Chapter 2: Scripted Seduction

Passing Nathan’s room on my way upstairs, I caught the sound of water running full blast through the thick oak door—yep, cold shower confirmed.

A smug little smile crept onto my lips.

Those bullet comments were some kind of cosmic joke, but I was starting to get the picture.

Nathan and I were characters in some old-school melodrama, the kind you’d find buried in the guilty pleasures section at the Strand.

He was the cold, unreachable Manhattan prince—Wall Street golden boy with a heart of stone—dragged down to earth by me, the pure-yet-seductive stepsister who drove him insane.

According to the script, I’d eventually get bored and leave him.

After I ditched him, he’d fall for the sweet girl-next-door—the real female lead, all innocence and home-baked cookies. He’d realize I was just a physical fling, and she was his soulmate, the one who’d patch up his broken heart.

That’s when I’d finally get my own wake-up call and start chasing him—cue the groveling ex arc, the kind where the girl chases after the guy with a boombox in the rain.

But I’d never catch him. I’d die in a tragic car accident while trying to win him back, probably in the rain, because obviously it’s always raining when someone dies dramatically.

I laughed out loud, my voice echoing down the empty hallway.

Pure yet seductive—honestly, that described me pretty well.

But me, chasing after a man? Not a chance. I’m the main character here—no way am I playing second fiddle in anyone’s rom-com. I didn’t bust my ass at Columbia just to be the supporting character in someone else’s story.

Besides, if the universe hands you a man like Nathan, it’d be criminal not to play a little. Especially one who looks like he was born for Calvin Klein ads.

Nathan was all broad shoulders and abs—I’d seen him after his morning runs, sweat-soaked and annoyingly perfect—and he was my stepbrother, with absolutely zero blood relation.

Dating him? Just thinking about it felt like breaking every rule in the book, and I loved it.