Chapter 3: The Frosty Welcomes
1206 Words
The plane touches down after hours in the air, and the cold hits me like a slap as we step off.
The airport is buzzing, but all I feel is the chill seeping through my jacket.
Jess is bouncing beside me, somehow unbothered by the freezing weather, her backpack slung over one shoulder. I tug my duffel closer, my breath fogging in the icy air.
As we head toward the exit, I spot my mom near the gate, holding one of those cheesy welcome signs with “Zara & Jess” scrawled in bright marker.
She’s beaming, her energy way too high for someone standing in a drafty airport.
Before I can blink, Jess squeals and runs forward like a kid, throwing her arms around my mom.
They’ve always had this weird, super-close bond I don’t get. By the time I catch up, they’re giggling like old friends, their voices overlapping.
“Ellen, you look more beautiful! Is it because you’ve got a man now?” Jess teases, still hugging my mom.
“Oh, please, don’t start, my dear,” Mom says, laughing, her cheeks flushed.
Mom’s 40 but could pass for 30. She had me at 17, so we’ve always been more like sisters than mother and daughter in some ways.
Her dark hair’s swept into a sleek ponytail, and she’s wearing a tailored cream coat over a burgundy sweater and jeans.
Her green eyes—same as mine—sparkle with that newlywed glow I’m not sure I like. She’s always been pretty, but there’s something extra about her now, like she’s lit up from the inside.
“Hi, Mom,” I say, slowing as I reach them.
“Come here, baby,” she says, pulling me into a hug and planting a quick peck on my cheek. Her perfume, floral and familiar, wraps around me, but I stiffen a little.
I love her, but things got messy between us somewhere along the way—too many arguments, too many unspoken grudges. I pull back quietly, forcing a small smile.
The drive to the mansion is long, the snowy countryside blurring past the car windows.
Jess chats nonstop with Mom, who’s in the front seat, while I stare out, my mind drifting to ShadowWolf’s messages. I shake it off as we pull up to the estate.
It’s massive—stone walls, tall windows, and a blanket of snow making it look like a postcard. My stomach twists. This is home for the next few weeks.
We step out, and Richard, my new stepdad, is waiting at the door with two guys—my stepbrothers, I guess.
Richard’s in his early 50s, tall and polished, with salt-and-pepper hair and a warm smile that feels a little too practiced. He’s dressed in a navy sweater and slacks, like he’s ready for a business casual photoshoot. “Welcome, girls!” he says, his voice booming.
Liam, the older stepbrother, steps forward first.
He’s 29, with short sandy hair and kind blue eyes. He’s built solid, like he works out but doesn’t flaunt it, wearing a gray hoodie and jeans.
His smile is genuine, easy, and he shakes Jess’s hand, then mine.
“Hey, Zara, Jess. Good to meet you. Hope the flight was okay.”
Kayden, 27, hangs back, his vibe completely different.
He’s leaner, with dark hair that falls into his eyes and a jawline sharp enough to cut.
His black leather jacket and ripped jeans scream trouble, and his gray eyes are cold, like he’s sizing us up.
He doesn’t smile, just nods, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“We missed you at the wedding,” Richard says, clapping a hand on my shoulder.
The air goes still, everyone’s eyes on me for a split second.
“I was busy with work,” I say, flashing a tight smile to cover the awkwardness.
“You girls must be tired,” Mom cuts in, breaking the silence. “Go settle in. Boys, help them with their bags.”
Liam grabs my duffel and Jess’s backpack, chatting lightly as he leads us inside.
Kayden picks up a smaller bag, trailing behind without a word.
The mansion’s interior is as grand as the outside—polished wood floors, a massive chandelier, and walls lined with art that probably costs more than my rent.
Liam gives us a quick tour, pointing out the library, dining hall, and a cozy lounge with a fireplace.
“Plenty of space to get lost in,” he says with a grin.
Kayden stays silent, his boots scuffing the floor like he’s bored.
We reach our room on the second floor, a two-in-one setup with a shared living area but separate bedrooms.
The space is huge, with plush cream carpets, two queen beds with navy quilts, and big windows overlooking the snowy grounds.
There’s a small sofa, a coffee table, and a desk tucked in the corner. It’s fancy but cozy, like a high-end hotel.
“I hope you like it,” Liam says, setting our bags down, his smile warm.
“It’s perfect,” Jess says, practically bouncing.
“Okay, well, you can relax,” Liam says, heading for the door. “Dinner’s at 7 if you’re up for it.”
“Thank you, Liam,” I say, trying to sound polite.
He nods, then shoots Kayden a look that screams don’t misbehave.
Kayden just leans against the wall, arms crossed, staring at us like we’re a puzzle he doesn’t care to solve.
Once Liam’s gone, Kayden doesn’t move. He just stands there, his body relaxed but his eyes sharp, watching us.
My skin prickles under his gaze. Then, out of nowhere, he steps forward, way too close, his boots inches from mine.
“Hi, sister,” he says, his voice low and mischievous, like he’s mocking the word. “It’s nice to meet you.”
I step back, my heart thudding. “Nice to meet you too, Kayden,” I say, keeping my tone even.
He scoffs, his eyes dragging over me, then Jess, slow and deliberate. “Enjoy, ladies,” he says, a smirk tugging at his lips. With that, he turns and shuts the door behind him.
Jess bursts into a loud laugh, collapsing onto the sofa. “I just arrived, but I’m having so much fun!”
“There’s nothing funny, Jess,” I snap, tossing my jacket on the bed. “I don’t know why you’re laughing.”
“Spare me that,” she says, grinning. “You know I live for drama. Besides, your stepbrothers are so hot—even the dad! No wonder your mom fell in love instantly.”
She giggles, dodging the pillow I throw at her. “I wish they had a sister. I’d definitely go down with her.”
I give her a hard stare, and she tries to suppress her laughter, biting her lip.
“Just open up, Zara,” she says, softer now.
“Give them a chance. They’re already family, so deal with it.”
“Liam’s not bad,” I admit, unpacking my bag.
“He seems nice. But Kayden? I hate him already. He’s a psycho.”
And he better not cross my path, I murmur.
- Writer
