Chapter Two

A month later.

A persistent knock on the door had me cursing under my breath as I pulled the thick duvet over my head.

Whoever it was at the door was persistent as shit since I’d been under my sheets for the past thirty minutes, wishing they would just get tired and fuck off.

The sound was ruining my idea of a peaceful and quiet morning, and I finally decided to answer the door and get over with it.

I walked downstairs, kicking empty bottles of beer and half eaten boxes of pizza on my way till I got to the front door.

“What the fuck do you….” I started as I threw the door open, but the rest of the words died in my mouth when I saw who it was. “Aunty Carrie!”

“Sophia darling,” she looked like she was trying hard to hold the smile on her face as she took in my appearance.

I looked like a drag standing next to my mother’s best friend. H⁶er foreign fur coat, expensive dress, and perfectly done makeup only highlighting my own state of disarray.

She scrunched up her nose distastefully as she took in my appearance.

I didn’t blame her. I hadn’t taken my bath in three days. Or was it five? My hair was a bird’s nest, but it was a whole party at the back.

“Sophia…..” she whispered softly and pulled me into her embrace.

I felt a lump form in my throat as she enveloped me in a warm embrace. The familiar scent of her perfume and the comfort of her presence cracked open the dam of emotions I'd been trying to keep at bay.

“That’s okay, sweetie. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be here for you,” she cried with me.

My body shook tremendously as sobs raked through my being, and after a very long time, I was finally calm.

When we pulled away, Aunt Carrie’s eyes were just as puffy and red as mine.

Her eyes scanned the living room– or what had become of it with dirty clothes flung all over the place, a pair of sock hanging on the chandelier, used dishes and food boxes strewn all over– her expression a mix of sadness and concern.

“You can’t continue living like this, Soph,” she said as she led me to the only couch that wasn’t buried in clothes. “I couldn’t come earlier with the fashion week coming up, but I’m here now, and we’re going to fix this.”

“What do you mean?” I asked her, sensing her unspoken words.

"I've arranged for you to live with your step-uncle," she continued. "He's willing to take you in and provide for you.”

“What?” I sprang up from my seat like my butt was on fire.

My mother’s step brother?

The same man that had never acknowledged us as family? The same man I didn’t even know what he looked like because I’d seen him only once when I was what…4?

The same man that couldn’t even care to reach out to me after my mother’s death?

My mother’s only family yet he was nothing but a perfect stranger.

That same step uncle?

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I laughed mirthlessly.

“Soph….” Aunt Carrie stood up and took my hand. “You can’t keep living here. Like this. Your mother must be turning in her grave to see you in this state,” she said, and my lips quivered.

I shook my head, feeling a wave of panic wash over me. "I don't want to go," I protested.

Aunt Carrie's expression was firm but gentle. "I know it's hard since you barely know him….”

“Barely? I don’t know him!”

“….but this is what's best for you. You'll have a stable home and a chance to start anew." She spoke over my voice.

“I don’t want to go!”

“I can’t leave you alone here. Not anymore,” she said.

“Then take me with you,” I turned to her hopefully.

“You know I can’t. I travel a lot and you’ll never be settled. Look,” she added after a small pause. “This is what your mother must have wanted. For you to live with her only family. Even though their relationship was strained, I’m sure she wouldn’t want you anywhere else. You’ll live comfortably with him, and I can be at peace with myself.”

Slowly, her words seeped into the cracks of grief and loneliness in my heart, and I felt my resolve crumbling. Maybe this was what I needed – a fresh start, a chance to leave the past behind.

"Okay," I whispered finally, feeling a sense of resignation wash over me.

Aunt Carrie's face lit up with a warm smile. "That's my brave girl," she said, squeezing my hand. "You'll be happy you did this, Sophia. I promise. Ouuu, before I forget,” she dipped her hand into her birkin bag and pulled out a wrapped gift. “Happy nineteenth birthday, baby.”

That conversation was the reason I was standing in front of a majestic house about five hours from where I knew home to be, two days later.

The building looked like something straight out of a high-class movie, and I couldn’t wrap my head around how exotic it was.

As I approach the entrance, I was greeted by a majestic fountain and a sweeping driveway lined with manicured hedges and ornate lanterns.

“Miss Brooke. Welcome. I’m Jacob, the household’s butler,” the middle-aged man greeted.

A freaking butler?

I gave him a polite nod, and he took my suitcase from me and led me into the house.

It would probably take about two people to lift my jaw from the ground, as I looked at the interior of the house. I was enveloped in a spacious foyer with a soaring ceiling, polished marble floors, and a show-stopping chandelier. The interior design was a perfect blend of modern elegance and classic charm, with lavish materials, rich textures, and impeccable attention to detail.

I hadn’t grown up poor by any means, but this was luxury at its peak.

“Miss Brooke,” an elderly woman doned in a long apron, approached me with a kind smile. “Welcome.”

“Hi,” I greeted, still stunned by my surroundings.

“I’m Adaline, the house manager. Once you’re well rested, I’ll give you a tour around the house. Or most of it at least,” she smiled warmly. “Right now, I’ll show you up to your room.”

My mind was still reeling as I climbed the spiraling staircase that looked like it was made of pure gold. I didn’t know anything about this step uncle of mine, but one thing was sure in the three minutes I’ve been here. He was wealthy in fucking capital letter!

“Not that way!” Adaline’s voice stopped me from going any further.

“Why?” I asked, noticing the edge in her tone.

“That wing is out of bounds. Your room is right this way,” she pointed in the opposite direction, and even as she led me to my room, I couldn’t take my eyes off that hallway with lingering questions in my head.

“Where’s my….uncle?” I asked when she stopped in front of a door.

“He’ll send for you. Your dinner will be sent up soon,” she smiled and walked away.

I shrugged and went into the room, and it had a private balcony!

I bounced on the fluffy bed that felt like clouds, and I couldn’t help but think this was all too good to be true.

And most times, when something seems too good to be true, it is.