The Incest

Chapter Four

Cora’s POV

After Xavier disappeared into the study, I stood there way too long, brain screaming run, but my feet stuck like they were superglued to the marble. My pulse was still thrashing, my shoulders hot where his hands had been. Ugh. f**k. No thanks. Delete. Control-alt-f*****g-delete.

I peeled myself away and bolted down the hall, choosing random doors like a mouse in a cheese maze until I stumbled outside onto a terrace.

Air. Real air.

It hit me sharp and cool, full of roses and damp earth, so different from the suffocating wax-polish smell inside. For the first time since moving into this monstrosity of a house, I could breathe without feeling like some chandelier was watching me.

I dropped onto the stone step, hugging my knees, letting the sunlight splash across my face. The garden stretched out all trimmed and perfect, fountains bubbling like background music in a spa commercial. It was so stupidly pretty that I almost hated it. Like the universe was mocking me.

Look, Cora, you live in a fairy tale now. Aren’t you so f*****g lucky?

Spoiler: I didn’t feel lucky. I felt like a guest in someone else’s dream.

The sliding door behind me creaked. My stomach clenched. Please not Xavier again. Please not round two.

But it wasn’t him.

It was Mom.

“Cora,” she said softly, her heels clicking against the stone. She had that glow again, the one she always got when she was happy. And she was glowing a lot these days.

I tried to smile. Managed a crooked one. “Hey.”

She sat beside me, tucking her skirt under her legs like she’d done this a hundred times. Like she belonged here.

“I know it’s… overwhelming.” Her voice was gentle, testing.

“Overwhelming?” I snorted. “Try terrifying. I got lost just looking for the kitchen. I swear I passed a hallway that looked like f*****g Narnia.”

She laughed — really laughed. And just like that, a knot loosened in my chest.

“You’ll get used to it,” she promised. “You’ll find your way.”

I wanted to believe her. Really, I did. But the chandeliers and the velvet and the maids-that-vanish-into-air didn’t exactly scream home to me.

Instead of saying that, I leaned my head on her shoulder, like I used to when it was just the two of us in our crappy apartment, eating ramen on the couch and pretending bills didn’t exist.

For a minute, it was quiet. Just us.

And for the first time since stepping into this mansion, I felt… okay. Not great. Not at home. But okay. Which, honestly, was enough.

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Mom left a little later, swept away by some phone call. She kissed the top of my head before she went, which was so sweet it made my throat ache. Then she was gone, heels clicking, hair perfect, already fluent in this world of marble and gold.

Me? I stayed outside until the sun started burning my legs through my jeans. Then, because apparently I like pain, I decided to “explore.”

Big mistake.

This house wasn’t a house. It was a f*****g theme park. Every hall was endless, lined with creepy portraits and carpets so thick I kept expecting to sink and disappear.

The first door I opened? Bowling alley. I s**t you not. Shiny lanes, neon lights, the whole deal.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered. “They’ve got chandeliers and strike balls? What the fuck.”

I rolled a ball, purely out of spite. It knocked down exactly two pins, echoed like thunder, and I sprinted out before someone caught me.

The next door? Music room. Actual grand piano, cello, violins stacked like art pieces. I pressed one piano key. The sound was so dramatic it felt like I’d just summoned Dracula. I noped right out.

And then came the library.

Holy s**t. It was the size of a Barnes & Noble. Shelves to the ceiling, spiral staircase, even one of those sliding ladders you only see in Disney movies.

“Okay,” I whispered. “This is… cool. I’ll give them this one.”

I grabbed a random leather book, dragged it to a chair, and flopped down. It smelled like dust and regret. I flipped it open, trying to channel Belle from Beauty and the Beast.

Two pages in—

“You’re in my spot.”

I jumped so hard I almost dropped the book on my foot.

Of course.

Of f*****g course.

Xavier.

Leaning against the shelf like a magazine cover, arms crossed, hair a perfect mess. Smirk already in place.

“Do you live to sneak up on me?” I snapped.

His mouth curved. “Do you live to break into every room you find?”

“It’s a library,” I shot back. “Not Fort Knox. I didn’t know you had assigned seating.”

He sauntered closer and dropped into the chair opposite mine, stretching out like he owned it. His legs took up way too much space. His watch caught the light. Everything about him screamed effortless rich-boy menace.

“Most people don’t come in here,” he said.

“Yeah, well, most people don’t eat ice cream for breakfast, but here we are.”

His eyes glinted. “Still thinking about that?”

My face went nuclear. “Nope.”

“Sure,” he drawled, pulling an apple from—seriously, where the f**k did he keep getting apples? Did he have an orchard stashed in his pockets?

I buried my face in the book. Problem: the thing was upside down.

Fuck.

He noticed. Of course he noticed. His smirk widened.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m a fantastic liar,” I muttered, flipping the book right side up. Smooth. Totally smooth.

He bit into his apple slowly, juice glinting on his lip for half a second before his tongue flicked it away. My eyes betrayed me, following the motion, and I wanted to throw the book at my own face.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked lightly.

“Jeez, you’re insufferable.”

“And you’re obvious.”

I snapped the book shut. “Don’t you have something better to do? A motorcycle to polish? A devil’s bargain to sign?”

He chuckled — low, warm, annoyingly attractive. “This is better.”

I groaned and shoved the book back onto the table. My hands were sweating. My brain was buzzing. And the worst part? I couldn’t even tell if I hated it.

For a long second, we just sat there, the silence stretching, his gaze heavy on me. It wasn’t just smugness now. It was something else, something sharp and unreadable that made my stomach twist.

I stood up too fast. “Okay. I’m leaving.”

“Running already?”

“I’m not running.” My voice cracked. f**k. “I just don’t want to catch your asshole disease.”

He laughed — really laughed this time, head tilted back, the sound rich and rough. It sent heat straight to my ears.

I stormed out, muttering curses under my breath.

Back in my room, I collapsed onto the bed again, silk sheets slippery as ever, brain replaying everything.

The mansion was still too big. The family was still too perfect. The secrets were still lurking.

But somewhere between Mom’s laugh, the garden sunlight, and Xavier’s maddening smirk, something inside me had shifted.

I wasn’t okay, not really. But maybe just maybe I could survive this place.

At least for now.