Chapter 1
Elena’s POV
“You two big kids, go sort out those boxes in the attic storage room labeled ‘Fragile’!”
Father’s gruff voice boomed from the bottom of the stairs, punctuated by the heavy breathing that accompanied his heavy lifting.
Father’s sudden job change had forced us to move into this old rusty house yesterday.
The air reeked of accumulated mildew and the damp rot of wooden floors, each step accompanied by a teeth-grinding “creak.”
“Got it, Dad,” I responded with as much reluctance as I could muster, clutching the hem of my loose-fitting t-shirt, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.
What I truly loathed wasn’t the work itself, but the man standing next to me – a towering, ice-cold wall of imposing muscle – my stepbrother, Xander.
Ever since his mother married my father, there’d been a barrier of unyielding ice between us.
Xander was simply too damn big, easily over six feet tall, and years of intense athletic training had sculpted his back and shoulders into something terrifyingly broad.
Beneath a head of slightly wavy dark hair was a handsome face that always seemed to be etched with mockery and coldness when directed at me.
“Don’t dawdle, blonde bimbo, get in there,” Xander spat out, his voice dripping with contempt.
Without even glancing at me, he turned sideways and plunged headfirst into the cramped attic storage room.
The storage room was worse than I’d imagined.
No light fixtures, just a faint sliver of light spilling in from the hallway.
To make matters worse, the narrow space was crammed with heavy cardboard boxes stacked almost to the ceiling.
Once I’d managed to squeeze inside, it became impossible to keep distance from Xander.
My back pressed against the cold wall, and my arms and thighs brushed against Xander’s faded gray sweatshirt with every breath I took.
The scent of his mature male hormones, a mix of sweat and a hint of mint, instantly enveloped me, making my heart skip a beat for no reason.
“Move back, you’re blocking me from moving the boxes,” Xander grunted impatiently, his voice sounding deeper in the confined space.
“I’m literally pressed against the wall, are you blind?” I retorted through gritted teeth, desperately trying to shrink further into the gap between the boxes, just to avoid getting too close to him.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed from outside, followed by a loud “bang!” as the wooden door was either caught by the wind or accidentally pushed from the outside.
Absolute darkness descended.
“Damn it!” Xander cursed.
I heard him shove aside the cardboard boxes in front of him and stride to the door, yanking hard on the handle.
But with a screech of metal grinding against metal, the old, rusted latch remained stubbornly locked in place.
“Kevin! Vida! The door’s stuck!” Xander yelled, his large, calloused hand pounding on the thick wooden door.
Soon, the hurried voices of my father and stepmother, Vida, filtered through the door: “Xander? Elena? Are you in there? Damn it, this old house has a sticky lock, I’ll go downstairs and get the spare key from the toolbox, give us five minutes!”
Five minutes.
My scalp began to crawl, and my stomach clenched.
My damn claustrophobia was about to explode.
“Elena? Why are you breathing so heavily?” Xander noticed my distress, his voice a little muffled in the darkness.
Before I could answer, perhaps it was the vibration from Xander’s pounding on the door, or perhaps the boxes had simply been stacked too precariously.
A cacophony of cardboard friction erupted from above, and a huge shadow, accompanied by a gust of wind, crashed down towards me!
“Watch out!”
In that instant, Xander’s strong arm shot up, shielding my head, his wide, solid forearm taking the brunt of the falling heavy cardboard box.
“Ugh…” I heard Xander grunt in pain in the darkness.
His hard chest slammed into my body, the force of the impact sending me stumbling against him.
“Xander! Are you okay?” Fear and panic washed over me.
The humid, cramped, dark environment felt like an invisible hand clamped around my throat.
I began to thrash wildly in Xander’s arms, desperately trying to escape the suffocating space.
“Shut up, Elena! Stop moving!” Xander growled.
His muscular arms wrapped around my waist like a chain, forceful and unyielding.
My back was pressed against his chest, crushing against his solid pecs without the slightest gap.
In the enclosed, dark storage room, I could clearly hear my parents rummaging for tools and calling out from beyond the door.
The temperature in the air began to skyrocket.
I gasped for air, the back of my head seared by the heat emanating from him.
His hand gently patted my back, and I felt the tension begin to ease.
But something felt...off, because Xander’s fingers had slipped beneath the hem of my shirt, brushing against the skin of my waist in a light caress.
