The Hart mansion wasn't just a home. It was a fortress.From the outside, it looked like an old-money estate—ivy climbing over stone walls, the kind of place that might host charity galas and wine tastings. But those who knew better never came too close. Security cameras tracked every angle, guards in discreet black suits stood at gates, and cars with tinted windows rolled through the circular driveway at all hours.
Inside, though, was chaos wrapped in comfort. It was family.
Lila dropped her backpack by the entryway, her cleats dangling from one hand. The faint ache in her legs from practice reminded her she'd made it through her first varsity football game without collapsing under pressure. She should've been celebrating. Instead, she braced herself.
Because family dinner wasn't just about food—it was about interrogation.
She could already hear voices from the dining room: laughter, arguments, the clink of silverware.
"Good luck," Elara murmured, sweeping past Lila with the casual grace only a fashion major could pull off. Her hair was curled to perfection, nails freshly painted, as if she'd just stepped off a runway. "They've been waiting for you."
"Waiting?" Lila asked suspiciously, following her older sister into the dining room.
The moment she stepped inside, four pairs of brotherly eyes locked on her like wolves spotting prey. Aiden, Caleb, Jordan, and Tyler—all varying degrees of handsome and terrifying—sat around the long mahogany table. At the head sat her father, posture sharp, aura heavier than the chandeliers above. Her mother, the only softness in the room, poured herself a glass of wine and offered Lila a sympathetic smile.
"Sit," Aiden said. It wasn't a request.
Lila slid into her chair between Elara and Tyler, trying to look unbothered. She reached for mashed potatoes, but Tyler's voice cut through the air.
"So." He stabbed his fork into a steak with unnecessary force. "Who was the quarterback staring at you like you were dessert after practice?"
Lila nearly choked on air. They noticed? Already?
She tried for casual. "You mean Ethan Cole?"
The silence was deafening.
Aiden froze, his jaw tightening. Jordan set his fork down with deliberate calm. Caleb leaned forward, dangerous mischief dancing in his eyes. Tyler's hand curled into a fist on the table.
Her father's deep voice rumbled. "Cole? As in Damien's Cole's boy?"
"Mm-hm," Lila said lightly, though her pulse quickened.
Jordan leaned forward, hands clasped, voice calm in the way that promised a storm. "Did he touch you?"
"What? No!" Lila exclaimed.
"Did he try?" Caleb asked, a grin tugging at his mouth. Not a happy grin. A grin that meant violence. "Because if he so much as brushed your arm, I'll—"
" Caleb," Elara said sharply, kicking him under the table. "Not every guy who looks at her deserves to be buried in the backyard."
Caleb winced but didn't look repentant. "We'll see about that."
"Disagree," Tyler muttered, crossing his arms.
Her father finally lifted his gaze from his glass of wine, his eyes sharp as daggers. "Lila. Did he make a move?"
"No!" she said quickly, cheeks heating. "He just… stared. That's all."
"Staring is the first move," Aiden growled.
Her mother's gentle hand patted Lila's. "Ignore them, sweetheart. They're just territorial."
"Territorial?" Elara snorted. "Dad once had a man followed for smiling at Lila."
"Correction," Mr. Alexander Hart said smoothly, swirling his wine, "that man winked."
"Same difference," Elara shot back.
Lila groaned, covering her face with her hands. "You're all insane."
But that was the Hart family. Loud, dangerous, impossibly protective.
The interrogation didn't stop there.
"Cole's a senior,"Jordan mused, his eyes still on Lila. "Strong reputation. Captain. Good grades. Doesn't smoke or drink, at least publicly."
"You investigated him?" Lila asked, stunned.
"Of course." Jordan sipped his water like it was obvious. "You think we wait for threats to come to us?"
"He's not a threat," Lila muttered.
"Any boy who looks at you is a threat," Aiden said flatly.
Caleb cracked his knuckles, leaning back. "Don't worry, princess. I'll handle it. Quarterback or not, he won't last five minutes if he touches you."
"You'll do nothing," their mother cut in sharply, her voice soft but firm. "Lila is not a porcelain doll. She can handle herself."
"She shouldn't have to," Tyler shot back.
"And she won't," Mr Alexander Hart added, voice final.
Lila wanted to scream. They loved her. She knew that. But sometimes their love was a cage.
Her fork clinked against her plate as she pushed food around, tuning out their plotting. Instead, her mind drifted back to the locker hallway. Ethan Cole leaning against the wall, his dark eyes fixed on her, the smirk that had both infuriated and unsettled her.
"You're mine," he'd said.
Her heart had skipped. Not out of fear. Out of… something else. Something she wasn't ready to admit.
If her family found out? Oh, she'd never survive the storm.
The meal stretched on, filled with bickering. Elara teased Tyler about his overprotectiveness.Caleb bragged about a street race he won. Aiden and Jordan discussed business in low tones—business that had nothing to do with stocks and everything to do with the empire their family quietly ruled.
At one point, her dad's phone buzzed. He excused himself, murmuring something about a shipment in Italy. Her mother's smile never faltered, but Lila knew her mom's mind was already calculating potential threats.
This was normal. Normal for a family that wasn't normal at all.
Lila loved them. She did. But sometimes, she wished she could just be… normal too. Just a junior in high school, a football player, maybe a girl who could blush at a boy without setting off a war council.
But she wasn't normal. She was a Hart.
And Ethan Cole had just stepped into enemy territory without even realizing it.
Dinner ended with dessert—chocolate cake, Lila's favorite. Her mother cut her an extra slice. Her father kissed the top of her head before disappearing into his study. Her brothers hovered like hawks as she carried her plate upstairs.
Once in her room, door locked, she flopped onto her bed. Her phone buzzed. A new message.
Unknown Number: You looked good under the lights tonight.
Her breath caught. She knew exactly who it was.
Her fingers hovered over the screen, heart hammering.And for the first time, she realized—her family wasn't her only problem anymore.