My Stepbrother (Secret-Possession)

Prologue

Nervously tapping on my black Adidas trainers, I blocked out the surrounding noise by blasting Bruno Mars at full volume through my white earphones, paying no attention to the pestering kids behind me. Finally, the boarding announcement came over the public address system, instructing travellers to proceed to the departure gate and board the plane. Hastily, I sent a text message to my mum, informing her I was about to board. With a surge of energy, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and stood up, making my way to the designated area.

This was my first time flying alone, and it was quite unusual for my mum to allow me to travel across the country, let alone the continent, for a fourteen-hour journey. But she was getting married to a stranger whom I had never met, apart from a photo she once sent me when she first arrived in America. So, I suppose her protective nature had subsided, which was a good thing. However, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness. I was afraid that she was changing and that I would mean less to her. Soon, she would have two stepchildren, and I wouldn't be her only child anymore. I would have to share her with another man, her fiancé, who would soon be my stepdad. Jealousy seemed to linger in the back of my throat as I settled into my first-class seat. And yes, my stepdad was wealthy, which still surprised me considering my mother's average life in London. She somehow found someone like Mr Boyce, a successful resident of Las Vegas.

The beginning of the journey was filled with joy, as I felt liberated from the life I had left behind in London, including the all-girls boarding school I would no longer attend. Instead, I will start a new school this September with my step-siblings, practical as they may be. I did not know how old they were, what they looked like, or how they would behave. I was certain that wealthy American kids would not be kind to a girl who had attended an all-girls Catholic school, whether or not she was a step-sister. This feeling overshadowed the excitement of seeing America for the first time in my life, replacing it with a wave of nervousness. As the hours passed, I blamed my mum for making such a choice, secretly hoping that my step-siblings would be significantly younger than me.

Upon landing at McCarran International Airport, it was just as busy as Google had promised. During my research on the new environment, I discovered it was the fifth busiest airport in the country. I could feel my heart racing as I grabbed my purple suitcase and made my way through the crowd, heading towards the same location as my fellow passengers.

I should have been looking for my stepdad, as my mum believed that Boyce and I needed some bonding time during the drive to his home, where we would now be living. However, I hesitated, lingering behind the woman I had been following, until she disappeared into the crowd, leaving me stranded in the middle of the arrivals section. It was then that I noticed familiar words on a placard: Ava Lancelot. My name was written in clear, bold letters. While relieved, I couldn't shake off the nervousness that had settled within me.

With slow steps and a pounding heart, I approached a familiar blond man in his late forties. Suppressing a smile at my mum's choice once again, I waved at the man dressed in brown trousers and a white short-sleeved polo shirt. His sharp, sky-blue eyes darted in my direction, and his lips stretched into a broad grin.

He pulled me into an unexpected hug, catching me off guard.

"Ava, you're finally here. Everyone is so excited to see you," he exclaimed as he let go and took hold of my suitcase.

Speechless at the warm and generous welcome from my soon-to-be stepdad, I simply smiled and quietly followed him until we reached a grey Audi convertible. He turned to me with a neutral expression.

"Are you okay with low cars?" he asked.

"I think so," I responded slowly for the first time.

"Good, because Lilith isn't, and I suddenly thought you wouldn't be," he said as he got into the car. "Put on your seatbelt. Your mom reminded me to make sure you did," he added.

It was comforting to know that my mum was still her overprotective self. Ever since our teenage neighbours back in London had an accident and died because of reckless driving and not wearing seatbelts, my mum has taken no chances. "Who's Lilith?" I asked after I had buckled up.

He merged onto the motorway, keeping both hands on the wheel. "She's my little one," he smiled, and I reciprocated. Indeed, my soon-to-be step-siblings were younger. "So, how was your flight?"

I wasn't usually one to engage in conversations with people I had just met, but this man would be a constant presence in my life. With a shrug, I settled into the soft leather seat and began recounting everything about my flight to Las Vegas until the city came into view.

"This is..." I struggled to find the right word to describe the view, so I let my eyes widen in awe, taking it all in. Las Vegas, a blessing.

"Astounding," he said, his tone hinting at a smirk, but I nodded without looking at him.

We continued the journey in silence as I continued to marvel at the surrounding city. It was so beautiful, just as I had imagined. "How long have you been living here?" I asked Boyce after we had left the main roads and entered residential areas.

"Eight years now, but I can tell you I'm still not tired of this place. It's a fascinating place to be if you're smart and cautious," he said, pausing as he pulled into a driveway in front of a massive two-story building, next to an Audi SUV.

"This is your house?" I asked, taken aback, looking at the man beside me.

"Our house," he corrected me with a small smile playing on his lips. "Now, come and get used to your new home," he tilted his head, motioning for me to get out.

I stood in front of a house that I had only seen on TV screens. With my mouth slightly open, I took in the facade. This was my new home. I turned to admire the neatly organized surroundings. Each house was grand and beautiful, much like Neal's Yard or Hill Gate Street, but different. The buildings had garages or gates, lawns and patios, and everything was the opposite of what I was familiar with.

