My father, Luca Cox, stood in the doorway, his face a mask of ironed-out disappointment. The air hung thick with the metallic tang of fear from my new “family” and the sharp, floral scent of my stepmother’s destroyed dignity.
“Cheryl,” he said, his voice flat.
“You just got here, and you’ve already turned the house upside down. You’re not acting like a proper young lady.”
I wanted to laugh. A “proper young lady”? After 18 years fending for myself on Evanrest Mountain?
“Send me back to the mountain, then,” I said, my voice just as flat as his.
“Works for me. I don’t like it here anyway.”
Chris, nursing his stinging cheek, immediately chimed in.
“She’s got a point, Dad! Send her away! You cut ties with her already!”
“You shut up!” Luca snapped, his fury finally showing. It wasn’t directed at me, but at his son.
“Since when do you get a say in this house? Get back to your room.”
Chris scurried off, Jodie glaring daggers at my back as she followed him. I was left alone with the man who shared my blood but not my life. He clearly couldn’t stand me, yet he dragged me back from the only home I’d ever known. Mr. Wayne, my guardian on the mountain, had insisted.
“Just one year, Sheree,” he’d said, using my mountain name.
“Take care of yourself. I’ll be waiting for your return.”
One year. I could do one year.
“Your school transfer papers are ready,” Luca said, adjusting his cuffs.
“Willow High. Don’t be late tomorrow.” He turned and walked away. No ‘welcome home.’ No ‘I missed you.’ Just an order.
Later that night, I crept down the hallway. The house was silent, but a sliver of light escaped from under Luca’s office door. I pressed my ear against the wood.
“…seriously, honey, why did you bring that freeloader back?” It was Jodie.
“And even putting her in the same class as Mr. Walker? You know she’s got a hot temper. What if she pisses him off? We will be screwed!”
“That’s exactly what I want,” Luca’s voice was a low growl that chilled me to the bone.
“Simon Walker is a cold-blooded psycho who tortures people for fun. I want him to be the knife… to get rid of Cheryl.”
My breath hitched. Jodie gasped.
“Honey, I’m confused.”
“I just found out,” Luca explained, his voice slick with greed.
“Cheryl’s late mother—my ex-wife, Freya—left her a fortune. An absolute fortune. She inherits it the day she turns 18.”
“So…?”
“So, we wait until her 18th birthday. Let her claim the inheritance… and then, poof. We make sure she disappears. Until then, suck it up and play nice. We need her with us.”
“Oh my,” Jodie giggled, a sound like broken glass.
“Such a shame, though. Freya was an investment legend… smart as hell. She ended up with a dumb daughter like that. She must be rolling in her grave.”
I backed away, my hands shaking. Not with fear, but with a cold, clear rage. They didn’t bring me here to be family. They brought me here to be a piggy bank, and then a corpse. Dumb daughter?
I thought, a bitter smile twisting my lips. You have no idea who you just invited into your house.
The next morning, the driver who was supposed to take me and Chris to school was conveniently gone.
“Mr. Cox had the driver take him earlier,” Fiona, the maid, said without meeting my eye.
“Mr. and Mrs. Cox both need the other car. So… you’ll have to figure it out on your own.”
“Fine,” I muttered.
“Two can play that game.”
I walked. By the time I found Willow High, I was late. A stern-faced teacher stopped me at the door.
“You’re late. Stand over there.”
Just then, a guy walked up, equally late. Tall, dark hair, with eyes so empty they looked like polished stones. The teacher immediately smiled.
“Hi, Simon. Please come in.”
“Hey,” I called out.
“He’s late, too. Why am I the only one getting stopped?”
The teacher scoffed.
“You can’t compare to him.”
“Exactly,” I said, falling into step beside the stone-eyed boy.
“Since you’re such a big shot, take me in with you.”
He glanced at me, a flicker of… something. Not surprise. Amusement? He just kept walking. I followed him right into the classroom.
