I stared at Axel blankly before I looked at his father again, but he still had his nose buried in the newspaper. Mom still had that look on her face, and she seemed like she was far from here.

Wasn't this weird to any of them? My supposed step-brother asking what kind of men I prefer?

I looked back at him and just shrugged. “I don't prefer bastards. Simple.”

He said nothing and just looked at me, his lips pressed together. I looked away and continued breakfast, trying to deceive my brain that their eyes on me weren't affecting me.

“I'm leaving for work,” Kross said, standing up.

Mr. Varkas...