Stuck Between Two Hotties: My Stepbrother Stole My Christmas

CHAPTER TWO

Lena's Pov

Airports always smell like coffee, cold air, and goodbyes.

Today, they smelled like something else too:

Escape.

I needed distance from Bryce, distance from that restaurant, distance from the version of myself who let her heart get stepped on for two straight years. So the moment my flight began boarding, I shoved my emotions into my carry-on bag and prayed they wouldn't burst open midair.

As I settled into my window seat, I let my head fall back and exhaled.

Tomorrow I'd pretend Bryce Carter didn't exist.

Tomorrow I'd be the girl who survived the worst kind of heartbreak.

Tomorrow I'd step into a new house, a new family, a new "chapter" at least that's what my mother called it.

But tonight?

Tonight I felt like a cracked ornament someone dropped on Christmas morning.

The intercom crackled. "Flight attendants, prepare for departure."

I closed my eyes, hoping sleep would take me.

It didn't.

Instead, every detail from last night sharpened again: Bryce's lazy smile across from that girl, the way her fingers brushed his wrist, the half-laugh, half-sigh he used to make only with me. The bright, bold red lipstick she wore the kind I never had the confidence to try.

And then the worst part:

To us, he'd said.

My stomach twisted.

No more.

No more replaying his betrayal.

No more giving him space in my mind.

By the time the plane landed, I'd sworn three things:

1. I would not cry in front of my mother.

2. I would not mention Bryce's name.

3. I would not let anyone treat me like a fragile ornament again.

The airport in Wyoming was smaller, quieter, colder. I zipped up my coat and dragged my suitcase behind me, searching for the car my mother said would pick me up.

Then I saw him.

A massive man in a suit, holding a placard with my name: Lena Hale.

"Miss Hale?" he asked as I approached.

"That's me."

He nodded once, took my suitcase like it weighed nothing, and led me to a sleek black SUV. I climbed in, sinking into leather seats that made me feel instantly underdressed.

As the car pulled away, snowy landscapes blurred past. Pine trees. Cabin roofs. Twinkling lights. Actual Christmas vibes if my chest wasn't a war zone, I might have enjoyed them.

"Your mother is very excited to see you," the driver said, breaking the silence.

"Really?" I laughed softly. "She's excited to critique me."

He didn't respond. Probably trained not to.

Twenty minutes later, the SUV turned into a long driveway lined with white lights and garlands. At the end stood a mansion tall, elegant, covered in fresh snow and enough decorations to make Santa jealous.

I swallowed.

This wasn't just a house.

This was a statement.

As soon as I stepped out, the front doors opened and my mother rushed out, coat flaring dramatically.

"Lena!" she cried. "Sweetheart!"

I barely had time to prepare before she wrapped me in her signature too-tight hug.

"Hi, Mom," I croaked.

She stepped back, eyes scanning me like I was luggage she was inspecting for damage. "You look thin. And pale. Are you eating well?"

"Uh...yeah."

She sighed, already dissatisfied. "We'll fix it. Come inside."

I followed her into the sweeping foyer, overwhelmed by chandeliers, glossy floors, and the warmth radiating from the fireplace. Everything smelled like cinnamon and pine needles.

"Where's... your husband?" I asked, unsure how to refer to him yet.

"Oh! Adrian is in his study finishing a call. He's thrilled to meet you." She smoothed her hair. "And oh! You'll finally meet Cassian too."

My new stepbrother.

The mysterious son she hadn't said much about, except that he was "intense" and "not very social." Which could mean anything antisocial genius or future serial killer.

Great.

Before I could ask more, footsteps echoed down the hallway. A tall man entered the foyer broad shoulders, salt-and-pepper hair, warm smile.

Senator Adrian Ward.

"So this is Lena," he said, voice deep and steady. "Welcome, sweetheart."

I shook his hand, surprised at how gentle his grip was. "Thank you. It's... beautiful here."

"We're happy to have you." His smile widened. "Cassian should be down any minute. He's been looking forward to meeting you."

My stomach fluttered. Why?

Why would a stranger my stepbrother look forward to meeting me?

Mom beamed. "Let's get you out of that coat and oh! Here he is!"

I turned.

And the world... shifted.

Cassian Ward descended the stairs like he controlled gravity effortlessly, silently, every step deliberate. Tall, broad, wearing a black sweater that made his eyes look darker. His hair was messy, like he'd run a frustrated hand through it ten times before coming out.

But it was his expression that stopped me cold.

Sharp. Controlled.

A face carved from shadow and quiet storms.

And when his eyes met mine..

Something inside me pulled tight.

Dark eyes.

Unreadable.

Like he could see things I didn't say.

"Lena," he said.

Just my name.

But the way he said it...

deep, low, almost like he was tasting it...

I swallowed hard. "Cassian?"

He nodded once.

But he didn't smile.

Didn't look away.

Didn't soften.

He just watched me.

Mom, oblivious, clapped her hands. "Well! Now that everyone's met we can start decorating tomorrow! Adrian and Cassian haven't put up a single ornament."

Cassian's jaw twitched.

Adrian laughed. "Some of us aren't festive."

My mother leaned closer to me. "Cassian's always like this. Don't take it personally."

But Cassian's eyes were still on me...

and nothing about that gaze felt impersonal.

I shifted, throat dry.

Adrian gestured to the staircase.

"Your room is ready upstairs. Make yourself at home."

As I grabbed my suitcase, Cassian stepped forward, blocking the bottom of the stairs unintentionally or maybe intentionally; I couldn't tell with him.

For a heartbeat, we were too close.

Too aware.

He spoke softly so only I could hear.

"Rough day?"

My breath caught.

He could see it on me?

The exhaustion, the heartbreak?

"Something like that," I whispered.

His gaze flicked down my face slow, intentional then back to my eyes.

"Tomorrow will be better," he murmured.

It wasn't a promise, but it felt like one.

I nodded, unsure what to say, unsure why my chest felt warm.

As I climbed the stairs, I felt his eyes on my back steady, unreadable, almost protective.

And for the first time since Bryce shattered me, I wondered if maybe just maybe something good waited on the other side of this heartbreak.

But I didn't know yet that Cassian Ward wasn't the kind of man you eased into.

He was the kind you fell into.

Dangerously.