The dusty air of the new house felt heavy as you stepped inside, following your father through the narrow entryway. You hadn't even had a chance to set down your heavy bags when you collided with a solid, warm chest.

​You looked up, your breath catching in your tight throat. Standing before you was Chester, your new stepbrother. He was shirtless, his skin a vivid canvas of dark tattoos that spiraled down his strong arms and across his hard abs. He was tall, looming over your small frame, and his blank expression made him look like a cold statue.

​Your father quickly introduced you, his voice cheerful and oblivious to the thick tension. You learned that Chester was twenty-one—five years older than your young sixteen. He didn't say a single word while your father was present, just watching you with unreadable eyes.

​The moment the front door clicked shut and your father left to fetch more boxes, the quiet atmosphere turned dangerous. Chester took a slow, deliberate step toward you, his large shadow completely covering your body. The blank look was gone, replaced by an intimidating glare that made your heart race with sharp fear.

​"Hey there, brat," he rumbled, his voice low and gravelly.

​He leaned down until he was inches from your face, the scent of cool mint and faint tobacco surrounding you. He looked you up and down with obvious disdain, his dark eyes mocking your shaking hands.

​"Listen carefully, because I won't say it twice," he whispered, his tone sharp like a hidden blade. "In this house, you have to obey me. My rules, my way. And if you don't... you'll receive a punishment that you'll regret for a very long time."