STEP-DAD'S SECRET

18-part two|

✯𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏~𝐃𝐀𝐃'𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 ✯

(𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 ✿ 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕)

𝑊𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑦 𝐵𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑗𝑏14

©2025© 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑗𝑏14

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⁠ CHAPTER (18) EIGHTEEN

MAI'S POV

I turned away from the window, my gaze falling on Roman as he entered the room. He looked handsome in his suit, already dressed to leave. "What?" I asked, my voice neutral.

Roman's eyes locked onto mine, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths. "How do I look?" he asked, his voice low.

I raised an eyebrow. "Ugly," I replied, trying to keep a straight face.

Roman chuckled. "Like you," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't care. Where are you going this afternoon?"

Roman's expression turned serious. "Correction, I'm leaving for a little while."

I frowned, curiosity getting the better of me. "To where?"

Roman's face was impassive. "None of your business. You'll be handed the key, and you can only bring Zoey and Caleb."

I felt a surge of frustration. "No security?"

Roman's eyes flashed with annoyance. "No, they're my security, not yours."

I tried to argue, but Roman cut me off. "You don't pay them to do their job, Mai."

I bristled, but Roman's words struck a chord. "I can pay. How much do you pay them?"

Roman's expression was unreadable. "Someone's lifetime salary."

I snorted. "Let me guess, one hundred bucks?"

Roman's eyes never left mine. "One hundred dollars."

I laughed. "Per year?"

Roman's face remained serious. "Per month."

My eyes widened in surprise. "You give out that much money? Dude, what about me?"

Roman's gaze was unyielding. "You never asked."

I felt a spark of determination. "Okay, can you give me ten thousand dollars?"

Roman's response was immediate. "No."

With that, he turned to leave the room. I scuffed, muttering under my breath. "Useless."

Roman's eyes crinkled at the corners as he turned back to me. "I heard that," he said, his voice low and amused.

I quickly ran to the door, shouting "Jerk!" as I leaned over the railings.

Roman's smile grew wider. "Don't miss me too much," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I glared at him as he walked down the stairs, my voice rising. "I wouldn't even miss a thing! I hope you leave forever!"

Roman's smirked slapped me from up the stairs, and I felt a surge of frustration. I stayed by the railings, watching him go, my anger simmering just below the surface as he left. i***t.

When I was sure he was gone, I stormed downstairs, my feet pounding on the steps. As I reached the main floor, I headed straight for the drawer stand beside the main door. I pulled out the keys and found a note attached to the keyring. It read: "Don't break my rules."

I rolled my eyes and ripped off the note, tossing it into the trash. "We'll see about that," I muttered to myself. "It's my house now, so it's gonna be my rules." I jingled the keys in my hand, feeling a sense of ownership and freedom. Roman might think he could dictate what I did, but I had other plans. My plans of freedom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I groaned, waking up to the sound of my alarm blaring in my ear. Monday already, and I had to drag myself to school. Roman's absence had given me a newfound sense of freedom, and I was determined to make the most of it. I'd already filled Caleb and Zoey in on the details, and we were all excited to see what the day would bring.

We walked to the cafeteria, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement. Suddenly, Ava stood out in front of the crowd, microphone in hand. "Wassup guys! Another party tonight for celebration of the end of our school... forever! Since we're all adults, we're all invited to my house... except Mai, 'cause she's a party pooper."

The crowd murmured in agreement, but I wasn't having it. I walked up to Ava, a sly smile spreading across my face, and snatched the microphone from her hand. "Who'd like to have a party at the mansion of Mr. Roman Jaxon Cross?" I asked, my voice loud and clear.

The crowd erupted into whispers, and Ava's eyes narrowed. "Oh, really? And how do we know you're not lying?" she sneered.

I raised an eyebrow. "We'll just have to find out."

Ava snorted. "Pft, liar. Always says that."