“You must be the new transfer student,” the teacher sighed, defeated.
“Introduce yourself.”
I scanned the room. All eyes on me. Bored, rich, predatory.
“Hey everyone. I’m Cheryl Quill. Just transferred here. My hobby is breaking bricks bare-handed.”
A few kids snickered. The teacher pointed to the only empty seat.
“Cheryl, sit next to Simon for now.”
Of course. I sat down next to the psycho my father wanted to be my executioner. He didn’t look at me. He was sketching something in a notebook. It looked like the anatomical structure of a human hand.
“Sorry,” he murmured, not looking up.
“My experiment subject keeps wandering off. Sorry if it distracted you.”
“Experiment subject?”
“Yeah. I’m into anatomy,” he said, his voice a low monotone.
“I dissect frogs, mice… stuff like that. Hope that’s not a problem.”
I leaned in.
“Not really. But dissecting frogs sounds kind of boring. Maybe I’ll bring you a black bear from the mountain next time.”
His pencil stopped. He slowly turned his head, and for the first time, his dead eyes focused on me. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of his mouth.
“This new deskmate of mine,” he whispered, “seems kind of fun.”
Lunch was another trap.
“That would be $60,” the lunch lady barked.
“Sixty dollars? For this?”
“Swipe your lunch card here.”
“I don’t have one.”
“Kid, if you don’t have a card, how are you going to pay? Get out of the way!”
Back on Evanrest, we didn’t need cards to eat. I was about to walk away, hunger gnawing at me, when a familiar, nasal voice cut through the noise.
“Get your butt back here, Cheryl.” It was Chris, my half-brother, flanked by two gorillas.
“This isn’t the mountains. Lend me your lunch card,” he sneered.
“Is this transfer student crazy?” someone whispered.
“Asking Chris for his card?”
“Simon,” another voice said. It was him. The psycho. He was watching, his expression unreadable.
“Since when do you care about drama?”
“Since just now,” Simon replied, his eyes locked on me.
Chris shoved me.
“Want some food? Get down and clean my shoes. Maybe I’ll toss you a scrap to eat. Stupid beggar.”
I stood still.
“Do it.”
“Cheryl, you’re a parasite,” he spat, his face turning red.
“You and your mom are both shameless, trashy women.”
That was the line. The one my stepmother crossed. The one he just pole-vaulted over.
Before he could blink, I grabbed his wrist, twisted it, and slammed his arm down onto the metal railing of the lunch line.
The snap was loud. Louder than the cafeteria chatter. It was followed by a split second of absolute silence, then a high-pitched, agonizing scream.
Chris cradled his broken arm, his face white with shock and pain.
“My arm! Someone help me! Get him to the infirmary!”
I shook out my hand.
“I should have gone easier on him.”
“No lunch card, and you started a fight on your first day?” The teacher from this morning, Mr. Zimmer, was bearing down on me.
“What is this? A school with no rules?”
“I’m a witness, Mr. Zimmer.” Simon stepped forward, his voice calm and clear.
“It wasn’t her fault. I saw everything. Chris threw the first punch. It had nothing to do with this girl.”
Mr. Zimmer looked at Simon, then at me, then at the whimpering Chris. His decision was instant.
“Oh, I see. Well, if everything’s cleared up, that’s the end of it. Everyone, move along.”
Just like that. The power of a Walker.
“You’re not so bad,” I told Simon as the crowd dispersed.
“Save it. Buy me lunch instead,” I said.
“But I don’t have a lunch card. Or any money.”
He sighed, as if this was a huge inconvenience, and pulled out his own card. He swiped it. The balance flashed on the screen: $100,000.00.
“Did you top up your card for three years?” I gaped.
“He’s loaded,” a girl named Selena said, sliding in next to us.
“He can afford whatever you order.”
I ordered three of everything.
“How long has it been since you last ate?” Simon asked, watching me inhale a burger.
“It’s not that I have a huge appetite,” I said between bites.
