Alexander stepped out of the restaurant, the cool evening air brushing against his face like a warning. He let out a slow breath and leaned against the nearest lamppost, phone already in hand. His mind was spiraling—he needed his guys.
He hit Xavier's contact and within seconds, the video call connected. Xavier's face filled the screen, followed quickly by Damon and Gilbert joining the group call.
"Omo, demon is now rebranded into family?!" Xavier burst out, eyebrows shooting up. "Plot twist of the century!"
Alexander barked a dry laugh. "Fam, I'm chanting. All this while, I thought my dad was dating Rose—Patricia's mom, bro. Patricia! My life just got fried."
Damon chuckled, shaking his head. "You're saying Patricia might be your stepsister? Abeg, who wrote this season?"
"Don't say that word again," Alexander groaned, pacing a few steps. "Just hearing it feels like I swallowed poison."
Xavier leaned forward, face close to the screen. "Take it from someone who has a stepsister—it's chaos. Now replace 'chaos' with Patricia, the one person who still calls me 'my Xavier' like she owns me. And I'm dating Kamsi now. You see the math?"
Gilbert exhaled, tone low but cutting. "Patricia as family? That's not just a headache—it's a psychological case study waiting to happen."
"And if this thing sails," Xavier said, tone mock-serious but with an edge, "I'm dodging you at school. I can't risk appearing in the same family group chat as Patricia. My brand can't survive it."
They all laughed, but Alexander knew there was weight behind the jokes. It wasn't just teasing. If things got serious between their parents, the lines between friends and family could blur in all the worst ways.
Gilbert's voice broke the tension, calm but heavy. "Sometimes, peace of mind costs more than loyalty. You've got to ask yourself: is it your father's happiness on the line... or your sanity?"
Alexander sighed and looked over his shoulder. Through the glass window of the restaurant, he caught it—a flicker of movement. Patricia. She was watching him, chin slightly raised, that trademark smug glint in her eyes. She knew she was the earthquake. And she enjoyed it.
"I don't know what to do," Alexander admitted. "Break the relationship and be the villain... or accept it and have Patricia parading through my house like she built it."
Damon grimaced. "You're finished either way, bro. Just pick the softer blow."
Xavier tilted his head, his voice quieter now. "Patricia doesn't know how to knock. Once she enters a space, she assumes it's hers. Letting her in isn't just about your dad's relationship. It's about every part of your life. Including us."
The line went silent for a beat.
Alexander stared at the screen. Three faces. His brothers. But suddenly, he wasn't sure if they'd always be standing beside him—especially if Patricia was standing in between.
The rest of dinner crawled by under a heavy cloud of tension. Alexander barely touched his food, his appetite drained the moment Patricia's name had entered the conversation. Every clink of silverware felt like a countdown to disaster. His father and Rose kept up the small talk, cheerful and awkward, like two people desperately trying to pretend their children weren't one insult away from flipping the table.
"It was really nice meeting you, Alexander," Rose said as she dabbed at her lips with a napkin, her tone gentle and sincere. "I hope you and Patricia find a way to get along."
Alexander forced a polite smile, but it never reached his eyes. "Me too," he muttered, gaze drifting toward the restaurant's glass window. His reflection stared back, tired and tight-lipped.
Across the table, Patricia's head snapped toward him. "Why?" she muttered, just loud enough for him to catch. Her scowl deepened, her fork frozen mid-air. "Not gonna happen."
Rose shot her a warning look, but Patricia didn't flinch.
As the server cleared the plates and Rose stood to excuse herself, Patricia's voice rang out—calm, controlled, but sharp.
"Mom, give me a second with him."
Alexander's brows lifted. Oh? This should be interesting. He didn't move as Rose and his father hesitated, exchanged a quiet glance, then left the table with unsure smiles. The second they were gone, Patricia turned to him like a predator who'd just cornered her prey.
"You know I'm not having this, right?" she said, her tone low but unwavering. "This sibling fairytale thing? Dead on arrival. So, how about we skip the awkward family bonding and focus on what matters—ruining their relationship."
Alexander tilted his head, watching her with the cool detachment of someone sizing up a wild animal. Her lipstick was flawless, her eyes sharp—but there was something twitchy in the way her fingers tapped against her wine glass.
"You think I want to be your brother?" he replied with a quiet scoff. "Let's get something straight, devil wears lip gloss—I'm doing this for my dad. I don't care about you or your dramatics. But if you really want to work together, drop the act."
She blinked, caught off guard for a split second. That was the shift. He saw it. A crack in her control.
"Wow," she said, eyes narrowing, lips curling into a slow smile. "Guess the quiet boy's got a little bite."
He leaned forward, voice steady. "You have no idea."
Patricia's gaze darkened, but she didn't back down. Instead, she laughed under her breath and looked away for the first time, toward the window where her own reflection stared back. "It's already bad enough Xavier's parading that Kamsi girl like she's some trophy. You think I want people now whispering that you're my brother too? The F4 already treats me like I'm a pest. And now I'll be family with one of them? What a joke."
Alexander's stare sharpened. So that's what this really is about, he thought. Xavier
"I didn't realize being ignored by your ex-crush makes you burn your own house down."
She froze. Just a blink. Then her smile returned—too wide, too quick.
"Touché," she murmured.
"But unlike you," Alexander said, his tone clipped, "I actually care about someone's happiness besides my own."
Her expression twitched.
"That's cute," she replied. "Misplaced, but cute."
She stood up, shoulders squared like a soldier ready for war. "If you think dinner was awkward," she said, voice low, threatening, "just wait till we're family."
With that, Patricia turned and sauntered off, her heels clicking like a countdown. Alexander exhaled slowly, feeling the tension buzz through his veins.
Something told him this wasn't the end. It was just the beginning.