"Come on, let's go inside. Your mom is waiting," Boyce said, still smiling at me.

Following him, I watched as he reached for the mahogany doorknob and twisted it open. "Honey, we're home," he called out from the impressive entranceway, with a long staircase facing us. The house smelled heavenly. Ah, my mom and her courage.

I stood still by the door, waiting for my mum, who had brought my life here to provide me with support. It was difficult to breathe in a space that felt completely foreign. My eyes wandered around the spacious building, struggling to comprehend it all. The only thing that was obvious to me was that my soon-to-be stepfather was certainly wealthy.

"Dear Lord, my baby is home." Mum scurried from an unknown corner and enveloped me in her warm, familiar embrace. The scent immediately filled my surroundings as I melted into her arms. Yes, I am home.

She released me slightly, her hands resting on my shoulders as she gazed at me with sheer joy on her face, before planting kisses on my cheeks and hugging me again. "I've missed you," she whispered, tightening her embrace until I coughed.

"Okay, Mum, I can't breathe," I murmured, and I heard Boyce chuckle softly.

She loosened her grip but didn't let go completely. "Sorry, baby," she said again, and I smiled at her demeanor.

After a while, she finally seemed satisfied and pulled back, still beaming at me. "How was your flight here?" she asked.

"Oh, I already told Boyce," I informed her.

Grinning, her eyebrows lifted as she exchanged glances between Boyce and me. "That's good to hear. And baby, Boyce, is the family name. His name is Christian. Sorry I didn't tell you."

Narrowing my eyes at her, I felt slightly embarrassed about not knowing my mum's fiancé's name, thanks to our limited communication this year. It was mostly because of the rules of the boarding school, so I didn't blame her. "Luckily, she didn't call me that until now." he winked in my direction, and I only grew more embarrassed as I felt my cheeks flush. "Where's Lilith and Leigh?" he asked Mum.

"Lilith's in the backyard, and Leigh went out with Tyron and Arlen," she replied weakly.

"I told him to stay home and welcome Ava. You shouldn't be so kind to them, honey," he huffed in annoyance. Mum didn't reply. She just smiled at me and called for Lilith. Well, I suppose Christian children must be stubborn. One refuses to ride in low cars, while the other follows his friends, probably for a bicycle ride around this pleasant neighbourhood, which would be great for an evening outing.

"Lilith," Christian called out, much louder than Mum's soft voice.

To my surprise, within ten seconds, a tall brunette girl appeared with a beaming smile on her face. Her eyes were as clear as the hues of the forest, and her teeth sparkled like crystal. "Hey Ava, welcome home," she said, not stopping until I was in her arms. It seemed like I would receive hugs often, as the warmth and generosity of the surrounding people continued to amaze me.

So, Lilith isn't a child. She's a teenager just like me, and she certainly is Christian's youngest one, confirming my fear. My soon-to-be step-siblings are adults. "Ava, you're officially the youngest," Christian said with a wink, reminding me of his earlier comment while we were on our way here. As I stared at him, I realised that Lilith and Christian looked completely different, while I, on the other hand, was undoubtedly my mum's spitting image, with the same hazel eyes, thick light brown hair, and heart-shaped chin. Only our lips were different. My aunt used to say mine were plump, while Mum's were thin.

"Were you adopted?" It slipped out, and I squeezed my eyes shut, mentally hitting my head against the wall. Why did I blurt it out? I didn't mean to say it aloud.

Surprisingly, everyone burst into laughter, and I stood there glaring at the three people, feeling like an i***t. "No, she looks like her mother, Ava," Mum explained. "I told you, Christian. You're so different from the kids." Mum's hand slowly caressed Christian's chest above his white polo shirt.

"Now I believe you," he chuckled and kissed her forehead.

Lilith was still smiling as she explained, "Leigh and I don't resemble Dad at all. We get that a lot. People often mistook us for being adopted. Honestly, I don't know how my hair turned out brown." She twirled a strand of her hair with her fingers.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I didn't mean it, anyway."

"Don't apologise. I enjoy confusing people," she assured me with a giggle, confirming that we were good.

"Lilith will show you to your room while Christian and I start dinner. It's past five," Mum announced before the two of them disappeared down the straight path ahead of me.

"You're going to love your room. Leigh and I helped your mom decide on the colors and decorations. Your mom also mentioned that you like wallpaper, so maybe you can have that when you settle in. Honestly, I chose most of the decorations when I found out I'm eight months older than you," Lilith rushed her words as she pulled my suitcase, while my backpack rested on my shoulder.

"Thank you," I told her.

She glanced back at me and shook her head. "I'm so happy to have a sister. It's so dull when your only sibling is a boy and completely into boyish stuff. All they do is play video games and football." She chuckled.

I smiled at her remark as we reached the hallway. "It's truly disheartening when you're an only child," I told her.

"Oh, I rest my case." she raised her free hand in surrender, and I smiled at her sense of humour. Maybe having grown-up step-siblings won't be difficult after all.

