My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 222: What True Luxury Feels Like

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The jet landed smoothly, barely bumping the ground, the tires almost delicately touching the tarmac as if they were afraid to disturb it. From my oval window, I took in the sight of Hayseville below—an endless stretch of desert punctuated by a dazzling display of neon and glass that looked like someone had tossed a bunch of jewels across the sand.

Even in the daylight, the city seemed alive, lights flashing in vibrant pinks and electric blues, hotels shaped like pyramids and golden spheres rising as if to compete with the sky itself.

Pressing my face against the glass as we taxied, I felt my heart do a little flip, a feeling that had nothing to do with flying. Willow Haven had its own charm...quiet streets, familiar faces, kinda had that cozy small-town vibe that made you feel secure, but this?

It was something completely different. Hayseville didn’t just whisper; it roared, all glitz and extravagance, like Vegas had decided to mature, get some work done, and start flaunting designer everything.

Adrien leaned in close, his chin brushing against my shoulder. "Try not to gawk too much, you’ll blow our cover as tourists."

I nudged him playfully. "I’m allowed to gawk. I’ve never seen anything like this before."

He chuckled, his breath warm against my ear. "Just wait until you see the hotel. It makes our house look like a starter home."

The private terminal was like a sleek glass box, palm trees in planters that probably cost more than my old apartment. A black Escalade was already waiting on the tarmac, the driver holding the back door open.

Mom and Keith exited first, Mom in her perfectly tailored cream coat and Keith in a charcoal suit that exuded quiet authority. They moved with an air of confidence, expecting the world to adjust itself for them, and it did...staff appeared with luggage carts, the driver nodded respectfully, and we hopped into the car without a hitch.

The drive into the city was surreal. Wide boulevards lined with casinos that echoed ancient temples and modern art mixed together, fountains shot water in choreographed patterns like they were dancing to music only they could hear, and luxury boutiques flaunted names I’d only seen in fashion magazines.

Palm trees swayed gently, their fronds sparkling in the late-afternoon sun in shades of green and gold. I kept my nose practically glued to the window, half-expecting to spot celebrities strolling by in sunglasses and designer athleisure.

Mom and Keith were up front, heads together, bent over Mom’s phone while discussing gala seating arrangements and dinner menus. Every so often, Mom would laugh at something Keith said, relaxed and easy, as if the tension from earlier hadn’t happened.

Keith glanced back once. "Excited for the gala, Noah?"

I managed a nod. "Yeah. It’ll definitely be... something."

He smiled, pleased, then turned back to Mom. She didn’t look my way at all.

The hotel loomed ahead like a palace perched atop a mountain of gold. Marble columns flanked the entrance, water features glimmered in the courtyards, and the doorman sported white gloves and a top hat like he’d stepped out of a historical drama.

Inside, the lobby felt like a cathedral of light...huge crystal chandeliers, gold-leafed ceilings, floors so shiny I could see my own astonished reflection.

The concierge greeted us like we were royalty. "Mr. Fell, Mrs. Fell, Mr. Adrien, Mr. Noah"—as if we were welcome guests in some extravagant palace.

A personal escort whisked us up in a private elevator to the penthouse floor. My suite was bigger than my childhood apartment, decked out in cream, gold, and velvet: a living space with plush sofas facing floor-to-ceiling windows, a king-sized bed draped in silk probably worth more than a car, a marble bathroom with a tub big enough for two (that thought quickly fled my mind), and a balcony with a view of the entire sparkling strip, fountains, neon, and palm trees stretching out like a vivid dream.

I meandered through, fingers grazing gold-trimmed furniture, opening drawers stocked with complimentary toiletries that smelled luxurious, standing on the balcony until the wind whipped my hair and made my eyes water from the sheer opulence of it all.

Willow Haven had never prepared me for this. I felt like an intruder in a castle, waiting for someone to realize I didn’t belong.

Adrien found me on the balcony, casually leaning against the railing with his hands tucked in his pockets. "First-time billionaire treatment hitting you hard?"

I laughed, a bit shaky. "I keep expecting security to show up, tell me I’m an imposter, and kick me out."

He stepped closer, his shoulder brushing against mine. "You belong here more than a lot of them. At least you’re not pretending to be something you’re not."

I glanced at him. "You’re used to this."

He shrugged. "That doesn’t mean I like it. It’s just... background noise."

Mom appeared at the doorway, already changed into a silk blouse and slacks, tablet in hand. "Noah, your suit for tomorrow is in the closet, we need to get it fitted later."

No mention of the fight. No asking how I felt. Just checking things off her mental list before she vanished back into the suite.

Adrien watched her go, then turned to me.

The afternoon was spent unpacking and exploring. Adrien showed me the rooftop infinity pool that looked like it floated above the city, the private spa with treatments I couldn’t even pronounce, and the in-suite dining menu that offered things like "caviar service" and "truffle risotto." I marveled at everything, feeling both thrilled and completely out of my depth.

By evening, I was worn out. After a quick room-service dinner (Adrien went for steak, while I opted for pasta because comfort food sounded perfect), we sat on the couch, scrolling through the gala guest list on his phone.

There it was: Logan Seymour. Listed as Keith’s personal guest.

Adrien’s jaw tightened. "This is our shot."

I nodded, nerves twisting in my stomach. "Tomorrow."