Chapter 23: Pulse

Kevin was across from me, looking effortlessly unbothered, his shirt sleeves rolled just enough to reveal the veins along his forearms—and God help me, I kept staring.

When my father asked if we’d settled our differences, I almost laughed. Differences? That was one way to describe the chaos between us. I opened my mouth to say something vague, something that would ease his curiosity, but Kevin got there first. “Yes,” he said, smirking like the devil himself. “We did settle our differences.” The words rolled out of his mouth so casually, so sure of themselves, and I wanted to throw my glass of orange juice at him.

I could feel Nina’s eyes flicking between us, reading every twitch, every glance. Her smile was too polite, too restrained—like she was studying us. My father, meanwhile, looked satisfied, completely unaware of the storm brewing under his own roof. He went on about the company, about legacy and image and all the weighty expectations that came with being an Anderson. His tone was full of pride, but all I could think about was how detached I felt from it all. This talk of stocks and reputations, of heirs and responsibilities—it made me feel like I was being fitted for a costume that didn’t belong to me.

Then Nina chimed in, her words perfectly measured, “We expect a solid progress as heirs of the company. Giving a good social impression is important.” She smiled at my father, then turned that same rehearsed smile on me. “At least before our actual wedding ceremony in a month’s time, I expect a rise in our stocks.”

My fork froze midway to my mouth. Wedding ceremony. Stocks. She said it like it was all one sentence, one seamless, soulless goal. I wanted to roll my eyes so badly, but instead I just forced my lips into a thin, polite smile. Kevin didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. His silence said everything—he was tuning it all out, just like I was.

Then Nina added, “We wouldn’t want to give the impression of anomaly in the household, do we?” Her tone had changed slightly, carrying a faint edge. Her eyes rested on me first, then slid slowly toward Kevin. I didn’t miss the warning in her gaze, like she knew something she wasn’t saying. My chest tightened.

My father chuckled, brushing it off. “I doubt that would be the case. They’re siblings, they’ll grow to stick out for each other.”

That word—siblings—hit me like a slap. It burned, not because it wasn’t true in the eyes of the world, but because of how wrong it felt when I looked at Kevin. Every time our eyes met, every time his voice dropped low when he spoke to me, it was like we were crossing lines that couldn’t be uncrossed.

I lowered my gaze, digging absently into my food, pretending to eat. The fork scraped softly against the plate, and I used it as a distraction. Anything to keep me from meeting his eyes again. But it was no use. I could feel him watching me. I looked up, and there he was, his gaze steady, unreadable—but intense enough to make my pulse skip. Heat pooled in my chest, low and dangerous, spreading through me like fire. I hated that I reacted to him that way. I hated that my body didn’t care about logic or right and wrong—it just wanted.

Suddenly I felt like I was suffocating. The air around me thickened, heavy with unspoken things. I couldn’t sit there any longer pretending everything was normal. “I’ll be on my way now,” I said abruptly, pushing my chair back. My voice came out softer than I wanted, almost trembling.

My father looked up, mildly surprised. “You should have finished your breakfast.”

“I’ll grab an early lunch later,” I mumbled, leaning down to kiss his cheek before I could lose my nerve.

I didn’t look at Nina. I didn’t look at Kevin either, though I could feel his eyes following me. My hands were trembling as I picked up my bag, pretending to adjust the strap just to buy myself a few seconds of composure. Every step toward the door felt heavy, like wading through water.

As soon as I stepped out of the dining room, I exhaled shakily. My heartbeat was wild, my thoughts tangled. I told myself not to turn around—but I almost did, almost looked back just to see if Kevin was still watching me. But I didn’t. Because if I did, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to leave.

So I walked faster, past the polished floors and the cold art-lined walls of the mansion, out the front doors and into the open morning light. The air outside felt sharp against my skin, grounding me just enough to keep me from falling apart. But even then, I could still feel his gaze on me like a shadow I couldn’t escape.

I could still feel his eyes on me even before I reached the car. Every step I took toward the driveway felt too heavy, too loud, like the whole world could hear the mess inside me. I just wanted to get into the car, shut the door, and breathe without him near me. But of course, Kevin came strolling out of the mansion like he had all the time in the world—looking frustratingly good, as usual, with that lazy kind of confidence that always made my chest tighten.