“But what’s your relationship with Chris? Why’s he picking on you?”
“He’s my half-brother.”
Simon and Selena both froze.
“Wait,” Selena said. “Aren’t you from the mountains?”
“Yeah. Abandoned there as a child. Grew up in a martial arts school. I only returned to my ‘family’ last night.”
“Growing up alone in the mountains,” Simon said, his voice soft.
“That’s awful.”
“If you need anything,” Selena offered, “just ask.”
“Cool,” I said.
“Thank you.”
A third voice chimed in, low and right by my ear. It was Simon.
“Some things, asking her might not do any good. But if you ask me… it will.”
I looked at him. The psycho my father picked. The knife he wanted to aim at my back. He wasn’t just a psycho. He was powerful. And for some reason, he had just saved me.
This changed the game.
That night, I called my father.
“Dad. I need money. I don’t have enough to eat at school.”
His voice was ice.
“Your brother’s in the hospital and you’re asking me for money without even checking on him? Do you have any decency? Any conscience?”
“Should I starve at school? He’ll heal. He’s not going to die from it.”
“You… you brat!” he roared.
“Are you going to give me the money or not? Or you could send me back to the mountain. Don’t waste my time.”
There was a long, strained silence.
“Fine,” he finally spat. “It’s just money. I’ll transfer it to you.”
He hung up. I stared at the phone. He wouldn’t let me go. Even after I crippled his son, he wouldn’t let me leave. That inheritance… my mother’s inheritance… he needed me here to get it. He was trapped. And that meant I had the power.
The next morning, I woke at 5 AM. I went to the kitchen, found the biggest, heaviest frying pan I could, and marched upstairs.
I stood outside Luca and Jodie’s bedroom and started banging the pan with a metal ladle. CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
“DAD!” I screamed.
“DAD! ARE YOU OKAY? WAS THERE AN EARTHQUAKE?”
Luca burst out of the room, his hair wild, his eyes full of murder.
“CHERYL! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
I smiled, sweet as cyanide.
“Good morning, Dad. I’m heading to school. Just wanted to let you know. You were the one who taught me to be polite. So, I decided I’ll greet you every morning, rain or shine. Without fail. See you later!”
I sauntered downstairs. I was going to see just how long he could keep up this “good father” act.
The act lasted about three days.
Chris, his arm in a high-tech sling, was waiting for me after school. “I’ll give you $200,000,” he seethed.
“I need you to teach someone a lesson. I want her to suffer tremendously.”
He was talking to a group of shady-looking townies. He was trying to hire someone to jump me.
“Sure,” I said, stepping out from behind the pillar.
“Simon, join us.”
Chris froze. Simon, who had been waiting for me, raised an eyebrow.
“I… I just remembered I left something at school,” Chris stammered, shoving the money back into his pocket.
“You guys go ahead.” He ran.
“Is he always like this?” I asked Simon.
“Jumping at every little thing. Don’t mind him. Let’s go.”
We started walking. But I knew Chris. This wasn’t over. As we cut through a quiet alley, my instincts screamed.
“Stay behind me,” I said, pushing Simon back.
“What?”
“We’re just following someone’s orders,” a gravelly voice said. The townies from before. Four of them. They had bats. And one had a knife.
“You think you can hurt me?” I scoffed, falling into a ready stance.
“Are you really going to take them on?” Simon asked, his voice tight.
“There’s a bunch of them.”
“They’re just a bunch of lightweights.”
“Bring it on,” the leader snarled.
They came at me. The first one swung his bat. I ducked, swept his leg, and used his own momentum to slam his head into the brick wall. He was out cold. The second one lunged with the knife. I redirected his arm, snapped his wrist, and kicked him in the solar plexus. He crumpled, gagging.
The other two looked at each other, then at me.
“That watch,” I said, pointing to the leader’s wrist.
“It’s worth at least 3 million. You’re the big fish, huh?”
“Mess with me… you’re asking to die!” he roared, panicked. But as he lunged, a black van screeched around the corner.