I smirked. "If you think I'm lying, then come to his mansion. I'm sure he'd love to clear things up for you."

Ava's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "So, what are you to him, hm, Mai?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "He's married to my mom."

Ava's eyebrow arched. "I thought that was a rumor."

I smiled sweetly. "He's not. He's my stepdad."

Ava's gaze locked onto mine, a challenge gleaming in her eyes. "Well, you heard it, everyone. Mai wants to throw us a party, and everyone's invited. If the party's good, we'll see by ourselves. And if it isn't good, which of course it won't, you'll never be invited to anyone's party, including mine."

I grinned, accepting the challenge. "Deal."

Besides, Roman wouldn't be there, of course. That was a guarantee. I was banking on it. The thought of Roman's reaction to this little development was almost too delicious to imagine. Bring it on, Ava. Bring it on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I looked around the mansion, my eyes scanning every detail. It was almost party time, and Zoey and Caleb were busy helping me prepare the house. The music was set, the lights were dimmed, and the snacks were laid out.

"How's it looking?" I asked Zoey, who was busy arranging the drinks.

"Looking good," she replied, smiling. "But are you sure about this? Inviting the whole school to Roman's mansion?"

I nodded, confident. "Yeah, I'm positive. It's time to show them what I'm made of."

Caleb, who was setting up the speakers, looked up. "You know, Mai, Roman might not be too happy about this."

I waved my hand dismissively. "Roman's not here, and even if he was, I can handle him."

Zoey raised an eyebrow. "You're really going to throw a party in his mansion? Without his permission?"

I grinned mischievously. "That's the whole point."

The doorbell rang, and I smiled. "Showtime."

The door swung open and the first wave of students spilled inside, laughter and chatter filling the grand hallway. My heart pounded in my chest—not from fear, but from something more electric, a rush of adrenaline I hadn’t felt in a long time. They were all here: friends, rivals, even those who barely knew me. The mansion, Roman’s mansion, felt different tonight—like it belonged to me.

Zoey hovered nearby, smiling confidently, and Caleb gave me a quick nod from behind the crowd. I took a deep breath and stepped back, letting the party take over.

People moved through the rooms, impressed by the expensive décor, the way the lights cast soft glows on the walls. I caught whispers—some curious, some jealous—about why I was throwing this party, but I ignored them. This night was mine.

Someone bumped into me, and I looked down to see Ava smirking, as if daring me to mess this up.

I caught her eye and smiled. “Not a chance.”

She narrowed her eyes but said nothing. The music shifted, and people began to dance, letting loose after what felt like forever.

The music pulsed through the mansion, the bass thumping in time with our laughter and shouts. I lost myself in the rhythm, letting go of my worries and responsibilities. Zoey and Caleb were dancing beside me, their faces flushed with excitement. We spun and twirled, our feet moving in perfect sync. The lights flashed and swirled, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the room. I felt alive, free, and unstoppable.

Ava was laughing and dancing with the others, her earlier skepticism forgotten. She even managed to crack a smile or two, though I knew she was still sizing me up.

The music changed, and the crowd erupted into cheers. Someone put on a popular song, and everyone started singing along. I joined in, my voice blending with the others.

We danced and sang, our voices hoarse from shouting over the music. The night wore on, and I forgot all about my responsibilities. I forgot about Roman, about the mansion, about everything except the music and the moment. But as the song came to an end, reality started to creep back in. I looked around, taking stock of the chaos we'd created. There were cups and bottles scattered everywhere, and the furniture was pushed aside to make room for the dance floor.

I sighed, feeling a pang of guilt. I'd forgotten I was supposed to be in charge, supposed to make sure everything went smoothly. I'd let the party get out of hand, and now it was time to clean up the mess.

The music started up again, but I knew it was time to take a break. I signaled to Zoey and Caleb, and we started making our way through the crowd, trying to restore some semblance of order to the mansion. We started cleaning up the mess, trying to corral the trash and tidy up the living room. The party was still going strong, but we worked around the revelers, picking up cups and wiping down surfaces.

