Chapter 3 – Step-Princess

LILA

Dinner in the Hayes mansion wasn’t just dinner. It was an event.

The long dining table stretched so far I almost expected to see a butler roll down it on wheels just to serve the far end. A chandelier glittered above, throwing warm golden light across the polished wood. Every place setting gleamed—crystal glasses, heavy silver cutlery, plates so white I was afraid to touch them.

I had eaten a lot of dinners with my mom growing up. Most of them were takeout containers on the couch, or a pan of spaghetti shared straight from the stove. Comfort food, simple and warm. This? This looked like something out of a royal documentary.

I smoothed the hem of my sweater over my thighs as I sat down. My mom sat to my right, glowing with that soft, dreamy smile she’d worn since marrying Richard. Across from her was Richard himself, tall in his chair, posture straight and commanding even in a simple shirt. He made small talk with Mom, their laughter filling the cavernous dining room.

And then there was Ryder.

He strolled in late, of course. Shirt unbuttoned at the top, tattoos peeking out like he couldn’t be bothered to hide them. His hair was a mess, his jaw shadowed with stubble that somehow made him look older than twenty-three. He dropped into the chair across from me with a bored expression, sprawling like the table belonged to him.

His eyes found mine almost immediately. Steel-gray. Unapologetic.

I looked away too quickly, pretending to be fascinated with the sparkling water the maid poured into my glass.

“So,” Richard said, his voice warm but commanding, “how are you settling in, Lila?”

I swallowed, nerves catching in my throat. “It’s… beautiful here. A little overwhelming, but I’m grateful.”

“Overwhelming,” Ryder muttered, picking up his fork. “That’s one word for it.”

Richard shot him a sharp look. “Ryder.”

“What? I’m agreeing,” he said with a shrug, eyes flicking back to me. “Not everyone’s used to living in a castle. Takes some getting used to, right, princess?”

The fork slipped in my hand, clattering against my plate. My stomach clenched.

Princess.

He said it so smoothly, the word dripping with mockery, the exact same tone he’d used that morning in the hallway. Except now my mom and his father were sitting right there.

My cheeks burned as I forced a tight smile. “It’s… different,” I said softly, refusing to rise to his bait.

Ryder leaned back in his chair, a slow grin tugging at his lips. “Different’s a nice way of putting it. Most girls would kill to be step-princess of this place.”

“Step-princess?” Mom blinked, glancing between us.

Ryder’s smirk widened. “Yeah. Isn’t that what she is now? The little step-princess of the Hayes kingdom. Has a nice ring to it.”

My throat tightened. The way he said it wasn’t sweet—it was sharp, teasing, loaded with something that felt more dangerous than playful. Like he was daring me to react, to let the others see just how much his words got under my skin.

Mom laughed nervously, shaking her head. “Ryder, don’t tease.”

“Not teasing.” He tilted his head, gray eyes locked on mine. “Just calling it like I see it.”

I forced myself to hold his gaze even though every nerve in me screamed to look away. “If I’m the princess, what does that make you?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

He paused, fork halfway to his mouth. The smirk didn’t fade, but his eyes darkened, just for a second, like I’d said something I wasn’t supposed to. Then he let out a low chuckle that made goosebumps prickle along my arms.

“Me?” He set his fork down deliberately, leaning forward across the table. “That makes me the villain. The one who ruins princesses for fun.”

My chest squeezed so tight I almost forgot to breathe.

Richard cleared his throat loudly, his fatherly tone cutting through the tension. “Ryder. Enough.”

Ryder leaned back again, casual as ever, like he hadn’t just thrown a grenade into the middle of the table. He picked up his fork, stabbing at his food like nothing had happened. But his eyes—his eyes stayed on me, daring me to flinch.

I stabbed at my own food, pretending I wasn’t shaking. My appetite had vanished, replaced with a hot coil low in my stomach that made no sense. I hated him. Hated the way he pushed me, mocked me, made me feel out of place. And yet…

The word princess in his mouth didn’t sound like an insult. It sounded dangerous.

Mom reached across the table, her hand brushing mine. “Lila, darling, you’ll adjust. Ryder’s just… Ryder.”

I nodded mutely, trying to smile, but my focus was locked on him. Ryder, who was smirking again like he knew exactly what was going through my head.

As the dinner continued, conversation drifted—Richard talking about a new project, Mom asking polite questions—but Ryder never stopped watching me. Every time I lifted my glass, every time I shifted in my chair, I felt his eyes on me.

By the time dessert appeared, my skin was buzzing.

I stood to excuse myself, desperate for air, but Ryder’s voice stopped me. Smooth, low, deliberately audible.

“Where you going, step-princess?”

I froze. My mom and Richard were mid-conversation, barely noticing, but Ryder’s smirk was aimed straight at me.

“Just… upstairs,” I managed.

His gaze dragged slowly over me before returning to my eyes. “Don’t get lost. Big house for a little princess.”

Heat rushed to my face, but I forced myself to walk away without another word, my pulse thundering in my ears.

And as I climbed the stairs, the weight of his stare burning into my back, one thought circled relentlessly through my mind.

Ryder wasn’t just mocking me. He was warning me.

And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to escape it… or fall right into the trap.