UNRAVEL ME

CHAPTER 1: LEVERAGE

POV: d**k Hawthorne

“Hey! Come clean up my room.”

The words came out sharper than I meant them to. Not that I cared. If Grey wanted to lounge on my stairs like he owned the place, he could at least earn his keep.

He didn’t even look up from that damn book. Perched on the top step, half in my space, half in his, acting like silence made him untouchable.

“I’m not a maid,” he said, flat and infuriatingly bored.

Something in my chest twisted.

“My father married your mother. He took you in when she died. That doesn’t make this your house.”

That did it. He snapped the book shut, stood up fast, tried to brush past me like I wasn’t worth the argument.

Not happening.

I stepped into his path before he could get two feet away. Watched his jaw tighten. He hated being cornered. Good.

“Move,” he said, like I was some employee he could dismiss.

I didn’t move.

Instead I closed the distance. Close enough to see the way his eyes flicked to my mouth before jerking back up. Close enough that if I dropped my voice, no one else would hear.

“You don’t hate having me this close. Admit it.”

His expression didn’t change. Of course it didn’t. Grey never gave me anything easy.

“You’re insufferable,” he said.

I smirked.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“You might as well admit you want me out of your hair,” I added, arms folded. Then, it was quieter, because I knew it would get under his skin: “Or in your bed.”

He didn’t flinch. He stepped forward instead, closing the gap until I could see the fleck of green in his hazel eyes. Smelled his cologne—something clean and expensive that didn’t belong in this house.

“Girlfriend first,” he said, voice low. “You’d need her permission before you got any ideas.”

As if Mel was a shield. As if saying her name would make me step back.

It almost worked.

“Interesting how quick you are to bring her up when you’re rattled,” he murmured, lips barely a breath from mine.

I caught myself before I moved back. Too late. He saw it.

“What’s wrong with you?” I snapped. “I’m not into men.”

He tilted his head, studying me like I was a problem he was enjoying.

“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about, do you?”

My jaw clenched.

“You’re insufferable,” I muttered. The truth slipped out before I could stop it. “You’re pretty.”

God. The word tasted like ash.

“You could make even the most resolute person second-guess themselves. Not that it matters. I’ve got someone who can handle me just fine.”

He just smiled. Small, infuriating, knowing.

“Does your girlfriend know how flustered you get around your stepbrother?”

That was it.

“You really think you’re all that, huh?” I said, voice low and rough. “You’re just infuriatingly attractive. And with a build like that, it’s no wonder people misread you. I’m done here. I’m not wasting another minute on this.”

I turned away before I said something worse. Before I did something worse.

“Screw you!”

The door shook when I slammed it. Stupid. Childish.

And then I saw it. The wine stain on the rug.

“Housekeeping. Now.”

I hated having them in the main house. The east wing existed for a reason. Staff stayed where staff belonged. But I couldn’t stand looking at that stain. Couldn’t stand looking at anything that reminded me of him.

Ten minutes later the housekeeper was on her knees, scrubbing. She couldn’t get it all out.

“Replace the rug,” I said, not looking up.

---

Weekday morning. Breakfast.

I came down with Mel on my arm because of course I did. Because having her there was easier than dealing with him alone.

And there he was. Sitting like he owned the table. Eating like he had all the time in the world.

“Of course. You had to find a distraction for what I stirred up,” he said, eyes catching mine for half a second too long.

I didn’t answer.

“Good morning, Mel,” he said instead, all charm. “You look luminous today.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” she replied, smiling.

And he did. Damn him. Sharp jaw, high cheekbones, hair falling into his eyes like he’d planned it. Lean, athletic, the kind of face that made people stop talking when he walked in.

I told myself I noticed because it was a liability. Because the board noticed things like that. Because Father noticed things like that.

Breakfast was hell.

I could feel his eyes on me every time I looked away. Could feel him waiting.

Then his foot brushed my shin under the table. Light. Deliberate.

I looked up. He was watching me, smiling like he’d just won something. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

My grip tightened on the fork.

I didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. Not with Mel sitting right there.

He took another bite of toast, all innocence.

He was seething. No—_I_ was seething. And he knew it.

---

I pulled him aside in the hallway after. No witnesses. No Mel.

“One of these days,” I said, keeping my voice low, “you’re going to push me too far.”

He leaned in, close enough that I could feel his breath.

“Then stop letting me.”

For half a second I wanted to. Wanted to grab him, shake him, kiss him just to shut him up.

Instead I stepped back.

“Don’t mistake my restraint for weakness, Grey.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said.

---

In every story I’d read, the older one had control. The younger one resisted.

When my father married Grey’s mother and brought him into the house, I’d planned to make him hate it here. Make him leave on his own.

Somewhere along the way the dynamic flipped.

Now I was the one counting breaths, building arguments in my head, rehearsing indifference.

_Who cares if he’s infuriatingly attractive and infuriatingly perceptive?_

---

“Excuse me?”

Mel’s voice cut through my thoughts. We were in the car, heading to Hawthorne Industries.

“Nothing, Mel,” I said too fast.

“Are you envious of your brother?” she asked, casual as if she wasn’t gutting me.

“Who’s envious of that nuisance?”

She laughed.

“You clearly are. But it’s understandable. You’re charismatic in your own right. It’s just difficult not to feel overshadowed by someone who commands attention effortlessly.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mel.”

She laughed again.

“Before Grey arrived, you had the spotlight. Now you’ve got competition. He has a way of making a room go quiet when he enters. When he smiles, people notice. He’s objectively striking. It’s only natural you’d feel displaced.”

“Shut up, Mel!”

The driver flinched. I didn’t care.

“Okay! Okay!” she said, still laughing.

If only she knew.

This wasn’t envy.

His presence unraveled me.

And I hated that he knew it.

By the time we pulled up to Hawthorne Industries, I was already exhausted.

And the day hadn’t even started.

The last thing I needed was Grey at his sharpest.

And of course, that was exactly what I was going to get.