Chapter 1
Miller stepped out of the SUV and stared up at the mansion — all cold stone and dark windows, as if it were holding its breath. The last time he'd stood on this drive was six years ago. Back then, he swore he'd never return.
Myers came around the hood, his mouth set in a grim line. "Feels smaller than I remember."
"Feels dead," Miller muttered.
Behind them, Roman shut his door and scanned the grounds with that trained precision that had made him indispensable — first as their partner in the marines, now as their partner in their security firm. His eyes lingered on the heavy curtains drawn across every window.
"Place gives me the creeps," Roman said. "You sure you're ready for this?"
"Doesn't matter," Myers answered. "It's family."
Family. The word tasted bitter. Their mother had tried to build a home here — warm, laughing, alive. But she'd died bringing Star into the world, and the house had never recovered. Neither had Julius, who buried himself in his company, leaving Miller and Myers to fill the empty spaces. Star was their little shadow, all giggles and chasing after them with paint-smeared hands. Until they left. Until guilt and distance took root.
Inside, the house was hollow. The warm colors their mother had chosen were gone, replaced by glass and chrome that gleamed sharp under the chandeliers. Portraits of her had vanished from the walls. Even the faint smell of her roses was lost under Angelica's cloying perfume.
Angelica descended the staircase like a queen, dressed in cream silk that set off her predatory smile. "Look who the wind blew back. My darling stepsons."
Chad slouched behind her, broad-shouldered now, wearing expensive cologne that couldn't mask the rot underneath.
"We're not here for a reunion," Myers said flatly.
Angelica sighed. "Straight to business, then. Fine. You've no doubt heard about Star's… condition."
"Condition?" Miller repeated, voice cold.
Chad chuckled. "Girl's not right in the head. Been that way since she was born. Cost your mother her life, remember?"
Miller's fists clenched. Roman put a hand on his arm, steady.
Angelica led them down the hall, her heels clicking like tiny hammers against the marble. "It's best for Star — and the family — if you both agree to a conservatorship. Professionals can handle her affairs. She can stay somewhere peaceful, with no stress."
They reached their father's office. Chad pushed open the door, smirking. "Go on. Make yourselves comfortable."
Inside, the office was exactly as Julius liked it — mahogany desk, liquor cabinet, shelves lined with ledgers and legal folders. But when Miller's gaze slid to the side, his chest tightened. Against the far wall stood an old dresser he recognized. It used to be in Star's room, painted soft lilac with little silver knobs. Now it was stripped, stained dark to match the office.
"What the hell happened to Star's room?" Myers demanded.
Chad grinned. "Needed more space. Figured it was wasted on someone who wouldn't be coming back."
"You moved into her room?" Miller's voice was dangerous quiet.
"Relax. Had the whole place redone. Burned most of that old junk. Pictures, toys, her weird little paintings. This is my house now, too."
Miller's stomach churned. Angelica only watched them with hooded eyes, like a spider waiting for flies to tangle themselves in her web.
Roman drifted over to Julius's desk and flipped open a folder. Inside, tucked among property inventories and trust documents, was a slip from Rosewood Haven — a private mental health facility hours away. Miller snatched it up, eyes scanning the crisp letters.
"That where she is?" he asked.
Angelica's lips thinned. "It's where she needs to be."
Roman met Miller's eyes. "We're going. Now."
Chad chuckled low. "Be my guest. Hell, I wouldn't mind seeing how she turned out. All grown up, probably soft from being locked away, easy to—"
Before he could finish, Roman lunged. In a blur, he had Chad by the collar, slammed against the shelves. Papers and a crystal decanter crashed to the floor. Roman's forearm pressed into Chad's throat, pinning him in place.
"Say another word about her. I dare you," Roman growled, his voice pure gravel.
Chad sputtered, face turning red. Angelica let out a shriek. "Let him go!"
Miller put a hand on Roman's shoulder, calm but firm. "Not worth it. Yet."
Roman glared at Chad a moment longer, then shoved him back. Chad crumpled into the chair, coughing, glaring daggers.
Roman straightened his jacket, breathing hard. "We're done here."
Myers grabbed the paperwork from the desk. "We'll get our own answers."
As they left, Miller shot one last look at Chad. "If anything else happens to her — if I find out you so much as set foot near her again — you'll wish Roman had finished what he started."
They stepped back into the sunlight, the house's dark windows watching them leave. Roman ran a hand through his hair, jaw still tight.
"You've only seen pictures of her," Miller said, studying him.
Roman shrugged, voice low. "She's your sister. That makes her mine to protect, too."
Myers cracked a thin smile. "Good. Because we're bringing her home."