This wasn’t Chris’s crew. These men were professional. They wore masks. They grabbed Simon.
“Cheryl!” he yelled.
They tasered him, and he went limp. They threw him in the van. One of them pointed a gun at me.
“Don’t move, girlie.”
He was sloppy. I kicked the gun from his hand, broke his arm, and ripped the mask off the driver. I memorized his face just as the van doors slammed and it sped off.
I stood there, breathing heavily. This had escalated. This wasn’t a high school bully. This was a professional kidnapping.
I ran. I didn’t go to the police. I went to Chris.
I found him in his room. I kicked the door off its hinges.
“Miss Quill!” he shrieked, falling out of his chair.
“I didn’t… I didn’t ask them to use knives! I swear to God!”
“Where is he?” I snarled, lifting him off the floor by his shirt.
“Who?”
“Simon! Who else?”
“I don’t know! My guys said the job was off, that someone else took it!”
I threw him against the wall.
“Who am I, Chris? Tell me. Right now.”
“What? You’re… you’re the elder daughter! Dad’s first wife… my real sister!”
“And you?”
“I’m your brother! An illegitimate son! I don’t have any right to compete with you! Everything in the family belongs to you!” he sobbed.
I dropped him. He knew. They all knew. I was the heir.
I found Simon an hour later. I’d tracked the van using a “find my phone” app on the burner I’d slipped into his pocket during the melee. They had him in an abandoned warehouse by the docks.
I didn’t call for help. I was the help. I moved through that warehouse like a ghost. I took out six men before they even knew I was there. Silent, non-lethal takedowns. All taught on Evanrest.
I found Simon tied to a chair in a cold back room. He was bruised, but conscious. A phone was on speaker in front of him.
“…I have more than one son,” a cold, familiar voice said. It was Simon’s father.
“He’s not inheriting anything from this family. Do whatever you want with him.”
The line went dead.
Simon’s face was completely, terrifyingly blank. The psycho mask was back, but this time, I saw the cracks.
“Simon,” I said, cutting his ropes.
“Are you okay?”
He didn’t answer. He just stood up, his body trembling slightly.
“Stop. I need to sit for a bit,” he whispered.
“Be careful.”
“It hurts, Cheryl,” he said, his voice raw.
“It really hurts.”
“Where does it hurt? Is it internal?”
“Cheryl… thank you.”
“That’s on you,” I said gruffly.
“If I ever got kidnapped,” he asked, looking at me, his eyes desperate, “would you come save me?”
“Didn’t I just save you?”
“No,” he insisted.
“If someday I’m in real danger… hauled off to another city… would you still come save me?”
“Why ask the same question twice? Did you hit your head?”
“Cheryl,” he whispered, “I wish I had met you earlier.”
Simon didn’t just get mad. He got even.
A week later, he was back at school, not a scratch on him, but the air around him was colder.
“Mr. Walker, everything’s been investigated,” one of his family’s security guys told him in the hallway.
“My parents… teamed up with the Yates remnants to kill me. Again.”
“Get rid of those,” Simon ordered, his voice like flint.
“Got it.”
He was different. The kidnapping had broken something open. He started following me, tutoring me for the college exams. He bought me clothes for the school tennis match ($50,000 prize money, which I needed).
“If you were a chess piece,” he asked me one day in the library, “and all the others were trying to take you out, while the player was planning to use you… what would you do?”
I thought about Luca. I thought about Jodie. I thought about his own parents.
“I’d flip the board,” I said.
“Forget the game.”
He smiled. A real, genuine smile.
“Cheryl,” he said, “I think I really like you.”
My stomach twisted. This was my father’s knife. But the knife was turning.
The tennis match was a joke. The other girl, Jennifer, was a sports scholar. But I was a martial artist. My serves were like bullets. I won the $50,000 in under 30 minutes.
Afterward, I told him about Evanrest. About my training. About my senior, Taylor, who was like a big sister to me.
