god father obsession

Chapter One: A New Last Name My life took a drastic turn the moment I heard the news—my mother was getting married again. And not just to anyone. To a man she’d only known for six months. I sat silently on the edge of the couch, the fabric scratchy against my thighs, as her words echoed through the room like distant thunder. She stood across from me, practically glowing, her hands clasped tightly like she was holding onto a dream she didn’t want to lose. She looked so happy—so alive. The kind of alive I hadn’t seen in her since Dad died. But all I felt was cold. A dull ache settled in my chest, heavy and unmoving. I wanted to scream, cry, throw something—anything—just to make her see how insane this all was. But instead, I just nodded. Because what was the point of fighting when she’d already made her choice? “You’ll love him, Faye,” she said gently, as if saying it out loud would make it true. “He’s kind… and patient. He treats me like I matter.” My throat tightened. Like Dad used to? The words burned on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them. The worst part wasn’t even the marriage. It was that we were leaving. We were packing up everything—our lives, our memories, our pain—and moving into his house. A house I’d never seen. A man I barely knew. And a future I hadn’t asked for. I stared at the half-empty boxes lining the hallway, my chest tightening with each glance. The walls still smelled faintly of my dad’s cologne. His favorite mug was still in the sink. His old hoodie was folded at the edge of my bed. Leaving this house felt like losing him all over again. But she was smiling. She deserved happiness. She deserved to start over. Even if it meant I had to let go of everything I knew. Even if it meant I had to pretend I wasn’t breaking. --- The new house was nothing like ours. It was three times the size, with marble floors that echoed beneath your footsteps, cold silver light fixtures that hummed softly above, and high walls lined with art I couldn’t recognize. It felt more like a hotel than a home. I walked slowly through the grand foyer, my shoes making soft taps against the polished tiles. A woman—maybe a housekeeper—nodded at me as she passed, offering a polite smile I didn’t return. I didn’t belong here. This place wasn’t mine. “Faye!” my mother called from the staircase, her voice too chipper for someone uprooting her life. “Come meet your new family!” New family. The words made my stomach twist. I followed her up the stairs, my grip tightening around the railing. At the top stood a tall man—my mother’s new husband. He was clean-shaven, neatly dressed, and smiling like this was the happiest day of his life. Maybe it was. “Faye,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m Thomas. I’ve heard so much about you.” I shook his hand, barely meeting his eyes. “Hi.” He laughed softly, like he understood I wasn’t ready to play happy daughter. “There’s someone else I’d like you to meet.” I turned as footsteps echoed from the hallway. Then I saw him. He leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossed, dark eyes locked on me like he’d been watching the entire time. His black shirt clung to a broad chest, sleeves rolled just enough to show a veined forearm and the edge of a tattoo. His hair was slightly tousled, like he hadn’t bothered to fix it. Everything about him screamed control… and danger. “This is my younger brother,” Thomas said. “Xavier.” Xavier didn’t move. Didn’t blink. He just stood there, gaze sharp, unreadable. And yet… I couldn’t look away. There was something in the way he watched me—quiet, intense, almost curious. Like he was peeling back layers I didn’t even know I had. “Hi,” I said quietly, unsure where to look. He stepped forward, finally breaking the stillness. Up close, he smelled like cedar and something darker—like smoke and secrets. His eyes dropped briefly to my lips, just for a second, before flicking back to my eyes. Then he smiled. Not a friendly smile. Not a polite one. But a slow, knowing smirk that made my skin prickle. “Welcome to the house, princess,” he said, voice low and smooth. “Hope you’re good at keeping secrets.” My breath caught. I opened my mouth to ask what he meant—but he was already turning away, walking down the hall like he hadn’t just shaken something loose inside me. --- Dinner was awkward. Thomas talked the entire time. My mother laughed too hard at his jokes. I barely touched my food. And Xavier? He sat at the opposite end of the long table, glass of wine in hand, silent but alert. His eyes drifted to me often—too often. I could feel the weight of his gaze on my skin like a burn. Every time I glanced up, he was already watching. Later, I excused myself early and went to my new bedroom. It was massive. Cold. Sterile. Like a room that hadn’t been lived in for years. I dropped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, my thoughts spinning like a storm. Why did he look at me like that? Why did I feel like this? He was my mother’s brother-in-law now. Practically family. This was wrong. So why did it feel like I’d just stepped into something I couldn’t escape? --- Late that night… I woke to a soft sound. Footsteps. Just outside my door. I sat up, heart pounding, straining to listen. The floor creaked once… then silence. I waited. Nothing. Then—a whisper of movement.