Chapter 2
Samara held her sobbing little girl tight and called the driver to rush them down the mountain to a real doctor.
She wouldn’t trust the local quacks, though she’d had no issue leaving Joanna here for eighteen years.
She’d barely spent a month total with her eldest daughter, never really raising her.
Any guilt she felt about ditching Joanna vanished the second she thought Joanna hurt her precious Ariel.
Joanna couldn’t care less about her so–called “mom.”
Just seeing Samara’s fake, holier–than–thou face made her want to throw hands.
Sure, Joanna wasn’t exactly a picture of health, but she was tough. When some punk smashed her grandma’s windows, she’d slammed him to the ground until he begged for forgiveness.
Still, she followed Samara to the city because her grandma’s dying wish was for her to reconnect with her mom and be a “family“-not to walk away.
In the car, Joanna lounged with her arm on the window, staring out with a bored look. The wind tousled her soft hair, making her look like a damn painting. Even the driver kept sneaking glances in the mirror.
When Ariel hopped out, she shot Joanna a death glare and snapped, “You hit me? You’re toast!”
Joanna didn’t even turn. The red mole under her eye gave her delicate face a dangerous vibe. “You itching for round two?”
Ariel was pissed but didn’t dare try anything–her finger still throbbed like hell.
Seeing her daughters at each other’s throats only made Samara madder at Joanna. To her, Joanna was the problem, picking on poor Ariel. Without Joanna, she and Ariel had been just fine.
Samara’s first husband, a guy named Newburn, was nothing like her new one–also a Newburn, but a total upgrade.
She’d grown up in this nowhere mountain town, engaged to her first husband since they were kids. He was an orphan, and she didn’t care–until he died in a dumb accident, falling down a hill while chopping wood.
After that, she was done with village life. Everyone was heading to the city for work, so she left Joanna with her folks and took off for the big time.
Being a looker, Samara had no trouble catching rich guys‘ eyes. A one–night stand got her Ariel, whose dad, Howell Newburn, was loaded and suave.
He kept the cash flowing, and when he got divorced last year, Samara pounced and locked him down.
But Howell loved daughters. A few days ago, he’d asked if she had any more, saying the house was too full of boys and needed some spark. That was when she let slip about Joanna and had to drag her back.
Samara wasn’t exactly jumping for joy at the idea, but going against Howell? Not an option. So, off she went to the sticks to pick up Joanna and bring her back to the family.
Now, eyeing Joanna–slim, fragile, like a breeze could knock her over–Samara felt a knot in her chest. Then she looked at Ariel, her baby, eyes red from crying, and her irritation grew.
She snapped at Joanna, “Listen up, the Newburns aren’t just any family. When we get there, keep your head down and your mouth shut. Behave. And don’t drag any of that mountain crap with you.”
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Chapter 2
She added, “You’ve got four older brothers and a younger one. They’re all big shots and busy. Don’t mess with them–or, uh, don’t get in their way.”
Ariel glared at Joanna, practically spitting. “They’re my brothers, not yours! You’re just some stray who doesn’t belong!”
Joanna didn’t even blink. “One’s a moron, the other’s a snake. I’m the one who’s got nothing to do with you two.”
If it weren’t for her grandma’s wish, she’d tell them both to kick rocks. If they kept running their mouths, she’d just smack them and be done with it.
Joanna fished a strawberry lollipop from her pocket, popped it in her mouth, and sighed contentedly, eyes half–closed.
Ariel was fuming but bit her tongue after Samara calmed her down.
Instead, she grabbed her phone and texted her brothers–Joseph the movie star, Aiden the physics PhD, Ryan the artsy painter, and Simon the campus heartthrob.
She fired off a group text: [Bros, your girl got jumped by this nobody! Miss you, need a hug!]
Crickets.
Joanna caught a peek at the screen and smirked.
She knew who Samara had married into. Only one family in Oragan City had sons that impressive–and a daughter that
useless.
Ariel pouted, still steaming. As they pulled up to the massive villa, someone called out, “Yo, Ariel, why the long face? Pouting like a kicked puppy?”
A tall, cocky teen strutted over, stupidly handsome with tanned skin, red lips, and flirty eyes that screamed trouble.
He wore a white tracksuit, a black wristband on his slim wrist, and flashed Ariel a teasing grin. “What’s got you so down? Weren’t you off petting dogs or something? What, one bite you?”
Then his eyes landed on Joanna, and he froze for a beat. ‘Well, damn, this girl’s a knockout.’
Chapter
Chapter 3
