There were exactly three things Anthony knew about Room 407: extra cheese, no peppers, and a forty-dollar tip promised by the voice on the phone.He didn't know that the door was open. He didn't know that the hallway smelled like expensive perfume. And he definitely didn't know that in about four seconds, his entire life was going to catch fire."Delivery for 407," he called out, knocking on the open door out of habit. "Hello?"No answer. Just sounds. Wet, rhythmic, breathless sounds.He stepped closer, pizza box balanced on one palm, and looked in.His brain took a full three seconds to process what his eyes were seeing. A king-sized bed. Tangled sheets. A man's back, broad and muscular, moving with slow, powerful thrusts. And beneath him—No.No, no, no.Anthony had delivered hundreds of pizzas in his life — late nights, cheap apartments, luxury hotels, dorm rooms packed with loud college kids. He thought he'd seen everything a delivery job could throw at him.He never expected to o

Anthony watched the video again. And again.His thumb knew the motion by now — scroll, tap, replay. He didn't know why — maybe he was looking for a mistake, some sign he'd misunderstood, anything that could make this hurt less. But the screen offered no mercy.Linda's face filled the screen, red-eyed and trembling, and her voice filled the hospital room like poison in the air."How dare she," Anthony whispered.He wasn't even angry about the lie anymore. He barely cared what ninety thousand strangers thought of him. His image was the last thing on his mind. What made his blood boil was the photo.He remembered exactly the day it was taken. Linda had come to the hospital, and at the time, he was actually glad. He'd foolishly thought she was finally showing his mother she cared. He had been completely wrong.She hadn't come for his mother. She had come to ask him for money, something for her social media or a new outfit. He couldn't even remember the details anymore.All he remembered w

Anthony stayed frozen at the entrance, the room in front of him not quite registering.Step-sisters. The word still felt strange, like he wasn't sure what it actually meant.His mind was still trying to catch up, which was probably why he completely failed to notice the small blur of motion that detached itself from the sofa and came rushing at him.Before he could react, a pair of arms wrapped tight around him from behind, and Anthony nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked back, startled, to find the blonde girl hugging him with a bright smile on her face.She had round cheeks, bright brown eyes, and a ponytail that bounced with pure contained energy, like the rest of her was barely holding in a fireworks show.She beamed up at him. "Are you my new big brother?"Anthony froze. "...What?""Are you?""Um." He opened his mouth, then closed it.His brain stalled out completely, because technically he wasn't her brother, at least not yet. Not until the DNA test came back, and only if it

She pulled back before Anthony could react, leaving him standing there with his heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to escape."Sonia—""Oh, look at the time." She was already turning away, suddenly very interested in a display of silk shirts. "We need to get going. Father doesn't like it when we're late."Anthony opened his mouth. Closed it. "Right. Right."Whatever he'd heard, or thought he'd heard, was apparently never going to be mentioned again.Twenty minutes later, he understood why people said money was a language, because Sonia spoke it fluently.She piled a mountain of clothes onto a rolling rack, shirts, jackets, shoes, more shirts, until the thing looked like it was applying for its own zip code.At checkout, she paid for all of it with one lazy swipe of the card.One swipe. No bounce. No loading screen. The terminal just beeped and cleared, like the machine itself was afraid to keep a billionaire's daughter waiting.The ride back to the Stark residence was

Anthony walked to the study behind Sophie dressed like a different man.Sophie had fixed him up, proper shirt, proper jacket, clothes that fit a person who actually belonged here. He still felt like a guest in his own skin, but at least he looked the part now.A few minutes later he reached a set of large wooden doors. Sophie stood outside and opened them"Mr. Stark is waiting for you."Anthony nodded and stepped inside.The study door stood open, so he stepped through. The first thing Anthony noticed was the silence. Everything in the room felt like power that had better things to do than show off. His eyes drifted up one wall, and he found himself standing in front of a portrait. It was a massive family portrait, painted so realistically it felt like the people might start talking. In the center stood Robert Stark, and around him stood seven women. Seven.Are these his daughters? Anthony thought to himself. Are these all his children?His eyes moved from one face to the