He got quiet.
“You two sleep in the same bed?”
“Yeah, we shared a room as kids.”
“Cheryl,” he said, his voice dropping, “would you ever sleep with me?”
“No. Simon, what are you trying to pull?”
He grabbed me. His grip was steel. He kissed me. It wasn’t a kiss. It was a brand. He bit my lip, hard enough to draw blood.
I shoved him off, my fist clenched.
“You’ve got a death wish.”
“Cheryl,” he panted, his eyes wild.
“Who’s better looking, me or your senior?”
“My senior.”
“Who treats you better?”
“My senior! Taylor’s better than you at everything!”
“Cheryl,” he hissed, “did your senior ever kiss you? Or bite you?”
“Simon, you’re out of your damn mind!”
“Yeah! And you should have figured that out by now!”
I left him there. I was done. This was too much. This wasn’t a person, it was a black hole.
But then Selena, my only other friend, found me.
“Cheryl, you don’t understand,” she pleaded.
“When Simon was 10, his grandpa got sick. His own parents kidnapped him to fight over the inheritance. He escaped alone. Walked for three days back to Willow. He’s been sick ever since, on medication. His personality completely flipped. He kicked his parents out of the family. It’s just him and his grandpa now.”
My anger evaporated, replaced by a cold dread. We weren’t just similar. We were the same. Two chess pieces whose own families wanted them dead for money.
I found him on the roof, popping pills.
“Taylor… is a woman,” I said quietly.
He froze.
“What?”
“My senior. Taylor. She’s a girl. We’re equals on the mountain.”
He just stared at me.
“Oh.” Then, “Cheryl… I’m sorry. From now on, no matter what, I’m on your side. No more mind games. I swear.”
He was lying. But I didn’t know it yet.
My 18th birthday arrived. The day I got the inheritance. The day my father and stepmother planned to make me “disappear.”
I was waiting for it. But Luca was smarter than I thought.
I was in my room when the door opened. It wasn’t Luca. It was two large men in white orderly uniforms. Jodie was behind them, smiling.
“That’s her,” Jodie said.
“She’s mentally unstable and violent. Get her to the asylum now.”
“What?”
“We are psychiatrists, Miss,” one said, pulling out a syringe.
“Just here for a quick checkup your father requested.”
“Not pretending anymore, huh?” I sneered at Jodie.
“First, you send me to the asylum. Then you use my father’s status as my guardian to keep me there, just like you did to my mom. Is that it?”
“Don’t talk nonsense!” Luca yelled, appearing behind them.
“You even hit your own dad! Take her away!”
I fought. I took down the first orderly, but the second one was lunging with the tranquilizer. The door exploded inward.
“Luca!” Simon Walker’s voice was a roar.
“If you lay a hand on my woman, you’re as good as dead.”
He wasn’t alone. He had four security guards with him. And a lawyer.
“Mr. Cox,” the lawyer said, “any attempt to commit Miss Quill will be met with the full legal force of the Walker Corporation. Furthermore, we have a press release ready to go detailing your… treatment… of Freya Quill’s daughter.”
Luca’s face went white. Jodie looked like she was going to faint.
Simon walked over to me, ignoring them all.
“You’re okay. You’re not hurt.”
He’d saved me. Again.
The next day, the news story broke. INVESTMENT LEGEND FREYA QUILL’S DAUGHTER SPOTTED IN WILLOW, TREATED LIKE DIRT BY COX GROUP CHAIRMAN.
The Cox Group stock tanked. Luca was ruined.
But the game wasn’t over. Luca, in his desperation, teamed up with George Yates—his wife’s old enemy.
Then came the final, brutal twist.
I confronted Simon. Something didn’t add up about the kidnapping.
“I fought one of the guys you hired before,” I told him. “Bad luck for you. I recognized his moves.”
He didn’t deny it.
“I see.”
