Unexpected bond

chapter two

(Alice pov)

A few minutes later, I stepped out of my room and headed downstairs for breakfast. As I walked slowly along the hallway, my thoughts drifted to my parents—to our mornings together. How I used to peck my dad on the cheek before school, how I would hug my mom tightly before rushing out the door.

But now…

I was still lost in those memories when I suddenly collided with something solid—or so I thought.

I looked up and found myself staring at my adoptive brother’s face, blank and unreadable.

That wasn’t what caught my attention, though.

It was his features—his perfectly pointed nose, full brows, long lashes, sharp jawline, and his eyes… those eyes that had captivated me from the moment I stepped into this house. Murky green, the same shade Uncle Shedrak had. A color that clearly ran in the Livingston family.

He stood there, staring at me with quiet indifference, while I found myself trapped in his gaze.

I quickly snapped back to reality, realizing what I was doing. Stepping back, I lowered my eyes and apologized awkwardly.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you,” I muttered.

“You should stop thinking too much while walking,” he said calmly. “You might trip and fall.”

His tone was flat, unreadable.

“Mom asked me to check on you so we can have breakfast,” he added before turning around and walking away.

I stood there for a moment, my heart pounding, watching his retreating figure—confused by how someone so distant could make me feel so aware all at once.

Breakfast passed in silence, as it usually did. Uncle and Auntie occasionally engaged in light conversation, but I couldn’t help but notice how distant the atmosphere felt. “Alice, I have something to discuss with you,” Uncle Shedrak said, pulling my attention away from my plate.

I looked up to meet his gaze. “Do you have any plans for your family business?” he asked, voicing a question that had been weighing heavily on my mind for a while now.

My father, Steven Johnson, owned a chain of restaurants. Even after my parents’ death, I wasn’t ready to let go of it. That business was the last tangible connection I had to my family, the only piece of them still alive in this world. I wanted to protect it, nurture it, and see it thrive—to make my parents proud, wherever they were. I knew they were watching me.

Summoning what little courage I had, I finally spoke.

“Uncle, I’ve thought about it,” I said softly. “I don’t want to lose our family business. So I was hoping you’d help me by keeping it under your control for now—until I’m ready to take over.”

Talking about it stirred memories of my parents, tightening my chest with sadness, but I forced a small smile to stay composed.

Uncle Shedrak studied me in silence, his gaze lingering as though he were searching my face for something I couldn’t quite understand. After a moment, he released a quiet sigh.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked gently.

I nodded. “I am.”

After a brief pause, he nodded in agreement. Knowing that Uncle owned a vast empire of his own, I felt reassured that the business would be in capable hands for the time being.

With that settled, we returned to our breakfast in silence. Soon after, Uncle stood up, adjusting his coat as he prepared to leave for work, I quietly watched him hoping I made the right decision and I would be able to manage the business in the future.Once we finished, Auntie unexpectedly told me she would be the one to drop me off at school. I tried to protest, suggesting that the driver could take me instead, but she was firm in her decision, refusing to relent.

Not able to argue with my aunty any further i let her accompany me to the school

‎"You’ll be fine," she reassured me, her tone leaving no room for argument. She made sure everything was arranged, When she was certain everything had been sorted with the school, she left me standing by the entrance, her presence lingering only as a memory.

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‎Entering the classroom, I found a teacher who introduced me to the class. She pointed to an empty desk near the back. Hesitant, I walked towards it, my movements awkward under the weight of the stares from my new classmates.

‎Just as I settled into my seat, a girl with soft brown hair and eye turned to me with a warm smile.

‎"Hi, I’m Amanda Reynolds," she said, her voice gentle and inviting.

‎"Nice to meet you," I replied, forcing a smile despite the nerves tightening my chest. Her desk was directly in front of mine, which felt oddly reassuring.

‎As the teacher continued with the lesson, Amanda and I both focused on the board, but my mind wandered between the unfamiliar faces and the sinking feeling of being out of place.

‎When the bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Amanda stood up and offered a friendly smile. "I’ll help you catch up on everything you missed," she said, as if she could tell I was feeling lost.

‎I followed her, grateful for the kindness in her voice. She guided me through the material, making the transition a little easier. By the time the school day ended, the driver arrived to take me home, and I felt a little less alone in this new world.

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(Alexander’s POV)

I sat in the driver’s seat, lazily steering my Aston Martin through the morning traffic while my so-called adoptive sister occupied the passenger seat beside me. We were silent—our kind of silence. The familiar, heavy one that always settled whenever it was just the two of us.

The car was eerily quiet, broken only by the low hum of the engine. Alice stared out the window, her gaze fixed on nothing in particular. I knew she was deliberately avoiding conversation, and for that, I was grateful. I had never been much of a talker—especially not with her.

I had never really considered Alice my sister. To me, she was an outsider, someone who had been inserted into my family without my consent. From the very first day they brought her home, something about her irritated me. I couldn’t explain why—only that I never liked her.

Maybe it was the way she always acted sweet and cheerful, even when it was obvious she wasn’t. Or how vulnerable she was, trying so desperately to hide it behind smiles and forced brightness. Or how she kept trying to involve herself in our lives, as though she truly belonged. I never told her outright that I didn’t like her—there was no need to. She knew. She always had. And she knew I never would.

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