“Care to give me a lift?” he asked, his voice full of that smug amusement he wore like armor.

I didn’t even look at him. “No. It’d be best if we’re not in the same breathing space.”

He laughed softly under his breath. “But you’re my darling stepsister, no?” The way he said it—mocking, deliberate—made my blood boil.

“It’ll do us both some good if you’re a little nice,” he added, his tone teasing, as if last night hadn’t happened, as if he hadn’t destroyed me in the span of seconds.

I clenched my jaw, my fingers tightening on the car keys. “Go fuck yourself,” I hissed, too low for anyone else to hear but loud enough for him to catch it. Then I swung open the door, got in, and started the engine. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of another glance.

When I pulled out of the driveway, I caught a glimpse of him through the mirror, getting into his own car. I told myself I didn’t care, that he could drive off a cliff for all I cared—but the ache in my chest said otherwise. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying to push back the swirl of betrayal and longing that had been clawing at me since last night.

The morning traffic on the highway blurred around me, but of course, Kevin couldn’t just stay in his lane. Literally. His car appeared beside mine, his window rolled down, his stupid grin visible even through the glare of the sun.

“Why exactly are you mad at me?” he shouted, like it was the most absurd question in the world.

I let out a dry, bitter laugh. “Like you don’t know what you did,” I muttered under my breath.

He leaned closer to his window. “What? Can you speak a little louder? I can’t hear you!”

“I said leave me the fuck alone!” I screamed, pressing harder on the accelerator, leaving him behind in a cloud of exhaust. My heart was hammering, my throat tight, and my vision blurred for a second from the tears threatening to spill. I bit them back. No. Not again. Not for him.

By the time I got to the company, my pulse was still unsteady. I parked, grabbed my bag, and got out quickly. The building loomed above me, sleek and silver, the Anderson name etched boldly across the top like a taunt. It was supposed to symbolize legacy. To me, it just looked like another cage.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of polished wood and money. My heels clicked against the marble floor, sharp and impatient. A bodyguard started toward me, probably thinking he was being helpful.

“No, thank you,” I said quickly, brushing past him before he could offer to carry my bag. I just needed to make it to the elevator before Kevin did. I could already imagine the smug look he’d have if he caught up.

When I reached the elevator, I pressed the button so many times it probably looked ridiculous. My reflection in the shiny doors looked tired—eyes puffy from crying, makeup a little smudged. I barely recognized myself.

The doors slid open and I stepped in, jabbing the button for the top floor like my life depended on it. I was praying, silently, desperately, that I could make it up before Kevin arrived. But of course, just as the doors started to close, a hand slid between them.

And there he was.

Kevin. Smirking like he owned the air between us.

I rolled my eyes and turned my face away. The small space suddenly felt suffocating. His cologne—clean, sharp, with a trace of something darker—filled the elevator, and I hated how my body reacted to it.

“You can never escape me easily, you know,” he said softly.

I stayed silent.

“Are you ignoring me now?” he pressed, but I didn’t move, didn’t even look at him.

I could feel the shift in his energy—his jaw tightening, frustration bleeding through the cool exterior he always wore. Then, without warning, he reached out and hit the emergency stop button. The elevator jolted to a halt with a soft metallic groan.

I turned to him sharply. “Why the hell would you do that?”

His lips curved slightly. “Oh, now I get a reaction from you?”

“Don’t be unreasonable, Kevin.”

He stepped closer, his hand slamming against the iron wall beside my head, the sound echoing through the enclosed space. “What the fuck did you say?”

My breath caught. His nearness set every nerve in my body on fire. My chest heaved, and I saw his eyes flicker down, just briefly—lingering where they shouldn’t—before he dragged them back up to meet mine.

I swallowed hard, my voice trembling but sharp. “It didn’t take you much to sleep with my best friend, Sarah, and you act like nothing happened—and you expect me to be okay with that?”

The words came out harsher than I intended, but it was too late to take them back. They sliced through the air between us. For a split second, I saw guilt flash across his face, but it vanished just as quickly, replaced by something darker—something that made my stomach twist.

Then, suddenly, his hands were on my waist. Firm. Possessive.

“Kevin—”

Before I could finish, his fingers pressed into m y hips, the warmth of his touch seeping through the thin fabric of my blouse. My breath hitched.