Chapter Four

“And here, finally, is my son,” James said, his voice brimming with pride as he gestured toward the terrifying giant walking towards us. “Christian Louis Fitz”

“Nice to meet you!” My mom said quickly, stepping forward with her classic, eager smile. “I am Chanelle.”

Christian stopped at the base of the marble stairs, his towering frame casting a long shadow over us. He gave my mother a smooth, polite nod that didn’t quite reach his eyes at all. “Nice meeting you, Chanelle.”

“And this is Chanelle’s daughter,” James continued , turning his warm smile back at me. “Her name is—“

Before James could finish the sentence, Christain’s deep voice cuts through the air.

“Snow.”

James blinked, looking completely confused. “No, that’s not her name. Her name is Hattie.”

But my mother instantly chimed in, her eyes lighting up as she looked back and forth between us. “Wait, do you two already know each other? It is her name, actually! It’s just her middle name.

My stomach did a violent flip. Panic flared hot in my chest, and I opened my mouth to tell the absolute truth. I was fully prepared to confess that we had cross paths at the airport terminal and that I had mistakenly slapped him across the face. Anything was better than sharing a secret with this pervert.

But before I could say anything, Christian beats me to it. He let out a low, dark chuckle, his deadly blue eyes locking dead into mine with a look that told me he completely controlled the room.

“Yeah,” Christian lied smoothly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a wicked smirk. “We know eachother.”

“We met back at the terminal,” Christian continued, his voice dripping with an easy, casual charm that made my blood boil. He took a slow step up the marble stairs, deliberately narrowing the distance between us. “She was looking a little lost, so I helped her out with something she dropped. Right, Snow?”

I locked my jaw, my hands clenching into a tight fists at my side. He was lying, completely twisting the story, painting himself as some chivalrous gentleman when he had actually been hovering over me like a predator. Worse, those dark sea-blue eyes were practically daring me to contradict him in front of our parents.

“Oh, how wonderful!” My mother gushed, claspung her hands together. She didn’t notice the absolute terror and fury warring on my face. She was too busy celebrating this perfect manufactured coincidence. “See, honey? I told you they would get along! Practically fate.”

James let out a hearty laugh, clapping a heavy hand onto Christain’s broad shoulder. “Well, isn’t that something? New York is a massive city, but the world is small. I am glad you look out for your new sister, son.”

“Always,” Christian murmured, his gaze never leaving my face. The smirk on his lips widened just a fraction, dark and completely wicked. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew he had me backed into a corner, trapped by my own hatred for causing scenes and my mom’s desperate need for a perfect family. “I’ll always look out for her.”

“Well, let’s not stand here in the cold evening air,” James said warmly, guiding my mother toward the massive, carved front doors. “Come inside. The maids have prepared dinner, and I am sure you girls want to wash up after such a long flight.”

My mother eagerly followed him, her heels clicking happily against the marble as she chatted away how beautiful the estate grounds were.

That left the two of us.

Christian stood on the step just below me, but because of his massive 6’3ft height, we were practically eye-to-eye. Up close, I could smell the faint scent of linen and crisp air on him again, completely overriding the scent of the gardens.

“You are a liar!” I hissed under my breath, my voice low enough so our parents wouldn’t hear as they walked into the grand foyer.

Christian didn’t look offended at all. He just tilted his head, his dark blue eyes scanning my flushed face with an intense, unmoving focus that made my skin prickle.

“I expected a thank you instead you know. I just saved your hiding behind perfect behavior, Snow,” he whispered back, his deep voice a smooth, dangerous rumble that sent an unwelcome shiver straight down my spine. He leaned in just an inch closer, his presence entirely swallowing up my personal space. “Unless of course, you wanted to explain to my father why you assaulted his only son at the airport?”

“I didn’t assault you!” I snapped back, my voice sharp, furious whisper. I stepped back a bit, but there was nowhere to go with his massive frame blocking the view of the driveway. “You did the assaulting . That’s what all you boys know how to do anyways. There isn’t any difference between any of you—you all are just perverted.”

Christian took immediate interest in that word. The hard, unreadable line of his mouth slowly melted away, replaced by a slow, dark glint in his eyes. He didn’t look angry at all. If anything, my little outburst seemed to amuse him more than the slap did.

“Perverted?” He repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like a rare candy. He tilted his head a fraction more, his gaze dropping to my lips before rising back to my eyes. “Spell it.”

I blinked, completely caught off guard. “What?”

“Spell it, Snow,” he murmured, his voice carrying a lazy, teasing weight as stepped up onto my stair, completely erasing the last bit of distance between us. His chest almost brushed my folded arms, his massive height forcing me to tilt my chin all the way up just to look at him. “You are the one with the good grades and perfect behavior right? Let’s see how smart you are.”

My face burned with absolute frustration. “I am not playing games with you!”

“It’s not a game,” he whispered,leaning down to enough so his warm breath fanned across my cheek, smelling faintly of mint and the cold air. “I just want to make sure you know exactly what kind of label you are slapping on me. Because if you are going are going to call me that, Snow….you better be prepared for actual lessons.”

Before I could process the dangerous promise in his words, Christain pulled back, his dark smirk fully returning. He smoothly walked past me, his broad shoulder deliberately brushing against mine as he headed towards the open front doors.

“Don’t keep the family waiting, little sister,” he tossed over his shoulder, his voice deep echoing lightly against the grand pillars of mansion.

I stood alone on the marble stairs, my heart beating violently against my ribs, my mind spinning into complete chaos. He was brutal, he was arrogant, and he was completely unhinged.

I took a shaky breath, smoothing down my jacket, and forced myself to walk inside. I had a feeling that surviving under the same roof as Christain Fitz was going to be the hardest test I had ever faced.