Chapter 2

The driveway to the Sterling estate curved three times before reaching the front entrance.

The white Mediterranean-style villa was flanked by two rows of palm trees, as if they were lined up to welcome me.

The butler opened the door for me, and I stepped onto the marble stairs, my skirt lifting in the breeze.

My adoptive father, Harold Sterling, stood at the entrance in a perfectly tailored suit, his smile so precise it looked measured with a ruler.

"Bella, welcome home."

He offered his hand, shook mine twice, then let go.

My adoptive mother, Margaret Sterling, stood behind him.

She wore a Chanel suit and pearl earrings, smiling warmly with narrowed eyes.

"Your room is ready, sweetheart. If you need anything, just ask the butler."

"Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling."

I nodded.

"If possible, I'd like to start school as soon as I can."

Harold raised an eyebrow.

"That eager?"

"I don't want to fall behind."

"And I'd like to get used to the pace here as soon as possible."

Margaret glanced at Harold.

They exchanged a look I couldn't be bothered to interpret.

"Of course."

"I'll have the school arrangements taken care of. You'll attend the same school as your brother."

I was about to head upstairs when a scoff came from the landing.

Alex leaned against the wall, spinning a pair of sunglasses in one hand.

His gray-blue eyes studied me from behind the lenses as if I were some kind of inconvenience.

"Well, look at the new girl."

I kept walking.

"Dad, Mom, you're seriously letting this—"

His gaze traveled up and down my body.

"This nerd live with us?"

"Alex, don't be rude."

There was a warning in Margaret's voice.

"Am I wrong?"

He came down two steps and stopped in front of me.

Alex was more than half a head taller than me, and he deliberately planted himself in the middle of the hallway.

"What's with the outfit? Thrift store?"

He sneered.

"God, that's tacky. What are you, some country girl?"

I said nothing, simply looked him over with an assessing gaze.

"Don't bother pretending. I've seen girls like you before."

He bent closer and lowered his voice.

"Pretending to be obedient. Pretending to be innocent. Pretending to be sweet when all you're thinking about is money and how to climb higher."

"You think walking through the Sterling family's front door means you've made it?"

I looked up at him.

"Are you done?"

Alex froze for a second.

"Our family needed an 'adopted daughter.' That's all."

He straightened, his voice returning to that lazy mockery.

"We're not your personal ATM. Keep your head down and know your place. Got it?"

"Got it."

"But there's one thing you seem to have misunderstood."

"What?"

"I'm not interested in your money."

I stepped around him and headed upstairs.

"See you at school, Alex."

He scoffed behind me.

I didn't bother looking back.

...

In the garden of the house diagonally across the street, Mia crouched beside a rosebush, scissors clenched in her hand.

Mrs. Vance—Judy, as she should be called—shouted from inside for Mia to trim the dead branches along the west wall.

Mia answered but didn't move.

Her eyes remained fixed on the driveway.

Alex came out for his morning run at this time every day.

Sure enough, he appeared at the end of the driveway in a white T-shirt, black shorts, and earbuds, jogging toward her at an even pace.

Sweat clung to the loose strands of hair on his forehead, and his jawline looked razor-sharp in the morning light.

Mia stood and wiped her forehead.

She disturbed a small patch of dirt and loosened her hair so a few strands fell around her face.

Then she bent over and pretended to concentrate on a crooked rosebush.

As Alex approached, he slowed down.

He pulled out one earbud and glanced at her.

"You—"

He frowned.

"Who are you? I haven't seen you before."

Mia looked up, squinting against the sunlight, and gave him a slightly embarrassed smile.

"I'm Mia Vance, sir."

"I'm helping Mrs. Judy."

She pointed to her mud-stained apron.

"These roses need the soil turned. They'll grow better that way."