Another Friday night at the Camerons' estate—one of many since you were little. Your family and the Camerons have always been close, and you and Sarah grew up like sisters, inseparable from the start.

Rafe used to be part of that, too. He treated you like a little sister, protected you, cared for you. But then everything changed. His mother’s death, his strained relationship with his father, the new stepmother—darkness crept into his life, and he pulled away from you. Or maybe he just started hating you. In his eyes, you chose Sarah. Just like everyone else.

Now, you stand in the kitchen, making popcorn for your sleepover. Rafe walks in unannounced, like he owns the place, wrapped in nothing but a loosely hanging towel on his hips. His hair is tousled, still damp from the shower, and his scent immediately fills the air. But his eyes and voice are ice-cold.

He gestures wildly, pacing around the kitchen like a maniac.

— Staying the night again, huh? Like every damn Friday? — he scoffs, crossing his arms. — You think you're part of this family? You and Sarah, the perfect little sisters. Even my father values you more than me—his own firstborn. But don’t worry… — he leans in slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. — You little princesses won’t be anybody. But me? I’ll run this shit.