Moana’s POV

“Home sweet home." I chirped as a little smile formed on the side of my lips.

The air in the airport was thick and hot. It was the kind that clung to your skin and made your clothes feel heavier than they should.

Darting my eyes around, I dragged my suitcase behind me, the sound of its wheels echoing against the marble floors.

My heart was thudding against my ribs, not from the long flight, but from anticipation.

It has been five years since I last saw my family most especially, Ashton Volkova, my stepbrother and the new leader of the Volkova family.

He was the reason why I left in the first place but right now, I couldn't stop darting my eyes around in search of him.

Long before the plane landed, I had imagined him waiting for me in the arrivals with the same storm in his eyes that made people to either fall in love with him or fear him.

“He’s not here." I mumbled, pulling my phone out of my pocket to order a ride since he failed to come pick me up.

But before I could, I saw a man waving at me and on a closer look, it was Miguel, Ashton's best friend and right hand man.

Grinning widely, he ran to my side, “Hey Moana,” he greeted, relieving me of my suitcase.

“You look different,” he said.

“Five years can do that to a person,” I replied, flashing a forced smile at him. I was disappointed but I tried not to show it.

“Where’s Ashton?” I demanded, whipping my head in his direction.

“Ash had to handle something urgent, you know how it is.”

Yes, I do. — I replied in my head.

Ashton always had something to handle. It was either business meetings that ended in blood or deals that required silence and a gun.

Still, I felt that familiar pinch in my chest.

Before it escalated, I quickly told myself it was fine, that I didn’t come back to chase old feelings but instead I came for a fresh start.

“Come on,” Miguel said, holding my shoulder lightly. “He’ll be home by the time we get there.”

“Yeah." I nodded, matching his long strides with two at a time.

The drive was quiet for the most part. The city looked different from the last time I had seen it. It now looked bigger and colder.

Several times I caught Miguel stealing glances at me from the rearview mirror but he didn't say a word.

When I couldn't bear the silence anymore, I cleared my throat. “Is everything okay?" I asked.

“Yup." He replied almost immediately. I was going to say something else when he asked, “You nervous?”

“Why would I be nervous?” I chuckled, shifting my gaze out of the windows so he wouldn't see the pink flush on my cheeks.

“Ashton.” He called. “You left against his will and now you're back…”

"It's five years already, he should be over that by now.” I mouthed. "I think I'm over that too.” I whispered.

Miguel smirked, as if he knew exactly what I meant, maybe he did because everyone close to Ashton knew.

Everyone could see how I used to look at him when I thought no one noticed and how my breath hitched whenever he entered the room.

That was the exact reason why I left.

As if it happened yesterday, I could still remember the night before I left. The tension, the argument and the way he had stared down at me.

His jaw was clenched in anger while his voice was low but laced with restrained anger.

“Go if you want.” Those were the last words he said to me and the next morning without looking back, I was gone.

And now, here I was again.

Finally, Miguel turned into the private road that led to the family estate. It was the same long driveway that looked more like an entrance to a fortress.

The towering gates opened slowly and on each side of the gate were men in black suits and guns strapped to their sides.

“Still paranoid as ever,” I muttered under my breath, taking in the heavily guarded environment.

“Careful,” Miguel said with a chuckle. “He calls it security, you call it paranoia. Either way, it keeps us alive.”

He elicited a nod of agreement from me as my fingers tightened around my purse. My nerves were coiling inside me like a living thing.

The realization has hit me with a full force; I wasn’t ready to see Ashton.

Miguel must have noticed it because I felt his hand on mine for half a second. “Relax,” he said.

“He’ll be happy to see you.”

“Are you sure?" I found myself asking as my heart slammed against my chest. He nodded but I wasn’t so sure.

About five minutes later, the car rolled to a stop in the large garage which was a house to different expensive cars.

Whipping his head around, Miguel leaned forward like he couldn't see me from afar. “You good?” he asked, looking at me with a mix of concern and warning.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I nodded and that was lie number one.

Pushing the door open, I stepped out of the car and almost immediately, the cool air hit my skin, making me shiver despite the warmth of the evening.

To look composed, I ran my hand over my hair, straightened my blouse, and took a deep breath.

You can do this. He’s just your stepbrother, you’ve moved on. — I told myself but my heart didn’t seem to get the memo.

It was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.

“I told you, he is back." Miguel said, nodding at the west wing of the mansion and immediately, I followed his head movement with my gaze.

Truly, it was Ashton. He had his back on me but still a glance was enough for the recognition to hit.

With my hands folded in front of me, a smile found its way to my lips but as soon it came, it fizzled out.

Ashton wasn't the only one there, he had company. I wouldn't have been bothered but his company was no other than another woman.

And like that wasn't enough torture, she leaned into him with her hand resting on his chest.