Alexander descended the stairs, his expression cold and unreadable. Maids and the butler bowed as he passed. Behind him, Artemis followed quietly, though the curious stares directed her way didn't go unnoticed.
Alexander wore a dark red shirt patterned in black, with the top two buttons undone.
Artemis found her gaze lingering on his back, a soft flush rising to her cheeks.
Earlier that morning, after Priscilla left, he had casually suggested they bathe together. Horrified, Artemis locked the bathroom door to keep him out. She knew she was testing fate, but who in their right mind offered to wash someone else?
She sighed, eyes subtly flicking around. The way the maids looked at Alexander caught her attention—admiration, infatuation, even lust. She couldn't really blame them. His looks were beyond normal—he was dangerously attractive.
She blushed.
What the hell am I thinking? she swallowed hard.
Alexander sensed the sudden uptick in her heartbeat and smirked.
I wonder what she's thinking about.
At that moment, Cleopatra was headed to the dining hall when she caught sight of someone trailing her stepbrother. Her jaw clenched as recognition dawned—the slave.
What the hell is she wearing? she seethed.
Artemis looked like a regular girl. The gown Priscilla had given her was beautiful, hugging her curves perfectly. Her long hair was down, and she looked undeniably stunning. Artemis felt a sharp glare on her and shivered.
---
"Stop glaring or I'll gouge your filthy eyes out," Alexander said calmly as he sipped his blood tea.
Cleopatra scoffed, stabbing at her breakfast.
Artemis stood quietly behind Alexander's chair, sensing the unnatural tension between the siblings. She trembled slightly and looked up at the table.
At the head sat an older woman with dark red eyes. Her face was unreadable as she ate, not sparing Artemis even a glance. Beside her was a man—handsome, despite his age—with the same red eyes.
On the other side of the table, Priscilla smiled and waved. Artemis nodded back politely, her cheeks flushing.
Aside from Alexander and Priscilla, no one else was familiar. But the oppressive atmosphere around the table was enough to make her stomach twist.
Alexander sensed her unease but said nothing as he cut his meat and ate.
"What right does this slave have to stand by our table?" Cleopatra snapped. "Brother, slaves aren't even allowed in the main house!"
"Watch your mouth, Cleopatra. She's your brother's pet—and pets stay with their owners," Mrs. Quinn finally looked up, her eyes flicking to Artemis like she was nothing more than another mansion ornament. Artemis froze under the scrutiny.
"But Mother—" Cleopatra started, standing so quickly her chair screeched back. Artemis flinched.
"Fine! I'll drag this bitch out myself! Her very existence makes me sick!"
She stormed toward Artemis, who was now visibly shaking.
God, I'm dead.
"I'd advise against that, little sister," Priscilla said, dabbing her lips with her napkin. Her smile was soft, unnerving.
Cleopatra reached out, but before she could grab Artemis, the room's temperature dropped. A bone-deep chill settled over everyone.
"What did I say about going near her, Cleopatra?"
Alexander stood, gripping Cleopatra's wrist in a blink. His voice was calm, but his eyes were darker than night. Artemis trembled.
"B-But… B-Brother…" she stuttered.
Alexander exhaled slowly.
"That's what I didn't want to hear. You're centuries old, yet your ears are still faulty. What did I tell you yesterday?"
His tone made Artemis' skin crawl. She looked around the table. Everyone had stopped eating, yet no one intervened.
"Alexander, go easy on her," Ezra muttered, leaning back in his seat.
Alexander turned his darkened eyes to him.
"This is what happens when you don't discipline your daughter. I'll give her a reminder. Next time, she'll think twice before touching what's mine."
A loud crack followed.
A scream tore through the dining hall.
"AAAAHHHH!! MY WRIST!!!" Cleopatra shrieked, her voice shrill with pain.
Artemis watched in horror as Cleopatra's hand dangled uselessly, her wrist crushed.
How… How could he do this to his own sister?
Mrs. Quinn sighed. Ezra pinched the bridge of his nose. Priscilla chuckled softly.
"Oh my. How terrifying," she mused.
Cleopatra stared at Alexander with tearful eyes. The pain was unbearable—he knew exactly how to inflict it.
Then she turned her fury on Artemis.
"You fucking piece of—"
"I will snap your neck if you don't behave," Alexander interrupted, still calm. "Go to your room and take care of that wrist. Theodore hates sniveling brats, dear sister."
Red-faced, humiliated, Cleopatra turned and ran out, a maid chasing after her.
Alexander chuckled and took Artemis by the wrist. She squealed, quickly clamping a hand over her mouth.
Oh God. He's going to snap mine too for locking the bathroom!
"We'll be out for a while," he announced, dragging her toward the entrance and into the waiting carriage.
Back at the table, the remaining trio watched them go.
"Well, breakfast never fails to be exciting," Priscilla said with a smirk as she stood. "I'll be going out too."
She left the hall, heels clicking on the marble.
Mrs. Quinn and Ezra remained silent for a moment.
"Those kids," she muttered.
"Alexander's becoming more out of control these days," Ezra said, sipping his tea.
Mrs. Quinn hummed in agreement, staring into her cup before finally taking a sip.