Love In War ( English Version)

Chapter 1

"Brie, are you done?"

I turned toward the door and saw Mommy waiting for me. I took one last look around my room, letting the memories I shared with my father flood my mind. This room… this bed… those curtains. I must not forget any of it.

"Hi, Princess! What’s wrong? Your mom told me you didn’t eat lunch. Did your crush, Rico, reject you again?"

I rolled out of my blanket at his teasing.

"Dad, Rico is not my crush—and he’s gay," I said with a pout.

He feigned a gasp and covered his mouth dramatically. "Oh, he’s gay?"

I nodded quickly.

"But I saw you kiss him—"

"Daaaaaaad!" I yelled, hiding my face under the blanket again, frustrated by his playful antics. He was making things up just to make me talk! Hmp! Even now, he insists I have a crush on Rico just because he thought I kissed him on my 11th birthday, even though I was only whispering something to him.

Well, I do have a crush, but it’s definitely not Rico. And I’m not about to tell Dad about it. He’s way too good at teasing.

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Alright, you didn’t kiss Rico. So, tell me, how can I make my princess happy?”

I immediately got up and kissed Dad on the cheek.

“You really are the most handsome daddy in the world! Can you convince Mom to let me sleep over at Rhianne’s house? Pleaseeeeee!” I showered him with kisses. “Mwah! Mwah! Mwah! I love you, Dad!”

His laughter boomed as he kissed me on the forehead. “You’re so good at sweet-talking. You really are my child. I love you more, my princess!”

Tears threatened to fall, but I held them back. I was tired of crying. I didn’t want to leave this place—it was my sanctuary, full of memories of the happy family I once had. But I had to leave now, for Mom and for our future.

I hugged the photo album Dad had given me before he passed away. "I will never forget this place," I whispered to myself. "Someday, I’ll come back here."

"Ma’am Tasha, Sir Emanuel is asking you both to come down now," called Yaya Millet.

“Come on, Brie, we have to go now! Your Daddy Emanuel is here to pick us up.”

I wanted to correct Mommy about the "Daddy Emanuel" part, but she had already turned to go downstairs. Before following her, I clutched the photo album tightly to my chest.

When I reached the living room, I saw Tito Emanuel talking to Mom. They both looked at me as I entered.

“Brielle, my daughter... you look beautiful, just like your mother. I’m sure you’re excited to see your new house and meet your brother, Ruiji.”

No, I’m not.

I still felt lost. It seemed like only yesterday we were mourning Dad’s death. And now here we are, with my "new dad." Tito Emanuel wasn’t a bad person—he was just strict and serious—but I still couldn’t bring myself to call him "Dad" or "Papa," even though he and Mom were now married.

No one could ever replace my real Dad.

I managed a faint smile and greeted Tito with a respectful gesture of blessing. As I looked at him, I couldn’t help but compare him to Dad. They were opposites in every way—personality, behavior, even physical appearance. Tito Emanuel was handsome, stoic, and mysterious. But Dad? He was charming, warm, and always smiling.

I still couldn’t understand why Mom chose Tito Emanuel. If she’d married Tito Rain, Dad’s best friend, I might’ve understood. Tito Rain had the same cheerful personality as Dad. But it wasn’t my place to question her decisions. If Tito Emanuel made her happy, then I’d support her.

I had witnessed how deeply Mom mourned Dad’s death. She cried for months and nearly fell into depression. She had to work two jobs just to keep us afloat and to make sure I could stay in school. Then Tito Emanuel came into her life, helping her move on.

Mom moved on.

But what about me?

"Brielle? Hey, honey, are you okay?" Mom’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I looked up to see her already out of the car with Tito Emanuel by her side. Glancing around, I realized we had arrived at our new home. Slowly, I stepped out of the car.

From a distance, I could see a sprawling garden filled with sunflowers and other vibrant flowers. My jaw dropped as we walked closer to the enormous black-and-white luxury house.

This wasn’t just a house—it was a mansion.

I felt a pang of anxiety. What if my stepbrother didn’t accept me? What if he resented me because my mom had replaced his? I didn’t expect him to welcome me with open arms. After all, I didn’t even know how to adjust to this new life—new family, new house, new school.

“Emanuel, where’s Ruiji? Is he still at school?” Tito asked someone who looked like the head servant.

“He’s already home, Señor. He might still be changing—oh, here he is now.”

I followed everyone’s gaze toward the staircase and saw a tall, fair-skinned guy descending. His face was adorned with multiple piercings, giving him a bad-boy aura. He had brownish hair, slightly chinky eyes, and thick eyebrows. He looked two or three years older than me—a younger version of his father, but with an edgier vibe.

“Ruiji, I want you to meet your sister, Talia Brielle.”