CHAPTER 30
**WINTER**
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Zion interrupts, his eyes flashing with barely contained rage. “She’s not my fuc*ing sister, and she never will be.”
Jenny fixed Zion with a steely, unwavering gaze, her posture rigid and commanding. Her tone shifted into what could only be described as her authoritative "dad voice," a blend of sternness and authority that brooked no argument. Her eyes, sharp and focused, held him in place as if demanding respect and compliance.
"Zion, it seems there’s been a misunderstanding," Jenny said, her voice carrying a steely edge. She fixed him with an unyielding stare, her eyes piercing through him with a firmness that left no room for argument.
"We’re not asking you; we’re telling you. You will look after Winter while we’re gone."
Her tone was firm.
“I expect you to look after Winter,” she said with a commanding edge. “Show her around and maybe try to rekindle your old friendship. Remember how close you used to be? Maybe you can find your way back to that.”
Zion’s lips curled into a sarcastic grin as he replied, “Oh. I’ll be the perfect tour guide and best friend. Can’t wait to relive the glory days.”
Jenny’s expression tightened, clearly unimpressed by Zion's sarcasm. “I’m serious, Zion,” she said firmly. “This isn’t a joke. I expect you to step up and do this. It’s important.” She gave him a stern look, hoping to convey the gravity of her request.
I was being left alone with someone who despised me and seemed to have an anger problem that was only directed at me. Why couldn't anyone else see what I was seeing?
Zion's eyes locked onto me with a bitter edge.
"She’s old enough to take care of herself. Isn’t that right, Winter?" His tone was laced with disdain, but I kept my face impassive, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. The tension between us was palpable, and I couldn't help but wonder what he might do if left alone with me in this house. His hostility was obvious, and I had no intention of getting caught up in his vendetta against me.
"It's fine, Jenny," I replied, putting on a brave face. "I can handle things myself. I don't need anyone babysitting me," I added, casting a pointed glance at Zion.
Jenny sighed deeply, her frustration evident.
"I know you can, dear, but—" She turned back to Zion, her expression hardening.
“There, see? She doesn’t need me!” Zion declared, though his eyes flashed me with irritation.
Now what did I do?
"Zion, I’m not kidding. You need to keep an eye on Winter. If you don’t, there will be serious consequences.” Her voice was firm and unwavering, each word carrying the weight of her concern and the gravity of her command.
Zion's eyes gleamed with a dark satisfaction as he finally spoke.
“Okay fine, I’ll keep an eye on her,” he said, his lips curling into a sinister grin. The malevolence in his gaze made me shiver, and I felt a flush creeping up my neck and cheeks despite my attempts to stay composed. His promise sounded more like a threat, and I silently vowed to avoid any situation where I’d need his “protection.”
The thought of him sneaking into my room while I slept, with Jenny and Dad just a few steps away, chilled me to the core.
What might he do when they were gone?
The mere thought of it made my skin crawl.
Before anyone could respond, Zion turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving a heavy silence in his wake. I figured the best way to handle him was to keep my distance. No friction meant fewer problems, and maybe we could manage to coexist peacefully until our parents returned.
Jenny offered me a comforting smile.
“I’ve got a flight to catch, and your dad is already waiting in the car. I’m confident Zion will be fine. He can be a bit temperamental, but don’t let it get to you. He’ll come around.” She gave me a brief hug and a gentle kiss on the cheek before making her way out.
I stood in the entryway, my feet feeling like they were glued to the floor. The house felt eerily quiet now, with Dad already gone and Mom thousands of miles away. The loneliness was almost unbearable.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and despite my efforts to keep them at bay, they spilt over, refusing to be contained.
As I tried to steady my breath, a deep voice rumbled near my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. His scent—citrusy and clean with a hint of soap—washed over me. I spun around, hastily wiping my tears.
“What’s sad?” I croaked, struggling to mask the emotion in my voice.
He studied me with a mix of amusement and curiosity, as though he were trying to delve into the depths of my soul and uncover my hidden secrets.
No, I won’t let him see my vulnerabilities, the fragile state I’m in, or how close I am to falling apart. He moved in closer, his solid chasing against mine, effectively cornering me. His sculpted physique and undeniable allure made it impossible to look away. He intended to intimidate, and he succeeded easily with his imposing height and muscle mass.
Yet, amid the fear, something else began to stir—a curious warmth spreading through my core. I found myself tilting my head back, forced to meet his gaze.
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