Claimed By My Stepbrother novel Chapter 52

Chapter 52

Camila POV

Thanks,” I said softly, feeling a little lighter knowing I had somewhere to breathe for a while.

Anya clapped her hands together, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Right, then! Let’s get you settled in. You can take the guest room- it’s a mess, but what else is new? And if you’re hungry, there’s leftover

r pizza in the fridge. Help yourself.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. Despite the chaos of her life, there was something comforting about being here. Maybe it was the familiarity, or maybe it was just knowing that, for once, I didn’t have to pretend everything was okay.

As Anya led me down the hallway toward the guest room, I let myself relax a little. This wasn’t home- not really. But for now, it was close enough.

I trailed behind Anya as she led me down the hallway, the lighting flickering slightly from a loose bulb overhead. The floorboards creaked with every step, and I half–expected something to jump out from one of the many shadowy corners. Not that Anya’s place was creepy- just… old. Lived–in, in that chaotic way only she could pull off.

“Here we are,” she declared, flinging open a door at the end of the hall with a little too much flair, revealing what could only be described as a disaster zone. Clothes were strewn across the bed, an empty coffee cup sat precariously on the windowsill, and a suitcase- half–packed and spilling over- lay open in the middle of the floor.

I blinked, taking it all in. “Uh… guest room?”

Anya grinned sheepishly, nudging the suitcase aside with her foot. “Okay, so it’s more like my ‘I’ll–deal–with–this–later room. But it’s got a bed, a window, and some space. That’s all you really need, right?”

I sighed, dragging my bags inside. “It’ll do,” I muttered, though I couldn’t help but smile a little. This was Anya in a nutshell- messy, chaotic, and unapologetically herself.

Anya lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed. “I’ll leave you to get settled. If you need anything, holler. Oh, and don’t mind the noise- you know how the neighbors love their late–night karaoke.” She winked before disappearing down the hall, her footsteps fading into the distance.

I turned back to the room, letting out a long breath as I surveyed the mess. “Well, this is… something.”

The first thing I did was clear off the bed, tossing clothes onto a nearby chair. Most of them didn’t even look like Anya’s- probably her boyfriend’s stuff, judging by the size of the shirts. Once the bed was relatively clean, I sat down, sinking into the mattress with a sigh. It was softer than I expected, the kind that made you want to curl up and never

leave.

For a moment, I just sat there, letting the quiet settle around me. The faint hum of the music from the living room drifted through the walls, mingling with the occasional sound of a car passing by outside. It was oddly soothing, in a way that home hadn’t been for a long time

I glanced around the room, noticing the little details that made it unmistakably Anya’s- like the string lights draped haphazardly across the window, the mismatched throw pillows piled in the corner, and the stack of books on the nightstand, most of them half–read. A faint smile tugged at my lips. It was messy, sure, but it was also… cozy. Comfortable.

Standing up, I walked over to the window, pushing aside the curtain to peek outside. The street below was quiet,

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Chapter 52

bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. A cat darted across the road, disappearing down the street, and somewhere in the distance, I could hear the faint sound of music playing from another apartment.

I turned away from the window, deciding to unpack a little. Not that I’d brought much just a few clothes, some essentials, and my laptop. As I opened my bag, my fingers brushed against the edge of a framed photo tucked inside. I pulled it out, staring down at the familiar image of me and my mom, taken years ago when things had been simpler. Happier.

A lump formed in my throat, but I quickly shoved the photo back into the bag, not ready to deal with those feelings just yet. Instead, I focused on unpacking, placing my clothes in the small dresser by the wall and setting my laptop on the nightstand.

Just as I finished, there was a soft knock at the door.

“Yeah?” I called out, half–expecting Anya to burst in with some random story or offer of snacks. Instead, the door creaked open slowly, revealing her standing there with a tray in her hands.

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