The Wrong Brother

Chapter Fourteen—Nova

I sighed, tired. And maybe a bit hurt.

No calls or texts from my mother. Even after I had left a note for her saying I was spending the summer break at Ariana’s place—a big lie. But, my mother had no time for social media so she couldn’t find out the scandal I was involved in.

“I wish she could at least care a bit.”

The mid-afternoon sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Adrian Castellane’s penthouse, painting the living room in a soft honey glow. I was curled on the couch with a book I wasn’t really reading, Zeus sprawled at my feet, when the doorbell chimed.

I frowned. Visitors were rare, and Adrian had specifically instructed me to not let anyone wander in without notice.

I glanced at the security panel. A familiar face smiled back at me: Zaria.

A slow, exasperated sigh left my lips. Of course. She’d decided today was the perfect day to visit.

I buzzed her in, Zeus instantly alert, tail wagging. I tried to look nonchalant as Zaria’s heels clicked against the marble floor, her long curls bouncing as she entered with that wide, rehearsed smile.

“Nova!” she chirped, arms open for a hug. I hesitated for only a second before returning it.

Old habits died hard. Despite everything, part of me wanted this—the comfort, the familiarity.

“Zaria,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Hi.”

“You look… peaceful.” She perched on the couch beside me, delicate as always, radiating warmth. “Like you’ve found some kind of calm here. And where’s the man behind all this?”

I raised a brow. “Adrian’s not here.”

She tilted her head. “I know. Which is why I came.”

Her smile held too much sincerity, almost rehearsed. I didn’t trust it completely, but I ignored the niggle in my gut. After all, I had given her a second chance.

“I figured…” she began, tucking her legs beneath her, “I should come by. Talk, catch up. You know, be here for you.”

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the floor. I wanted her friendship. I needed it. But I was still careful. Still cautious.

“So,” she continued smoothly, “how’s… him?” Her tone was casual, almost too casual, but her eyes were sharp, searching. Adrian’s name made my stomach clench slightly.

I hesitated. “He’s… fine. Busy.”

“Busy, huh?” she echoed, tilting her head. “I can imagine. Must be… a lot to handle him living here, though.”

I stiffened. “It’s manageable.”

Her lips curved, just slightly, like she was savoring some secret. “I mean… I get it. He’s intimidating. You’re… well, you’re not exactly small either. But, I dunno, I always wondered how you deal with him.”

I swallowed, feeling a flicker of defensiveness. “I’m handling it.”

“Of course,” she said, nodding as if she believed me, though her smile tightened ever so subtly.

We fell into a quiet rhythm. She asked about my summer break, my classes, the book I was pretending to read, even my oddly obsessive coffee habits. I answered politely, cautiously, while sneaking glances at her. There were little tells—tight smiles, the way she tilted her head when I mentioned Adrian, the slight pause before she asked another question.

I tried to ignore them. Focus on the friendship. She had asked for it, and I had said yes.

“You know,” she said casually, leaning back, “I always regretted… not being there sooner.”

“You mean… after Bruno?” I asked softly, keeping my voice neutral.

She nodded. “I shouldn’t have let things fester. I shouldn’t have let you deal with him on your own. I… I wasn’t proud of how I handled it.”

I forced a small, polite smile. “It’s fine. We’re… good now.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, but her eyes lingered on me a little too long. “But I want to make it up to you. Be the friend you needed.”

I hesitated, sensing the subtle undertone in her words. She was doing more than just apologizing; she was probing. Testing boundaries. And I had given her a second chance, so I couldn’t push her away outright. But I was wary.

“Thanks,” I said carefully. “I… appreciate that.”

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “So… tell me. How is he? Really. Living with him… it must be intense.”

I stiffened. “I’m managing.”

“Managing,” she repeated, her lips twitching into a faint smirk. “I mean… you’ve always been stubborn, Nova. I can’t imagine him being easy to handle. Does he… frustrate you? Challenge you?”

I felt a flash of irritation. “Why do you care?”

Her smile softened. “I do care. You’re my friend. And… I’ve always known you could handle a lot. But some things…” Her gaze shifted, lingering on me, “some things aren’t just about handling. They’re… about choices.”

I frowned. “Choices?”

“Yeah,” she said casually, shrugging, as if the conversation wasn’t loaded with subtext. “Like… who you let into your life, and how much you let them in. You know… the little details that make the difference between being… comfortable and being… caught off guard.”

I blinked, suddenly aware of how carefully she was threading her words. Zaria had always been clever, but this… this felt sharper than before. Calculated.

I let it slide. I had to. She was here as my friend, and I wanted to believe her.

We talked for another hour—laughing at old inside jokes, reminiscing about high school pranks, even sharing minor grievances about mutual friends. But always, just beneath the laughter, I felt her subtle probing, testing, fishing.

And I hated myself for letting her back into my space so easily.

Just as she stood, gathering her things, the air shifted. She lingered by the door, her hand on the knob, a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“By the way…” she said softly, tilting her head, eyes glinting just enough to make me uneasy, “be careful. Sometimes the people who seem closest… aren’t really who you think they are.”

I froze. The words hung between us like smoke.

Before I could respond, the front door opened. Adrian stepped in, tie loosened, jacket draped over his arm, a folder under one arm. He paused, surveying the scene—Zaria standing with that too-perfect smile, Atlas at my feet, me frozen mid-step.

“Everything okay?” His voice was calm, measured, but the faint sharpness in his eyes told me he already sensed the tension.

Zaria’s smile widened, almost innocently. “Of course,” she said sweetly, turning toward him. “Just catching up with Nova.”

Adrian’s gaze flicked between us, unreadable. My stomach twisted. Something about the timing, the words Zaria had just spoken, and Adrian’s quiet scrutiny made my pulse hammer.

She finally moved toward the door, still smiling, but that cryptic remark lingered in the room like a shadow.

“See you soon,” she said, waving.

As the door clicked shut behind her, the penthouse felt colder, heavier. I looked at Adrian, who was still standing by the door, one brow raised.

“Everything okay?” he repeated, a slight edge now in his voice.

I swallowed. “Yeah… just… Zaria.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze sharp and calculating. “Hmm.”

And in that moment, I realized something. The second chance I’d given Zaria… might not be as safe as I thought.

Or maybe, I was overthinking things.