As the hours ticked by, the crowd began to thin out. Midnight came, and people started saying their goodbyes. The music died down, and the laughter and chatter grew quieter.

Finally, the last guest departed, leaving behind a sea of trash and debris. Zoey and Caleb stayed behind to help me clean, and we worked in silence, picking up the remnants of the party.

The task was daunting, and we didn't make much progress. There were bottles and cans everywhere, and the floors were sticky with spilled drinks. We worked tirelessly, but it was clear we wouldn't finish cleaning tonight. When we finally called it quits, Zoey and Caleb promised to come back tomorrow to help me finish the job. They hugged me goodbye, and I watched them leave, feeling exhausted.

I trudged up to my room, my legs aching from hours of cleaning. I collapsed onto my bed, feeling the weight of the day's events bearing down on me. I was tired, both physically and mentally. I closed my eyes, letting out a deep sigh, and drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The club was bathed in shadows. Lights flickered dimly above the bar, casting long silhouettes across the room. Roman sat still in a private booth, his suit sharp, his jaw tense. He wasn't here for drinks or entertainment—he was here for answers.

Across from him sat a man in a wrinkled suit, too confident for someone who knew Roman Cross's reputation. The girl stood near the bar, eyes darting between them. She was too young to be caught in this web of power and debt. Roman’s gaze flicked to her, then back to the man.

"You said you wanted to talk," Roman said coolly. "So talk."

The man smiled, lips thin. "I speak with money, Cross."

Roman leaned back, unimpressed. "Then say your price."

"Five million dollars. She walks free, and I disappear."

Silence stretched between them like a blade. Roman’s fingers tapped once on the table.

"Is that the highest you can go?" Roman asked, voice smooth but dangerous.

The man hesitated. Roman's eyes darkened—not with rage, but calculation.

Roman’s eyes lingered on the girl. Tears streamed silently down her face, but she didn’t move, didn’t speak. She’d been trained—conditioned—to stay still and quiet, like property. Roman felt the familiar burn in his chest. He hated this part of the world. And he hated the man sitting across from him even more.

"It’s only for a night, Cross," the man said, smiling smugly. "Don’t act like you’re a saint after you've f•ck women everywhere."

Roman’s voice was low and flat. "No nights today. Just take. Now."

The man leaned back, snorting. "If you don’t have the money, what’s your business here?"

Roman’s jaw tensed. He stood slowly, buttoning his coat. Then nodded once.

From the shadows, one of his men moved. The crack of a punch echoed through the quiet club. The man choked, falling to the ground with bloodied lips and missing teeth. Roman didn’t flinch.

"I pay in ways you don’t understand," Roman muttered before walking past him.

He gently reached for the girl, who flinched at first. But something in Roman’s eyes made her pause. Calm. Steady. Not threatening. She took his hand.

They walked out of the club and into the night. Roman stood in front while the girl followed to the car.

The car ride was quiet. The girl sat beside him, curled up like a cornered animal. Roman didn’t speak, didn’t ask questions. Not yet. He just drove.

Far from the noise, past city limits and dark roads, a tall iron gate opened into a vast estate hidden behind trees and silence. It wasn’t cold like the Cross mansion. It felt...safe.

This was Roman’s true home. A place he had built for them—the forgotten, the lost, the sold.

He opened the door and stepped aside.

“You’re safe here,” he said quietly. “No one will touch you again.”

And behind those walls, others just like her waited. Some healing, some still learning how to trust. Roman closed the gate behind him. Another life freed.

But his father's words still rang in his ears.

"You’ll never be a man if you protect the weak."

Roman knew better now.

He wasn’t his father.

