Step rival:A forbidden love story

Lights camera action

My gown had been delivered in the morning,a silver masterpiece studded with a million diamonds that caught the light like fallen stars. As I stepped into the glass slippers, I looked like I’d stepped out of a fairytale. Hair styling was our ritual; Mom hummed as she pinned my curls, a rare moment of peace in our new, chaotic life.

I twirled in front of the mirror, the silk whispering against my skin. Maybe being a Milburn wasn’t going to be as bad as I’d feared.

I twirled once more, caught up in the reflection.

"Careful, Blondie. You might have a concussion before we even make it to the driveway."

I froze. Jason was leaning against the doorframe, looking devastating in a tailored black tuxedo.

"Have some joy, Jason," I snapped, though my heart skipped. "You grumpy old man. I’m happy today, and you should be, too."

He didn't smile. He just checked his watch. "I’ll meet you downstairs."

The event was a blur of blinding lights. "Smile, Eliza," Mom whispered, her voice thick with a pride I hadn't seen since Texas. She was basking in the flashes of the paparazzi, finally feeling like she belonged.

"The constant flashing is going to give me a seizure," I muttered.

"Stand next to your brother!" a photographer shouted.

Jason didn't hesitate. He drew me flush against his side, his hand clamping firmly onto my waist. The heat of his palm through the silver silk felt like it was stealing the very oxygen from my lungs. A single touch, and the "fairytale" felt a lot more like a trap.

The ballroom of the St. Regis looked like something out of a Disney movie gold leaf, crystal chandeliers, and a sea of Atlanta’s elite.

"Close your mouth, Blondie. Stop gawking," Jason leaned in to whisper.

"It’s not every day I’m in a palace, Jason."

He left me then, disappearing into a circle of business partners and old money. Mom was busy navigating the shark-infested waters of the other "trophy" wives, and Collins was nowhere to be found.

I stood by the bar, sipping wine I wasn't sure I was allowed to have, when I spotted her. Ruby. She stared at me for a long beat, her eyes tracking the way the silver dress hugged my curves. She offered a weird, sharp smile and moved on. I tried to shake off the chill.

"Hi, I’m Freddy. Global Engineering. Your dad’s partner."

I turned to see a man with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Hi, Freddy. I’m Eliza."

"Jason’s little sister," he added, his gaze lingering too low.

"Right," I said, the word feeling like ash in my mouth.

"Want to ditch this bore?" he asked, nodding toward the terrace. "The air is better out there."

"My mom would be mad..."

"Please, Princess. Just the balcony. What's a little fresh air ever killed?"

I followed him out, but the second the glass doors shut, the "gentleman" vanished. He tried to grab my hand, and I recoiled.

"Don't be coy," he hissed, his face reddening. "Be a good girl like your mother and learn to accept the advances of a rich man. I can give you anything you want, Eliza. Just go with the vibe."

"Freddy, you’re out of your mind if you think I’m that girl. Get away from me before I get violent."

He lunged, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward him. "w***e. Just be a good girl"

I fought him, my heels skidding on the stone, when a voice like a thunderclap cut through the night.

"Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, Frederick? Still forcing yourself on ladies? Let alone my sister."

Jason stepped out of the shadows. Before Freddy could even stammer an excuse, Jason landed a heavy, bone deep blow to his jaw. Freddy hit the deck, and Jason followed it up with a slap that echoed off the balcony walls ,a stinging insult for every girl Freddy had ever cornered. Freddy scrambled away like a wounded animal, disappearing back into the crowd.

I didn't think. I just ran into Jason’s embrace, sobbing into his tuxedo. I clung to him, my fingers digging into the fabric.

"I wonder who clings to their brother like a frightened kitten," a voice drawled.

I stiffened. Ruby was standing by the door, her phone in her hand, a look of pure malice on her face. "Weird," she added, before walking away.

I let go of Jason immediately, my skin crawling. I marched back into the hall, found my mother, and told her I was done. I wanted to go home.

"Let your brother drive," Mom said, distracted by a conversation. "He said he was leaving, too."

The next morning, I was ripped out of sleep by a crashing sound from outside. My hands began to shake instantly.

I tried to breathe, but the expensive sheets beneath me vanished. I was back in our tiny apartment in Texas. I could see my dad’s face, red with rage, the veins in his neck popping as he screamed at Mom. Incompetent. Failure. Disgusting.

In the memory, he tossed me to the ground so hard my head cracked against the corner of the wooden table.

"Liza? Eliza, are you okay?"

I snapped back to reality. Jason’s sea-blue eyes were inches from mine, filled with a rare, genuine concern.

"I'm fine," I gasped, wiping sweat from my forehead. "The noise... it just threw me off."

I tried to make my way back to my room, but the mansion felt like a maze. "I'm confused. Where am I?"

"You're in my mother’s wing of the house," Jason said quietly. "It’s been closed off for years, ever since the divorce. The noise you heard was her. Her and her lawyers."

"What are they doing here?"

"She's fighting for my custody. For the trust fund, mostly. She never calls me, Eliza. She’s an odd woman. She couldn't even look at me today." He looked toward a corner where a heavy punching bag hung from the ceiling. "I set up a boxing ring here to punch away the anger. Her being here today... it riled me up."

"Parents are weird, Jason," I whispered, the trauma of my own father still heavy in my chest. "My dad is marrying a mini Barbie next month. I wasn't even invited. And now I have a stepbrother I can't stand. Life sucks."

"Your stepbrother? Is he hot?" Jason asked, a ghost of a smirk returning.

"He's a menace. Please just show me the way back to my room."

"Straight ahead, then a left."

I started walking, but a door left slightly ajar caught my eye. I stepped into a room that smelled of old perfume and dust. In the center, covered by a moth-eaten cloth, was a large frame.

I pulled the cloth away.

It was a family portrait. Collins, Jason’s mother, and Jason as a small boy. But standing right next to him was another boy. Identical. Same hair. Same sea blue eyes. Same mischievous smile.

My blood turned to ice. Jason has a brother. A twin.

And nobody has ever mentioned his name.