. If she planned to stick around, she’d soon find out what it meant to cross me. I’d make sure she regretted it deeply, driving her back to her old life, humiliated and shattered.

Her lies had driven my father to his grave, and her dad had swooped in to fill the void, pretending to be my mother’s saviour. It was clear to me that he had only married her for her wealth—he was nothing more than a gold digger.

But I was the rightful heir to Royal Enterprises, not him. He was merely the caretaker until I turned 21.

Winter, with her innocent façade, seemed so naive. Once, we had been friends, but that felt like a lifetime ago. Her father may have wormed his way into my mother's life, but I was determined that she would never find her way back into mine. Stepsister or not, she was dead to me. The night she lied, she sealed her fate.