BILLIONAIRE OBSESSED WITH STEPSISTER

CHAPTER TWO

“Unwelcome”POV: ElenaMisfit in Paradise.

The scream haunted me all night.But the next morning? Silence. The maids smiled like porcelain dolls. My mother hummed as she sipped her tea. Eduardo strolled past me without a glance. No one mentioned the sound I was sure I heard echoing through the trees.Maybe they were used to ghosts in this house. Maybe they’d buried more than secrets in the garden.The mansion sparkled with untouched wealth—glass, marble, silk. But none of it felt warm. I was the only thing that didn’t belong here. A smudge in someone else’s painting.The maids quieted whenever I entered. Their eyes darted to my cheap clothes, my secondhand sneakers. I knocked over a crystal vase trying to figure out the digital coffee machine, and one of them laughed.I left it. Walked out with orange juice dripping down my fingers.“Elena,” Mom called, waving from the sunroom. She wore a linen dress, glowing, like some rich man’s dream. “Renato’s invited us to a gala tonight. Something formal.”I wiped my hands on a napkin. “I don’t have anything formal.”Before she could respond, Eduardo entered barefoot, holding coffee like a weapon. Dark pants. Shirt half-buttoned. He didn’t even look at me.“You’ll wear one of my old dresses,” Mom said. “We’ll tailor it.”“Won’t that be weird?”“What’s weird is how quiet you are.” She paused. “Are you okay?”I thought about telling her. The scream. Eduardo’s warning. The shadow last night. But I didn’t.“I’m fine,” I lied.Eduardo finally glanced at me. One look. Cold. Empty. Contempt. And then he walked away.The Media Scandal. The estate transformed after sunset. Spotlights outside. Staff in tuxedos. Drivers lined the curved road.Reporters waited at the gate, cameras poised.Inside, I stood at the top of the grand staircase. My mother’s red gown clung too tightly at my chest and dragged behind me. It didn’t fit—but I wore it anyway.I stepped onto the floor like a soldier walking into battle. The stares hit first.Women whispered. Men watched too long. I heard someone murmur “charity case” behind a napkin.I held onto my mother’s arm like a lifeline. “Elena,” Renato beamed, “meet the Arudas, the Costas, the Bellinis…” Names I couldn’t remember. Faces blurred into polished masks.I drifted toward the back of the room. Alone.“Champagne?” A server offered.“Yes, thanks.” I held the glass like armor.“Elena, right?”The voice made my skin crawl.Antonio Santos. Tan, too charming, and far too close.“I’ve heard a lot about you.”“I can’t say the same.”He laughed. “Feisty. I like that.”I tried stepping away. He blocked me.“You should be careful,” he said, his voice dropping. “Girls like you don’t last here. Not without someone watching out for them.”My fingers tightened around the glass. “I’m fine on my own.”“You sure?” He reached for my wrist.“Don’t touch me—” “Back. Off.” The voice cut like a blade. Eduardo stood behind me,his jaw folded, his eyes blazing.Antonio raised his hands. “Didn’t mean anything, bro. Relax.” Eduardo stepped in front of me, his presence thunderous. “She said no.”The room went still. Cameras clicked. Whispers stirred.“Isn’t that his stepsister?” someone murmured.Eduardo’s hand brushed my back. Just a second. Just enough.And I hated that it felt like protection. “She’s Mine”I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. I walked the halls instead, barefoot like a ghost. The study door was cracked. I heard his voice inside.“No. I don’t care what he wants. If Antonio touches her again, he’s finished.” I froze.Eduardo paced the room, phone to his ear.“She’s mine,” he said. “No one touches her. Not even Antonio.”My breath caught.Mine?He sounded like he meant it. Not possession. Not jealousy. Like a promise. He turned toward the window. “If he goes near her again, I’ll break his face.”I stepped back. The floor creaked. His head snapped up. “Elena?”I turned and ran. “Elena—wait!” But I was already gone. Confused Heart. I hid in the guest room the next morning.“I am having headache,” I told Mom. She believed me. But I didn’t. I couldn’t stop hearing it—She’s mine.Why would he say that? Why would he care? One moment, he hated me. The next, he was ready to kill for me. I couldn’t make sense of it. And then I crashed into him. Literally. Corner hallway. He came out of the shower, towel low around his waist. I slammed straight into his chest.His arms caught me. Tight. Warm. I stared. Chest. Water. Muscles. His hand was still on me.“Sorry,” I whispered.He didn’t let go. “Elena.” His voice was soft. “Why were you eavesdropping last night?”“I wasn’t. I just… heard you.”He searched my face. “You shouldn’t be walking alone at night. Not here.”“I wasn’t planning a party.”He smiled—barely. “You shouldn’t be alone.” “You make that kind of hard.” He finally stepped back.“I meant what I said. About Antonio.” “He’s not the only dangerous one here,” I said quietly.He stilled. “I won’t hurt you, Elena.” Something cracked in me.I hated how fast my pulse jumped. I hated how I didn’t pull away. How I didn’t want him to leave.But he did. And I stood there, trembling.That night, I saw it again. Movement in the yard. Same place I heard the scream. I stepped onto the balcony. Cold air bit my skin.There—at the edge of the trees. A figure. Watching. I couldn’t move. Then it stepped back into the darkness.I shut the door. Locked it.This wasn’t paradise. It was a golden cage. And someone was shaking the bars.I shut the balcony door quickly and locked it, but the air still felt cold. Not from the breeze, but from the way the shadow hadn’t moved. It just stood there. Watching. Waiting. Like I knew something I didn’t.I stepped away, heart pounding, and pressed my back to the door. Why wasn’t anyone else noticing these things? The scream. The shadow. Eduardo’s warning. It felt like this place had its own rules—and I was the only one who hadn’t been given a manual.My phone buzzed. I jumped. A message. Unknown number: "Careful who you trust."That was it. No name. No context. Just that. I stared at it, hands trembling. Was this about Eduardo? Antonio? Or someone else entirely? I saved the number, screenshot the message, and turned off my phone. Whatever game this was, I didn’t want to play it in the dark.Downstairs, I heard voices. My mother. Renato. Laughter. Music from the old record player. The house was alive with sound, and yet I felt utterly alone.Then came a soft knock. I froze.Another knock. This time firmer.“Elena?”Eduardo.I hesitated, but my feet moved on their own. I cracked the door open just enough to see him leaning on the frame, shirtless again, sweat glistening across his chest. His eyes searched mine.“You okay?” he asked.“I got a message,” I whispered. “From someone I don’t know. They said… ‘Careful who you trust.’”He stiffened. “Show me.”I held up the phone. He took it, studied it, and then looked at me again. “You didn’t reply, right?”Yeah, I said, and shook my head.“Good,” he muttered. “Block it. And don’t go outside alone again.”I crossed my arms. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Eduardo?”He didn’t answer. “Was it about the scream? The shadow? Or something worse?”Finally, he spoke. “Some people want to tear this family apart. They’ll use anything. Even you.”“Why me?”“Because you’re new. And because…” he stepped closer, his voice dropping, “...they know I’d do anything to keep you safe.”Before I could respond, glass shattered downstairs.A scream ripped through the hall. Eduardo turned instantly. “Stay here.” But I didn’t listen.I followed the sound. And what I saw in the grand hallway made my blood freeze….A single red rose. Torn. Blood smeared across the marble floor. And beside it—Antonio’s watch.Still ticking. But Antonio? Nowhere to be found.