“The incident with Chris,” I pressed, “that was you, too, wasn’t it? You paid Chris to hit you so I’d feel sorry for you.”
“Yeah.”
“And the kidnapping? The one where your father disowned you? The tears?”
“When I cried,” he asked, his voice cracking, “did your heart skip even a little?”
“No,” I lied, my voice cold as ice.
“That pathetic version of you was never my type. We’re done.”
“Cheryl!” he grabbed me.
“I found your mother’s inheritance. It’s not just a fortune. It’s an overseas venture capital firm. It’s a safety deposit box. And I have the key.”
He was threatening me. Using my own mother’s legacy to trap me.
“You’re seriously disgusting,” I spat.
“I know,” he said.
“So be my girlfriend. Or you’ll never see a dime.”
This was the real Simon. Not a psycho. Not a victim. A master manipulator.
The next day, he was on the school roof. On the ledge.
“Simon, get down!”
“No. You threw away my books, my uniform… now you’re throwing me away.”
“You’re insane.”
“So you’re that desperate to date someone?”
“No,” he said, staring at the pavement five stories down.
“I’m just dead set on dating you.”
I stared at him. The wolf. He would rather die than lose.
“Fine,” I sighed.
“I’ll say yes.”
“What?”
“I’ll be your girlfriend.”
He stepped off the ledge, his heart hammering against his ribs.
“This is the first time my heart’s ever beat like this,” he whispered.
“I know,” I thought.
“And it’s the last time I’ll ever let you control me.”
I played the part. I became his girlfriend. He took me to the bank. He gave me the key. The safety deposit box wasn’t gold. It was ancient medical manuscripts, priceless, long-lost prescriptions. My mother’s real legacy.
I met the board of her VC firm. I was a billionaire overnight.
And together, Simon and I finished the game.
We “leaked” 10 “failed” investment projects to Chris, pretending they were my mom’s “next big wave.” Chris, desperate to get on my good side, gave them to Luca. Luca, desperate to recoup his losses, gave them to George Yates.
They poured every last cent they had into those 10 projects.
They went bankrupt in a week.
It was over. Luca was destroyed. The Yates were finished. I had my inheritance, my freedom.
The college entrance exams finished. Simon and I stood on the school rooftop.
“Pretty sure that was the first time you hugged me,” he said, smiling.
“Do you like me?” he asked.
“I like you,” I said.
“You swear it?”
“Heavens above. I swear. I like you.”
He beamed.
“Let’s get married. We can do it abroad.”
“No,” I said, smiling.
“We’ve got to do it right. With our families.”
He was so happy. He never saw it coming.
The next day, the results were posted.
“Simon Walker, our school’s top student, accepted to Fall University!” the principal announced.
Simon took the stage, looking for me in the crowd.
“Mr. Lawson,” he asked, “what about Cheryl’s acceptance letter?”
The principal stammered.
“Uh… she… she was accepted into Sunrest University.”
Simon’s face fell.
“But… she said… 605 points… Sunrest’s cutoff is 600. She… she lied about her score.”
I was already in a taxi, halfway to the airport. My phone buzzed. It was him. I picked up.
“Cheryl… you lied.”
“I’m sorry, Simon,” I said, my voice clear and steady, the mountains calling me home.
“Let’s break up.”
I hung up. I was finally free. I had used the knife my father gave me to cut my own path. I had flipped the board.
Three years later.
I was at Sunrest University. I had built a new road to Evanrest. I’d renovated the school. I was living.
Then, a package arrived. A stuffed bear. It was childish. I almost threw it away, but I felt something hard inside.
I tore it open. Inside was a note, written in Simon’s familiar, sharp handwriting.
I know what you really love is a soul that’s pure white. So wait for me. I’ll bleach this heart in sunlight and offer it to you when it’s ready.
My phone rang. An unknown number.
“It’s been three years,” his voice said. It was deeper. Calmer.
“And you finally called me.”
“Simon,” I whispered, “where are you right now?”
“Look out your window.”