As she opened the door next to the bedroom, which she claimed was hers, I gasped at the sight. "Don't blame me if you don't like the colour, but Leigh insisted that you'd prefer white with a touch of opera mauve," she quickly defended herself.

Quietly surveying the spacious double London-style bedroom, complete with a queen-sized bed adorned with a charming net canopy and a storage bench at the foot of the bed, many captivating frames, and a bookshelf filled with books, everything looked beautifully feminine. There was even a dressing mirror corner and a walk-in closet. "Actually, shades of purple are my favourites," I murmured. "Thank you."

Lilith helped me arrange my outfits in the closet and provided me with a new toothbrush, razor, and hairdryer from her own bedroom. To my surprise, Mum had brought some of my belongings from London, including my books and certain items that I found essential and sentimental. "So, what's fun about Las Vegas?" I asked as we both sat on a single sofa.

"It's Las Vegas. I couldn't even make a list," she laughed at my question. "Don't worry, I'll show you around soon," she added.

"That would be great," I told her.

"I love your voice and your accent. That's what made me instantly like your mom," she laughed.

"My mom's accent?" I asked in surprise.

Still chuckling, she nodded. "Yes, I wanted to learn it, but I realised it's not as easy as the alphabet," she said. "Yours is even better than your mom's, sorry." She playfully grimaced, and I laughed.

"Thank you," I said.

"Do you always respond with 'thank you' to everything?" she asked suspiciously. "Because you've thanked me more in the short time we've met than anyone has in my whole life."

"You thank people when they do or say something nice to you," I explained, shaking my head slowly, and she scrunched her nose.

"Yes, but don't mind, people in Vegas aren't worth it," she said as she rose to her feet. It was at that moment I heard Mum calling for us.

"I think dinner is ready!" Lilith cheered, and pulled me up.

The table was neatly set, and everything looked delicious even before taking a bite. We enjoyed dinner while discussing London and my old school, and I couldn't help but steal glances at my mom's colossal diamond ring. Throughout the meal, Christian complained about how lenient Mom was for letting Leigh leave the house without welcoming me.

***

The sound of my mobile phone woke me up. I couldn't remember setting the alarm last night, so I groggily tapped the phone with my fingers and snuggled back into my comforter, feeling the room turn into a freezer because of the air conditioner. After a moment, my phone buzzed again, and with a flared-up nose, I faced it. Sawyer's face appeared on the screen. She had actually woken me up at six in the morning. I angrily slid the accept button and greeted my cousin with my morning face.

"Hello, Ava. I wanted to know if you landed safely since you didn't bother to call, even though your mom told me you landed safely," Sawyer smiled.

"Do you realise it's six in the morning?" I stared at her in disbelief.

"Oh, I forgot to check the time difference." she scratched her neck and offered me an apologetic smile. "I'm already missing you, that's why."

I spent my break with Sawyer at Aunt Catherine's house, where we became almost inseparable. Fortunately, she will soon join me here for her six-month cooking competition in Las Vegas. Sawyer is two years older than me, but we feel like twins, mainly because of our strong connection. I didn't have many friends, even back home. So yes, Sawyer was my favourite.

"Forgiven, but please don't wake me up next time," I groaned. We chatted for a while longer until I went downstairs and make some tea.

The kitchen was surprisingly spacious and satisfying for someone like me, who had only ever used a tiny kitchen in my entire life. To my surprise, I easily found everything I needed.

Living with my mom and being her only friend, I became a traditional person. She loved tea mainly because, that way, she could save more money compared to purchasing other bottled or tinned beverages, and I agreed with that term to the point we have now gotten used to it.

I brewed the tea and stood by the counter, waiting for the precise moment to add milk and sugar, when the front door opened and closed. I didn't bother to check, as I predicted, it was Christian until someone walked into the kitchen moments later. I spun to my side with a gasp, and my eyes landed on a tall young man with messy chestnut hair and glistening green eyes. He was dressed in grey joggers and a black t-shirt, his chest rising and falling.

He must be Leigh.

Suddenly, I retracted my prediction from yesterday: no bicycle ride for a guy as big as Leigh. He held a pair of headphones, seemingly the only source of sound in the quiet space. He appeared completely unaware as he stared at me, without moving, for over a minute.

"Hey," I finally broke the awkward silence.

It took him almost five seconds to say the same.

"I'm Ava. I suppose you're Leigh," I muttered, feeling strange standing in the kitchen with a boy who was soon to be my stepbrother.

"Yeah," his voice was deep, husky, and distinctly American.

I didn't move from my spot, and I didn't attempt to start a conversation. "Won't your tea get cold?" he smirked at my cup. I was glad to see that not everyone in the family was a hugger, but I felt slightly disappointed at the same time.

I turned back to my tea and added milk and sugar while feeling his eyes on me. However, when I opened my mouth to ask him why he hadn't come home for dinner, the previous night (which wasn't really my place), I found myself alone once again in the kitchen. With a sigh, I savoured my favourite thing in the world—tea.