OWNED BY MY STEPBROTHER

On The Kitchen Floor

"At the University, you don't exist, and I like it that way. But in this house? You’re the only lesson I’m interested in”.—Silas.

The air in the kitchen tasted like expensive coffee and my own humiliation. I’d barely slept, my brain still caught in the sticky, terrifying residue of a nightmare I couldn't quite name—just a feeling of being chased through a house with no locks.

I stood on the bottom step, my throat as dry as sandpaper, watching Silas. He was leaned against the marble counter in the open-concept parlor, looking every bit the "Golden Boy" my parents worshipped.

He was already dressed for his morning lectures—a charcoal sweater that made him look like a wall of granite and a white collar peeking out that was far too crisp for eight in the morning.

He didn't even look up from his phone.

"Would you see," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that made the hair on my arms stand up. "The little grade-hider has finally awoken."

I froze. He wasn’t looking at a text. He was on a video call. And then I heard it—the high, frantic pitch of my mother’s voice vibrating through his speakers.

"...and Silas, I just don't understand it! Ds and Es? In Biology? Our Jade used to be so bright. Look at this, honey, look at what we found tucked in the very back of her desk drawer."

A wave of heat crashed over me, starting at my chest and climbing to my ears. My mother was holding my mid-term reports up to her camera, her face blotchy from another round of crying.

To her, those failing grades were a mystery. To Silas, they were just proof of what he’d always suspected—that I was a mess he was now forced to clean up.

"Mom!" I lunged.

I didn't think about the rules or the three years of silence between us. I just saw my shame being broadcasted to the one person who looked at me like I was a smudge on a windowpane.

I snatched the phone out of his hand, my fingers fumbling for the 'end' button. The screen went black. The silence that followed was so heavy it felt like it was crushing my lungs.

I stood there, chest heaving, clutching his phone like a weapon. Silas didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He just watched me with those winter-sea eyes, his expression as flat and cold as a grave.

He reached out, his long fingers plucking the phone from my grip with a slow, terrifying deliberation.

"Don't ever touch my things again, Jade," he whispered. It wasn't a shout. It was a promise.

"You are a guest here. Try to act like one."

He set his coffee cup down with a sharp clack and started toward the door. I felt two inches tall, my hands balled into fists at my sides. Just as he reached the threshold, he stopped. He didn't turn around, but I could see the tension in his shoulders.

"I expect you at the dining table at 6:00 PM sharp for our first tutoring session," he said, his voice dropping to a low, melodic vibration.

"Your parents were quite clear—they don't want you failing under the watch of your big brother. And I find I’m very good at making people meet my expectations."

"Silas, wait—I don't need—"

The heavy oak door clicked shut. He was gone, leaving me alone in a house that felt less like a home and more like a beautifully decorated cage.

**

The University was a nightmare of brick and ivy.

I spent forty minutes wandering the Humanities quad, my map blurring as my eyes welled with frustrated tears.

Silas hadn't even told me which bus to take, let alone shown me where my lectures were. He’d left me to drown in the middle of campus.

"Hey, you look like you're about to stage a one-woman protest against the architecture," a bright, melodic voice chirped behind me.

I turned to see a guy who looked like he’d been kissed by the sun. Golden-blonde hair, deep dimples, and a smile so warm it actually made me feel like I was standing on solid ground for the first time in days.

"I'm lost," I admitted, my voice small and brittle.

"I’m looking for the Accounting hall."

He grinned, tilting his head. "Wait... Jade? Silas’s sister?"

My heart skipped. "Step-sister. How did you know?"

"I’m Ezra Vance. Silas’s better half," he joked, extending a hand. His grip was warm, solid, and real.

"He mentioned you might be joining the circus this semester. I didn't realize he’d leave his star attraction to wander the wilderness. Come on, Little Miller. I’ll walk you."

Ezra was everything Silas wasn't. He was funny, he was kind, and he talked to me like I was a person, not a problem. By the time we reached my hall, he’d already made me laugh twice and we’d exchanged numbers.

"If Silas gets too broody at home, just text me," Ezra said, winking as he backed away. "I’m the only one who knows how to handle him. See ya, Jade."

6:00 PM arrived like a death sentence.

The silence in the dining room was thick, broken only by the rhythmic scritch-scratch of Silas’s fountain pen against his legal pad.

I kept my head down, staring at the blurred lines of my textbook until my eyes ached. My phone, tucked into the hem of my shorts under the table, vibrated against my skin.

“Hiii love, this is Ezra. Hope the Bio lecture didn't kill you!” I shifted my weight, trying to sneak a glance at the screen. Just one second. Just one tap to feel like I wasn't alone in this cold, hollow house.

The scratching of the pen stopped.

I froze. I didn't look up, but I could feel his gaze. It was ice-cold, tracking the precise moment my shoulders hunched in guilt.

"Jade."

His voice was a low, smooth baritone. It sounded like velvet wrapped around a razor blade.

"I'm reading, Silas," I whispered, my fingers tightening on the edge of the table.

"No, you're vibrating," he corrected. He put his pen down with a soft clack that made me flinch.

"And since I’ve already taken your door, your privacy, and your car keys... I wonder what’s left for me to take that will finally make you focus."

He stood up. He didn't rush. Silas never rushed. He walked around the table, his footsteps heavy and deliberate on the hardwood.

He stopped right behind my chair. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of expensive espresso and cedarwood clouding my senses.

He leaned down, his chest brushing against my back, his arms coming around me to rest his large, tan hands on the table on either side of my book. He boxed me in.

"Give it to me," he breathed against my ear. His lips were so close they grazed the shell of my ear, sending a traitorous shiver down my spine.

"Give you what?" I tried to sound brave. I failed miserably.

"The phone, Jade. The one currently burning a hole in your leg because some boy is telling you what he wants to do to you."

He shifted, his hand moving from the table to my lap. He didn't grab it. He just let his fingers graze the hem of my shorts—a slow, possessive crawl that made my breath hitch in my throat.

"I'm your tutor, remember?" He nipped at my earlobe—not a kiss, but a sharp, painful reminder of who owned the room. "And I think it's time for a private lesson on consequences."

He pulled the phone from under me, his eyes dark and unreadable as he looked at Ezra's name on the glowing screen.

Then, without breaking eye contact with me, he reached for his glass of water and dropped the phone inside.

Splash.

"Now," Silas whispered, his hand sliding up to grip the back of my neck, forcing me to look up at him.

"Since you have so much extra energy tonight... let's talk about why you haven't finished Chapter Four, Sun Flower."