BILLIONAIRE OBSESSED WITH STEPSISTER

The Arrival from Elena's Point of View I was cleaning up more vomit on the sticky floor of the college bar.My back hurt and my arms hurt as the mop squeaked across the floors. My double shift was over two hours ago, but Maria called in sick, and the rent still had to be paid. I stayed because of that. It hurt my fingers to touch the cleaner. My gut twisted from nothing but toast and cold water.As the phone kept buzzing, I reached into my back pocket and turned it off. Once more, the university? Another warning about fees? Or maybe the power company is telling me they’d cut me off—again.But it wasn’t them. "Can you talk?" – MomI sighed, ducking into the back storage room, away from the smell of beer and broken dreams.“Mom? What’s wrong?”Her voice crackled with nervous energy. “I have news, sweetie. I met someone.”I blinked. “Like… romantically?”She laughed. “Yes. His name is Renato. He’s… a businessman. A very good one.”“Okay,” I said slowly. “And?”“We’re getting married.”I nearly dropped the phone. “Wait—what?! Since when?”“For a few months now,” she said. “I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure. But… he proposed. And we’re going to Brazil this weekend.”“Brazil?” I repeated, stunned. “Mom, I have finals. Three jobs. No ID. No money. I can’t just—”“You won’t need to worry about that anymore.” Her voice relaxed. “He wants to take care of both of us.”I fell quiet. “There’s more,” she added. “He has a son. About your age. His name’s Eduardo.”Eduardo. It sounded like silk and danger all at once.“I don’t know about this…” I muttered. “You barely know this man.”“I do know him,” she said firmly. “Please, Elena. Come with me. Just try.”I looked at the wet mop beside me and breathed. This life—the one where I scraped by and barely existed—was killing me. Slowly.“…Fine,” I whispered. “I’ll come.”Brazil. The heat in Brazil didn’t feel like New York’s. It was wild, high, living. Even the sunlight seemed fuller. The private jet—yes, jet—had felt strange. But the mansion?It was like going into another universe. Massive white gates opened to endless hills of palm trees, ponds, and smooth marble roads. A suited driver led us quietly through grounds that didn’t even look real. Parrots fluttered overhead. The smell of flowers I couldn’t name filled the air.The house—no, palace—loomed ahead. Marble piers. Real gold doorframes. A road that shone like glass.And there I stood, in my wrinkled thrift-store sweater, jeans that didn’t fit, and shoes with a hole in the toe.“Close your mouth, Elena,” Mom whispered as she squeezed my arm.I snapped it shut.The door opened. A tall man in his fifties stepped forward, gray hair slicked back, carrying a glass of red wine. Renato. He smiled, kissed my mother’s hand, then turned to me.“You must be Elena,” he said kindly.“Thank you,” I mumbled awkwardly. And then—I saw him. Behind Renato, leaning against the doorway like he owned the earth.Eduardo. He didn’t smile. He didn’t move. He simply stared.Black button-up, cuffs rolled to his elbows, showing off strong, tan arms. A carved mouth. Dark waves falling just right. Cold gray eyes that didn’t blink.His gaze raked over me. Not like I was a person. Like I was an unwanted puzzle piece thrown into his perfect picture.I breathed sharply. He said nothing. Neither did I.Inside the Mansion. Crystal lights. Gilded frames. Walls that smelled like wealth. I followed behind Renato and Mom as they chatted, heels clicking softly against marble floors.But I could feel him behind me.Eduardo. Watching. Judging. Waiting. DinnerThe eating hall was absurd—like something out of Versailles. The table sat sixteen. There were four forks by my plate. I didn’t know what to do with any of them.Eduardo sat far down the table, slowly stirring his wine. He hadn’t spoken a word since I arrived. Not one.I took a seat midway—far from him, but not so far that it would be clear.Renato raised his glass. “To new beginnings and blended families.”Eduardo didn’t raise his.I cleared my throat. “Thanks for letting us stay.”Eduardo looked up—slowly. His voice was smooth and scary. “You weren’t invited.”I stiffened. “Well, I didn’t invite you either.”Renato laughed nervously. “Let’s all try to get along, yes?”Eduardo put his glass down without drinking. “Some people should know when they don’t belong.”I tightened my grip on my fork. “And some people should learn how to be decent.”His lips curled slightly. “Careful, Elena.”“Maybe we should talk about something else,” Mom cut in, her eyes moving between us.I pushed my plate away. I wasn’t hungry anymore. Neither was he.He just watched me. Like a problem already solved.After Dinner – Balcony. The moon was high. Brazil’s air at night brought a sweetness I wasn’t used to. The yard stretched forever beneath my balcony. I needed air. I needed out.The cold stone under my bare feet grounded me. I leaned against the railing and breathed.Then came the sound of footsteps. I turned slowly. Eduardo appeared from the shadows like he was part of them.He didn’t speak at first. Just stood there. Silent. Watching. Then—“Don’t get comfortable.” I tensed. “Is that a threat?”“A warning.” He stepped closer. His voice is low. “You’re not meant to stay here.”“I don’t plan to,” I shot back. “This isn’t my dream.”He studied me. “Good. Because I’m not your prince, Elena. And this?” His hand motioned around us. “This isn’t your fairytale.”I almost laughed. “Trust me. If you were the prize, I’d stay asleep.”His gaze dropped to my hand holding the rail.“You’re shaking,” he said.“I’m cold,” I lied.“No.” He tilted his head. “You’re scared.”I glared. “Of you? Please.”His smile was slow. Cruel. “We’ll see.” He turned, disappearing into the dark. But his words stayed.They wrapped around my lungs like smoke. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Then—I beging screaming.Not far. Sharp. Real.I rushed to the edge of the balcony, looking down.Darkness.And Eduardo.Standing in the garden… looking up at me.Silent.As if he knew exactly what would happen.And I had no idea if I was going into a new life—or his trap.