Billionaire Step Brother

"Mom, why are we moving?" I kept asking my mother, my voice trembling with uncertainty. "Aren't you happy in Makati?" Makati was a world away from Canada, the place I called home for most of my life. But now, in my senior year, as I stared out of the window of my mother's old car, I couldn't help but wonder how this challenging year in New York would unfold. The question gnawed at me—how had we come to leave our home behind? It had been three long months since the earth-shattering news hit me, reducing my 18-year-old self to a bewildered 14-year-old. I couldn't fathom why we were embarking on this new journey. My mom had always been in charge, and despite nearing my 19th birthday, it felt like I might never truly become an adult in her eyes. She had this stubborn belief that the age of freedom was 21. “Mom, I think staying in our Hometown would make us happy—” "Can you please stop asking? You're getting on my nerves," my mother snapped as she turned the key in the ignition. "Well, Mom, lots of things you do get on my nerves, and I have to put up with them," I replied, frustration evident in my tone. Her loud sigh was all too familiar, hardly surprising anymore. Ten years had passed since my parents' tumultuous divorce. It was anything but amicable. I thought I had moved on from those dark times, or at least I was trying to. Why was my mom putting me through this again? Did she not care about my feelings? She claimed she did, but leaving my beloved Hometown was a heart-wrenching prospect. Change wasn't my strong suit, and the thought of spending all my time with two virtual strangers filled me with anxiety that threatened to consume me. My mom was American, and my dad was half-Filipino. I had heard my grandmother mention how the language barrier had been a challenge in their love story. Strangely, I had never learned my native language, but my friend was helping me slowly bridge that gap. “Mom, just leave me there,” I pleaded. "I still can't understand why you won't let me stay," I reasoned, desperately hoping she'd see things from my perspective. “Stop, Heather,” I sensed her frustration. “You can't even cook a simple sunny-side-up egg.” “Mom!” I hissed. Cooking a sunny-side-up egg without breaking or sticking it to the pan was more challenging than it sounded. "I don't want to miss your last year in senior high school," my mother said earnestly. "I want to cherish my time with my daughter before she ventures off to college. You're my child, and I want you to be part of this complete family with a mother, a father, and your new siblings. Do you think I'm going to let you go so far away from me?" Her eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. “Mom! I am eighteen, and Dad was there!” My voice rose as my heart wrestled with the painful reality of our destination. "Most of my friends and classmates have already separated from their parents, found part-time jobs, and are savoring their independence. Meanwhile, I'm still dependent on you." “Life is not as easy as you think it is, Heather.” My mother couldn't seem to grasp how difficult this was for me. She was starting afresh with a new husband she claimed to love, but what about me? Did I ever have a say in this matter? Did she believe that everything would magically become a fairytale because she chose to remarry? "You don't get it, Mom. Did you ever consider that this is my final year at UP University, where all my friends are, where Loui, my boyfriend, is, where my job and my team are? It's my entire life!" I exclaimed, struggling to hold back tears. I had never cried in front of anyone, believing it to be a sign of weakness. I had vowed never to shed another tear. As I reminisced, my mind wandered back to the moment it all unraveled. I regretted not joining my mom on that beach trip, the trip where she had crossed paths with Cartner Stanfield. If I could turn back time, I'd have accepted her offer of those two tickets back in April. They were a gift from her friend, Alice, who couldn't go due to a conflict with her husband over an affair. It was mid-April, and I had finals in a tennis competition. Now, knowing the repercussions of staying home, I'd willingly surrender my trophy, depart from the team, and even risk failing English Lit and Spanish just to prevent that wedding from happening. Getting married on a beach? She only met that guy one day, and by the time she returned, she was already married. How unbelievable is that? My mom must have been out of her mind! She didn't even inform me about it. I found out when she got back, and she casually mentioned marrying a millionaire during her unplanned trip, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. The entire situation felt surreal, and now she wants to relocate to a mansion in New York, in a country that isn't even my own. I was born in Canada, although my mom is from Texas, my dad is from Colorado, and his hometown was in Manila, Philippines. We moved to the Philippines two years ago, where I made new friends and met my boyfriend Loui. My dad and mom are always arguing about some piece of paperwork. Even though they are already separated, Mom decided I'd study here only until my senior year. I don't recall much about my dad from when I was little, which is rather peculiar, but we meet about one to two days a month, and I don't understand why Mom doesn't want to see Dad. "Now, you have to understand that I want what's best for you," my mother said, trying to bring me back to reality. "You know what we've been through. I've finally found a good man who understands and respects me. I need him, and I know you'll come to love him too. He can offer you a future we could never have dreamed of. You can go to any college you like, Heather." “Well, I'm happy for you, but now get me a life since you have your own,” I replied, shivering as I thought about starting at a new fancy high school full of rich kids by the end of the month. "Well, you belong to my life, Heather," she answered. "No, Mom! You don’t understand. I don't want to go to some expensive University, and I don't want a stranger paying for it," I protested. "He's not a stranger; he's my husband, and you better get used to the idea," she added firmly. "I'm never going to accept that idea," I declared, looking away from her and out the window. My mother sighed again, and I wished the conversation would just end. I didn't want to continue talking. "I get that you're going to miss Loui and your friends, Heather, but look on the bright side—you're going to have a brother!" she exclaimed. I turned to her with a weary expression. "Please don't try to sell this like something it's not." "You're going to love him, though. Zack is a sweetheart," she told me, smiling as she gazed down the highway. "He's mature, responsible, and he's probably dying to introduce you to all his friends. Every time I've been there and he's around, he's stayed in his room studying or reading a book. You might even have the same tastes." "Yeah, right. I'm sure he's crazy about sexy girls around there," I rolled my eyes. "How old is he again?” I knew, of course; all my mother had talked about for months was him and Will. It was ironic that for some reason Zack had never managed to find time to introduce himself to me.