Broken by son, claimed by father

****FLASBACK*** “Stop Jeremy, you should go slower , I’m out of breath” I whispered and moaned truly out of breath . My thighs had been spread and shaking , Jeremy’s c**k slipping smoothly in and out of my p***y,surrounded by c*m from both of us , I suppose. He had hit my G-spot accurately with every insert and I could feel every inch deep inside me coupled with the speed I wanted. But I needed to pretend I had had enough of it. He passed his fingers through my red hair, “you know how long we’ve longed for this moment”, “ this is just the beginning," he whispered, biting my lips and slowing down a bit and then returning sharply to his previous pace. Flashback ends* This should’ve been me, right? I should have known. That’s the first thought that ripped through my chest as I stood frozen, my hand still clutching the key I used to open Jeremy’s apartment door. I shouldn’t be here, not tonight, not after the way he brushed me off earlier and accused me of being “selfish” and “arrogant” for asking simple questions. But my heart-stupid, desperate, clinging to scraps dragged me here anyway. And now I was paying for it. Because there he was. My boyfriend. My almost-fiancé, if the hints he dropped months ago had been real and not cruel distractions. Jeremy’s skin glistened with sweat, his head tipped back in a rhythm I used to know too well. His voice-God, his voice - so thick with groans and curses I once thought belonged to me alone. Except it wasn’t me in his bed. It’s her. Celine Gomez.My best friend. I had seen her as a sister. The one who had been telling me all week that I should “give him space,” that “he’s under pressure with work,” that “maybe you’re overthinking things.” She was the one tangled beneath him now, arching into his every touch, her nails clawing at his back as though she'd earned him. And Jeremy-he was giving her everything he once promised me. I couldn’t breathe. My heart pounded against my ribs like it was trying to break free before it shattered completely. My throat burned with the pain . For a moment, I stood confused, whose betrayal hurt most. They didn’t even notice I was there. That’s the part that cuts the deepest. They were too lost in each other, in the hunger I thought was mine alone, to realize the woman he’d been dating for two years was standing in the doorway watching her entire world collapse.“Jeremy,Celine omg really”? I screamed, tears rolling down my cheeks .I dashed out of the apartment as he followed me screaming my name, “f**k!! f**k!!!no stop, Reyna,Reyna” he screamed his voice following as I left. I was too broken to I needed to vanish. I just entered a taxi real quick. Memories flooded me as I sat in the car. All the moments spent with Jeremy.Jeremy was tall with dark brown hair, a sharp jawline with a hint of stubble.His hazel-green eyes were my favorite features and his broad shoulders with bulky muscles. He was his father’s only son in charge of the multi-billion dollar business across the majority of the states. And Celine, the road trips. The whispered promises. The long shifts at the hospital where Celine, my best friend, covered for me just so I could race to Jeremy for dinner. The nights I stayed with her, crying about him pulling away, and she stroked my hair and swore she’d never let anyone hurt me. My stomach twisted violently. “Here” I said to the driver as I pulled out money from my bag.The pub was half-full when I stumbled in, mascara smudged, heart bleeding. I must look like every cliché in the book—broken woman, late-night bar, hopeless eyes searching for an answer at the bottom of a glass. I hated clichés. And yet, here I was. The bartender raised an eyebrow. “What’ll it be?” “Tequila,” I said. The word felt foreign on my tongue. I’d never touched it, not once. I knew better-our family history was a long list of livers that failed before their time. But tonight, I didn’t care. Tonight, I wanted something strong enough to burn the betrayal out of my throat. “One shot?” I laughed bitterly. It sounded ugly, like something broken. “Keep them coming.” The first one scorched. The second numbed. By the third, the fire in my chest loosened into something resembling release. I stared at the empty glass and thought of my mother, sitting at our kitchen table with her wedding ring still on after my father left her for another woman. She used to whisper to me, Never trust too much. People always show their teeth eventually. I should have listened. But love, love makes fools out of even doctors who spend their lives diagnosing problems. I couldn’t diagnose my own heartbreak until it was terminal. I tipped my head back and laughed again, a hollow sound. Somewhere between drunk and destroyed, I whispered to no one, “Guess I’m the patient now.” That’s when he appeared. Not my ex. Not some concerned friend. A stranger. A man whose presence made the air shift. He looked quite old, thick black hair, slightly tousled, framed a face of sharp cheekbones and a sculpted jaw.His dark grey eyes knew exactly how much tequila I’d had. He looked…expensive, if that’s even a thing. Not just handsome-devastating. “Rough night?” he asked ,sliding onto the stool beside me. I should’ve ignored him. I should’ve waved him off, ordered water, gone home, and cried into my pillow. But my head spun and my heart was raw and his smile was too disarming. “Is it that obvious?” I murmured . “Only to someone who knows the look.” His voice was smooth, calm, like he’d seen a hundred broken women and somehow didn’t judge them. “Tequila’s a dangerous choice.” “I’m dangerous tonight.” He chuckled, low and warm. “I’ll keep that in mind.” The rest was a blur. His voice washed over me. My head heavy against his shoulder. The faint smell of cedar and smoke clinging to him. A car ride I don’t remember getting into. The strange comfort of not being alone. And then-darkness. Morning light slammed into me. My eyes snapped open and I bolted upright, my head pounding. This isn’t my room. The bed was huge, draped in sheets softer than anything I’d ever owned. The ceiling was high, the kind that only belonged in mansions, not in the tiny apartment I called home. My heart raced as I clutched the blanket tighter around me. Because I was naked. The memories came back in fragments, jagged and terrifying. His face. His voice. My laughter that wasn’t laughter at all. And then nothing. I twisted , panicked, scanning the room. The space beside me was empty, but the sheets were rumpled, warm. Whoever he is, he was here. A cold wave of dread crashed over me. Last night I lost my boyfriend. My best friend. The future I’d built in my head. And now-now I’d lost control, too. Because I didn’t even know whose bed I just woke up in. . Gosh!!Small world?. He had no idea.