April's pov
“Planning to die out here, sis?”
The voice dripped with cruel amusement.
I turned toward the sound, and there he was, sitting in the driver’s seat, one arm resting casually on the window frame.
Alpine.
My stepbrother.
His mouth curled into a mocking grin, the same one he wore the last time we met at home, when his words cut sharper than any blade. His hands gripped the steering wheel, both inked in dark, twisting tattoos that seemed to mirror the chaos in him.
He hadn’t changed.
Still cold. Still cruel.
Still the last person I wanted to see.
When I was a child, I used to listen quietly as other kids shared stories about their siblings... laughing, fighting, protecting one another. I could only sit in silence, unable to relate. I didn’t have a sibling of my own. There
