Chapter 1

It was 2:15 a.m., and the arrival hall at Harbor City International Airport felt like stepping into an ice cellar.

I dragged my 24-inch suitcase through the empty hall, staring at my phone screen, where the words "Ride Request Failed" glared back at me.

Southern winter nights were damp and bone-chilling. I clutched my beige coat tight, fingers numb with frost, but I gritted my teeth and shot a text to Ryan Shepherd, my brother.[Hey, are you awake, big bro? Can you come pick me up at the airport?]

As soon as I hit send, I realized I'd accidentally typed "big bro" instead of "bro." Usually, I call him "bro", short and simple, nothing extra.

At twenty-four, I'd almost never called him "big bro" like that. The words together sounded soft and a little whiny, like I was trying to act cute, and it made me cringe so hard I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

Ryan and I are siblings, only two years apart, and we grew up side by side. But now, as adults, we're more like distant roommates than family.

He's got his own place and rarely comes home. I spent four years in college and three in grad school up north, so we haven't really lived in the same city for seven years straight.

It's not that we don't get along, but there's nothing much to say between us. That's how it goes with grown-up siblings. Everyone has their own life, and when we do talk, it's polite and a bit distant.

I stared at the chat window for ten minutes before my phone finally buzzed.

It wasn't a text. He sent two voice messages instead.

I tapped play, and a man's teasing, laid-back voice came through the receiver, with a hint of drunken laziness: [Which babe is this?

[Send me a pic, let me pick.]

I was so at a loss for words I couldn't even type a response.

Typical. He never even bothered to add me as a contact.

Ryan's got that charming, flirtatious vibe, like, good looks, loaded family, smooth talker, and girls are always flocking to him. I've heard from my relatives that he's a total flirt, always calling every girl "babe" like he's super close with them.

But I never imagined his flirty ways would ever hit me right in the face.

I let out a frustrated laugh and, without hesitation, started a video call.

As soon as the call connected, the video showed adimly lit room with loud music blaring in the background, and I could faintly hear the sound of glasses clinking somewhere off-screen.

Ryan was sprawled out on the couch, holding a glass of whiskey, his eyes full of mischief and a lazy, cocky smirk on his lips, the picture of a spoiled rich kid.

He glanced up at the camera, not even bothering to see who it was, and drawled, "Hey, who's this gorgeous girl calling me in the middle of the night?"

I kept my smile, my voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Wow, Ryan, look at you. Already got a bunch of 'babes' now?"

His grin froze instantly. Three seconds later, he sat bolt upright, almost spilling his whiskey. All that laid-back bravado disappeared, replaced by sheer panic.

"Stella?" he blurted out. "What are you doing back?"

I kept smiling, but my eyes were practically daring him. "Tomorrow, I'm telling Mom and Dad their 'good son' is out here recruiting little sisters left and right. Should I help you keep track of how many you've got?"

Ryan sprayed his whiskey everywhere, coughing nonstop and looking completely rattled.

The room instantly burst into laughter and jeers.

"Ryan, this girl is seriously gorgeous." someone shouted.

"Come on, don't be stingy. Introduce her to us." another voice chimed in.

"Ryan, hiding such a beautiful girl from us? That's not cool." someone else teased.

Ryan's face went dark. He kicked the guy next to him and snapped, "Back off. This is my real sister, Stella Shepherd. Touch her and see what happens."

He hurriedly brought the phone up to his face, his tone instantly softening as he tried to butter me up. "Stella, I messed up, I really messed up. Please, don't tell Mom and Dad, I'm begging you."

I let out a huff and kept quiet.

Right then, a barely audible, low chuckle slipped through the screen.

It was like melted snow in winter. Clear, pleasant, and so alluring it sent a shiver down my spine.

My eyes instinctively flicked to the edge of the frame. There was a man sitting there.

The lighting was dim, but it couldn't hide how striking he looked. Broad shoulders, a slim waist, and a tall, confident posture, his profile was all clean lines, with a sharp nose and well-defined lips.

He didn't even have to say a word; simply sitting there, he had this icy, aristocratic vibe that made him seem totally out of place in the noisy, playful crowd around him.

Ryan glanced at him like he'd grabbed a lifeline. "Stella, I've been drinking, so I can't drive. But I'll send my most handsome and trustworthy childhood friend to pick you up. He's totally reliable."

With that, he swung the camera over to the guy. An elegant, icy face suddenly appeared on screen, catching me completely off guard.

Ethan Brooks. Ryan's best friend since childhood. I'd only glimpsed him a few times back in high school.

Back then, he was a legend at Central High. Top grades, top looks, the unattainable crush of every girl. And the guy everyone was always talking about online. [Ethan Brooks of Central High. So cold and untouchable, he could kill with his looks.]

Seven years later, he's more handsome and captivating than ever, with a maturity that made him even more irresistible.

The instant our eyes met, my heart skipped a beat out of nowhere.

Ethan glanced at the camera, calm and collected, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he nodded at me. With a warm, gentle voice, he said, "Stella, long time no see."

Before I could even say a word, Ryan hung up in a hurry.

As the screen went dark, those pure, luminous eyes lingered in my mind. It was like he carried a pool of moonlight in them.