Chapter Three

Soon enough, we boarded the plane. I spent the entire flight staring at the small window, watching the clouds pass by, though my mind was still

Completely stuck on what happened at the terminal.

After five hours and seventeen minutes, the flight finally landed in New York.

As the wheels hit the tarmac with a loud thud, reality finally settled deep in my chest. My life in Utah was officially over. There was no going back to that quiet, familiar streets or the small house we left behind.

We made our way through the busy airport, got our bags cleared, and walked out into the arrival lobby. The place was teeming with people, but it didn’t take long to spot why my mom suddenly gasped with excitement.

Just outside the exist, a man in a crisp professional black suit was standing tall, holding a clean white sign. Written on it in bold, neat letters was my mom’s brand new surname: Mrs. Fitz.

“That’s us!” My mother said so happily, her voice practically squeaking with joy as she clapped her hands together. She didn’t waste a single second rushing over to him, her heels clicking loudly against the floor.

The man politely bowed his head, greeted her warmly, and immediately took our heavy bags. He led us outside to the curb, where a massive, sleek black car was.

I stopped in my tracks, my eyes going wide. The car looked incredibly luxurious. It was the kind of high end, custom vehicle that felt completely out of this world. Honestly, I did the math in my head—eveen if you combined the wealth of all my mom’s past lovers and husbands from over the years, they still wouldn’t be able to afford a single tire on this machine.

“Step right in, ladies,” the driver said, holding the passenger door open for us.

My mom entered first. She slid into the leather interior like she belonged, a massive victorious smile plastered on her face I swallowed the lump in my throat and climbed in after her. The seats were softer than any couch I had ever sat on, the interior smelled like expensive leather and rich cologne.

As the car pulled out from the airport and glided smoothly into the traffic, I couldn’t help but stare out the window. God, New York looked so lovely. I had always dreamed of coming here one day, but never did I expect it to be this quick, and definitely not under this circumstances.

After a long drive of two hours, the bright afternoon sun had disappeared. It was evening by the time we finally arrived at our destination. I was completely exhausted, my body aching from the long travel, but the second the car slowed, my tiredness vanished.

The name “THE FITZ” was written boldly across the massive iron gates.

The gates swung open slowly, and as the car rolled through, my breath caught completely in my throat. God the house was massive. Massive was a huge understatement. It was enormous, a palace style mansion with a luxurious European design inspired by French chǎteau architecture. It looked grand, elegant and almost royal.

Right after the center of the estate stood a massive white angel statue with its wide wings spread completely open. It was placed beautifully on a circular fountain, surrounded by perfectly trimmed hedges and colorful flowers. A long, smooth stone pathway led directly to the mansion, creating a dramatic, jaw dropping entrance.

The mansion itself was perfectly symmetrical and extremely detailed. As the car crawled closer, I took in the incredible sight.

Tall white stone walls covered the intricate carvings and decorative sculptures.

Multiple floors with huge arched windows that were glowing warmly from the lights inside.

Dark navy slates roof with gold accents and ornate peaks cutting into the evening sky.

Large balconies with elegant black iron ceilings.

Massive columns framing the central entrance, giving the whole structure a palace like feel.

Wide marble staircase leading up to the grand main doors.

Numerous chimneys, towers, and rooftop statue that added to the luxurious aesthetic.

Even the gardens surrounding the property were perfectly manicured. Tall cypress trees lined the pathway like silent guards, and colorful flower beds were arranged in perfect patterns. They were sculpted hedges, stone planters, and open courtyard space that made the mansion feel even larger than it already was.

Overall, the estate felt rich, powerful and almost fantasy like. It looked exactly like the home for royalty—the kind of estate owned by untouchable, old money billionaire family.

I knew my mom had married into wealth this time, but I absolutely didn’t expect this kind of wealth. This wasn’t rich. This was entirely another universe.

The car came to a smooth stop right in the front of the wide marble staircase. My heart began to beat violently in my chest. I thought about my simple life in Utah, my good grades, and my quiet behavior. I didn’t belong in a place like this.

Before the driver could step out to open our doors, the grand entrance of the mansion swung wide.

A man stepped out onto the marble landing. He looked to be in his middle forties, with neatly styled brunette hair and striking blue eyes. He was dressed immaculately, radiating an air of pure, effortless luxury. He looked like a man who hadn’t done a single labor in his entire life—the kind of wealth that had clearly been passed down from generations to generations.

My mom didn’t even wait. The second she sighted him, she practically threw the car door open and ran up the marble stairs, launching herself into his arms.

“Honeyy!!!” She squealed, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and kissing him deeply.

He caught her easily, a warm laugh bubbling from his chest as he returned the kiss. “Oh, how I have missed you, my darling. Finally you are here to stay!!”

“I am here to stay!” She promised, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

Soon enough, the man’s blue eyes drifted past her, sighting me as I hesitantly climbed out of the car.

“And who do we have here?” He asked, a welcoming smile spreading across his face. “The infamous Hattie Ellington. I have heard a lot about you, and you are quite the catch. Excellent grades, from what your mother told me.”

I swallowed the awkward lump in my throat, offering a polite, practiced nod. “Thank you sir.”

He hesitantly chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. “Sir? No need for the formal greetings. Just call me James.”

My mom chimed in immediately, her teeth shinning in a blinding eager grin. “Or Father!”

A cold wave of annoyance washed over me. Father. There was no way in hell I was going to call this man father. I had lost count of all the past husbands my mother had tried to make me call “Father,” and it never got any less disgusting.

Thankfully, James interrupted her before I had to force a fake smile. “No need for that, darling,” he said gently, giving my mom’s waist a soft squeeze. “I would never want to take away her biological father’s right.”

I let out a quiet, internal sigh of relief. Well, at least the man had more sense than my mother.

James looked back at me, his expression warm and genuine. “Hattie welcome to my humble home. Please, feel free to make yourself at home. Mi casa es su casa.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, almost laughing out loud. Humble? This place was the absolute furthest thing from humble. A “humble home” was the small, cramped houses of my mother’s tons of past lovers. This was a literal palace.

“Where is your son?” My mom asked suddenly, her eyes scanning the massive courtyard before turning to James with an eager smile. “I bet him and Hattie will get along just great.”

James smiled, checking the gold watch on his wrist. “He actually landed around the same time you did. He should be arriving here right about now…..”

Right on cue, the heavy iron gate at the edge of the property clicked open once more.

The low, powerful rumble of a luxury sport car echoed down the long stone pathway. A sleek, midnight—black vehicle glided into the courtyard, pulling up right behind the car we had just arrived in.

My breath hitched in my throat as the car came to a stop.

The driver stepped out quickly and moved past to the passenger seat side opening the door. My eyes locked onto the dark interior, my heart suddenly hammering against my ribs for a completely different reason.

A foot stepped out onto the gravel followed by a towering, broad shouldered frame.

I froze. The blood drained completely from my face, and I felt like the earth was sliding out from under my sneakers.

He had already changed out of his athletic jersey into a clean, dark designer hoodie, but there was no mistaking that messy jet-black hair. There was absolutely no mistaking those terrifyingly familiar, dark sea-blue eyes as they swept over the front steps of the mansion.

It was him.

The arrogant giant from the airport terminal. The one who had hovered over me. The one whose face I had slapped.

His piercing gaze cut through the evening air, moving past my mother, past James, until it landed squarely on me. The corner of his mouth twitched, pulling up into that exact same dark, mocking smirk I had seen few hours ago.

Great, I thought, the realization crashing down on me like a tidal wave, making my stomach completely drop. My new step brother is a pervert.