Chapter 1
The heavy teak doors of the Goh's Blue Mansion didn't just open; they seemed to swallow Levitt whole.
At eighteen, her entire world had been reduced to the weight of two battered suitcases and the lingering scent of hospital antiseptic. With her mother gone and her father serving another three years in a state penitentiary, the mansion's sprawling, indigo-washed walls felt less like a sanctuary and more like a gilded cage.
"Don't hunch your shoulders, Levitt," her Aunt Renee whispered, her hand a warm, reassuring pressure on Levitt's lower back as they walked into the grand dining hall. "You belong here now. Peter and I have taken care of everything. Your tuition is fully covered until the day you graduate. All you need to do is focus on your studies and stand on your own feet."
Peter Goh, the eldest son of the Goh empire and Renee's husband, offered a gentle, welcoming smile from the head of the long mahogany table. "Welcome to the family, Levitt. Think of this as your home."
"Thank you, Aunt Renee. Thank you, Uncle Peter," Levitt said, her voice small but sincere. The gratitude was heavy, but it was the only currency she had.
"Sit, sit," Peter gestured to the empty seats. "My younger brother should be joining us shortly. He's usually buried in his architectural designs, but I insisted he greet you."
Right on cue, the double doors at the far end of the hall swung open.
Levitt looked up, expecting someone resembling Uncle Peter—perhaps a bit more weathered by business. Instead, the man who walked in looked entirely out of place among the antique opulence. He was tall, with sharp, angular features and dark eyes that seemed to take in the entire room in a single, bored sweep. He wore a crisp black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exuding an air of quiet, intense focus.
'He's only twenty-one', Levitt reminded herself, remembering Renee's brief description of Peter's much younger brother. Only three years older than her.
As he took his seat across from her, his dark eyes locked onto hers. The intensity was jarring. Levitt felt a sudden surge of nervousness. She was a guest here—a charity case, technically—and she needed to show the utmost respect to everyone bearing the Goh name.
"Demetrius," Peter said, pouring a glass of water. "This is Levitt. Renee's niece."
Demetrius gave a terse, barely perceptible nod. "Welcome." His voice was a low, smooth baritone.
Levitt straightened her posture, determined to strike the perfect balance of polite and deferential. If Peter was Uncle Peter, then out of sheer respect for the family funding her future, it only made sense to extend the title.
"It's an honor to meet you, Uncle Demetrius," Levitt said clearly, offering a polite, practiced bow of her head.
The reaction was instantaneous, though subtle.
Demetrius froze. The glass he was reaching for remained untouched. His dark eyes narrowed, flashing with a sudden, sharp irritation that cut through his previous boredom. For a second, the tension in the room plummeted below freezing.
He stared at her, his jaw tightening so hard a small muscle twitched in his cheek.
"What did you just call me?" he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper.
Levitt blinked, her heart fluttering with sudden panic. "I... Uncle Demetrius?"
Demetrius abruptly stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the polished marble floor. The harsh sound echoed off the high ceilings. He didn't look at his brother, nor did he look at Renee. He kept his piercing gaze entirely on Levitt for one agonizing second before turning on his heel.
Without a single word, he strode out of the dining hall, his long steps carrying him away until the heavy doors slammed shut behind him.
Levitt sat frozen, her fork hovering in mid-air, a lump forming in her throat. She looked frantically between her aunt and uncle-in-law. "I—I'm so sorry. Did I say something wrong? Should I go apologize?"
Aunt Renee merely sighed, waving a dismissive hand as she passed a bowl of roasted vegetables. "Oh, eat your dinner, sweetie. Don't worry about him."
"Renee is right," Uncle Peter added, completely unfazed as he cut into his steak. "Demetrius has always been like a storm cloud—cold, distant, and entirely unpredictable. He hates formal family dynamics, but he'll get over it. It has nothing to do with you, Levitt."
Levitt nodded slowly, sinking back into her chair. She stared at the empty seat across from her, the ghost of his irritated glare still burning in her mind. She had intended to show respect, but clearly, she had struck a very raw nerve.
What do you think happens the next time Levitt and Demetrius run into each other alone in the mansion?
