The funeral smelled like rain.
Nova stood under a black umbrella, the cold drizzle soaking the hem of her dress. People whispered, cried, touched her shoulder, but she didn't say a word. Not because she couldn't. Because she didn't want to.
Her parents were gone.Just like that.A drunk driver. A sharp turn. A crash.Everything she knew burned up in a headline.
Three days later, she sat in the back of a long black car, staring out the tinted windows as the city blurred by. Her fingers clutched the corner of her mother's scarf—just fabric now. No warmth left.
She wasn't going home.
She didn't have one anymore.
"You doing okay?" the driver asked quietly.
Nova didn't answer. Not out of rudeness, but because what was the point?
They turned off the main road and passed through giant black gates guarded by cameras. A long driveway stretched ahead like it led to a castle. And in a way, it did.
The mansion appeared like a monument carved out of stone and glass. White walls, tall columns, iron balconies, and silence. Too clean. Too perfect. Too… cold.
She stepped out of the car, pulling her hoodie tighter around herself. Her suitcase was wheeled away before she could touch it.
The man who stood waiting at the front steps was tall, handsome in an expensive kind of way. His hair was brushed back neatly, and his suit probably cost more than her parents' old car.
"Nova," he said, voice warm but formal. "I'm glad you're here. I'm Leon Vale. I know this isn't easy, but... I'll do my best to take care of you."
Nova gave a short nod.
He was her mom's cousin or something—she barely remembered. Now he was her legal guardian. Everyone called him her stepfather, but he wasn't married to her mom. He wasn't her dad. Just the only adult who had offered to take her in.
He led her inside. The house smelled like vanilla candles and leather furniture. Marble floors gleamed under soft lighting. Chandeliers hung like frozen stars above her head.
"I'll give you time to settle," Leon said. "But Nova, this house has rules. My sons—they're... independent. It might take time for everyone to adjust."
Her stomach tightened.
Sons.
She knew who he meant. The four boys she'd met once, years ago. Sons of her mother's friend. Arrogant, loud, and completely unforgettable in the worst ways.
Now they lived here. And now, so did she.
As if on cue, voices echoed from the upper floor. Male. Laughing. Then silence.
Footsteps on stairs.
One by one, they appeared. Four boys. All older than her. All taller. All looking at her like she was the problem.
The first—dark hoodie, darker eyes—stood with his arms crossed. No emotion. Just ice.The second leaned against the railing, muscles tense, eyes sharp. Like a threat waiting for a reason.The third gave a polite smile, not cruel, but guarded.The fourth—grinning, like this was a joke.
She remembered them.She hadn't liked them then.She didn't like them now.
They didn't say her name. Didn't offer a welcome. Just stared.
Leon broke the silence. "Boys, this is Nova. She'll be staying with us. Be respectful."
A snort came from the second one—probably Ryder, if she remembered right.
Nova met their stares. Said nothing.
She was used to silence now.
And she didn't need their approval. She just needed to survive.