And he didn’t need his approval.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MAI'S POV

Two days had passed since the party, and the mansion was finally spotless. I walked out of the grand entrance, feeling the warm sun on my skin and the fresh air filling my lungs. I took a deep breath, letting the cool breeze calm my mind. I decided to take a walk, to clear my head and process everything that happened. I strolled through the quiet streets, my feet carrying me to a place I hadn't visited in a long time.

The cemetery gates creaked when I pushed them open. I walked down the winding path, my eyes scanning the rows of headstones. I wasn't sure why I came here, but something drew me to this place.

When I turned a corner, I saw a familiar name etched into a grave tomb: Kingstone Isla. My heart skipped a beat when I approached the grave. It had been a long time since I'd visited my father's resting place.

I stood before the headstone, feeling a mix of emotions swirl inside me. Memories flooded my mind - memories of laughter, of tears, of happy times and sad times. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed him until now.

I reached out, tracing the letters of his name with my finger. "Dad," I whispered, my voice barely audible. I stood there for a long time, lost in thought, remembering the past and grappling with the present.

I looked up at the sky, my voice barely above a whisper. "Well, I'm an orphan, I guess. Because you left, even after all your fake promises."

I wiped away my tears, feeling a mix of sadness and anger. I hugged my knees, trying to comfort myself.

Just then, a gentle voice spoke up behind me. "Hey, little girl, what's wrong?"

I turned to see a man standing behind me, concern etched on his face. I felt a sob rise up in my throat, and tears streamed down my face. I looked up at him, my eyes red and puffy.

"Nothing," I managed to say. "Just visiting him."

The man's expression softened. "The dead are at peace," he said. "Let their souls rest."

I nodded, "What brings you here?" I asked, my voice still shaky from crying.

The old man's eyes misted over, and a soft smile spread across his face. "I'm here to meet my wife," he said, his voice filled with a deep longing.

I looked at him with surprise. "Your wife?" I repeated.

The old man nodded, his eyes gazing off into the distance. "Yes, she passed away a few years ago. I've been visiting her every week since then. It's my way of keeping her memory alive."

I felt a pang of understanding, seeing the love and devotion in his eyes. "You must have loved her very much," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

The old man nodded, his eyes welling up with tears. "I did," he said. "I still do."

We sat there in silence for a moment, the only sound being the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. I looked at the old man, and he looked back at me, his eyes red-rimmed but full of warmth.

"I'm sorry," I said, breaking the silence. "I didn't mean to intrude on your moment with your wife."

The old man smiled gently. "You're not intruding, child. It's nice to have someone to talk to. Sometimes, the silence can be overwhelming."

I nodded, understanding. "I know what you mean," I said. "I've been feeling lost lately, and talking to my dad...it's just something I needed to do."

The old man nodded sympathetically. "I think we all need to talk to those we've lost sometimes. It helps us process our emotions and find closure."

We sat there for a bit longer, enjoying the quiet companionship. Then, the old man stood up, his joints creaking with age. "I should be going," he said. "My mom will be waiting."

I smiled and stood up, brushing off my clothes. "It was nice talking to you," I said.

The old man smiled back, his eyes twinkling. "Likewise, child. Take care of yourself, okay?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgo Cross stood alone, sipping his wine, his eyes fixed on his son Roman with a mixture of disgust and anger. Roman was supposed to follow in his footsteps, to make him proud, but instead he was wasting his life on foolish causes.

Roman's involvement in anti-human trafficking efforts only fueled Virgo's contempt. He saw it as a pointless endeavor, a waste of time and resources. Virgo believed Roman should focus on building the family business, increasing their wealth and influence.

The wine glass in Virgo's hand seemed to tremble with rage, his grip tightening. He felt a deep-seated resentment towards Roman, a sense of betrayal that went beyond just disappointment. Virgo's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with ways to punish Roman for his perceived transgressions.

Virgo's hatred for Roman grew stronger with each passing moment. He couldn't understand why Roman couldn't see things from his perspective. Virgo's anger simmered just below the surface, waiting to boil over into something more.

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