CHAPTER 1: STEPBROTHER OR STEPFATHER
ESIA
The car slowed, and the wrought-iron gates opened to reveal a driveway curved through lawns so immaculate they looked airbrushed.
This wasn't a house, but a Goddamn Palace. My mother had really done it. She’d escaped the life she’d scraped through with my father.
The car came to a halt beneath the portico, with the driver opening my door with a gloved hand extended. I took it, stepping out like some storybook princess who’d forgotten she belonged in the gutter.
My mother burst through the massive double doors at that exact moment, hands clamped over her mouth, eyes already welling with tears. The ten years since I'd seen her hadn't touched her. In fact, she looked younger, like time had decided to be kind only to her.
“Esia," her voice cracked as she reached for me, wrapping her arms around me before I could brace myself and pulling me into a Chanel-scented hug. “Thank you for coming.”
My throat felt thick as I hugged her back. “Of course. We had to talk at some point, right?” I took the credit, recalling full well how I almost hadn't come if it hadn't been for my best friend, who convinced me to.
My mother drew back just enough to cup my face, her thumbs brushing against my cheeks as she told me what a beautiful woman I'd become. “Come inside, darling. Let's get you settled in.”
She linked her arm through mine and ushered me through the doors. The foyer took my breath away, and just then, a uniformed staff member appeared with chilled champagne on a silver tray, while another took my coat like I was royalty. I took the flute and whispered a thank-you while trying not to gawk.
“This place is… beautiful,” I said, my voice hushed with awe. And she squeezed my arm, glowing. “Thank you, sweetheart. All I've ever wanted was to share all this with you.”
We moved deeper inside, and I was still turning when sharp, confident footsteps tapped against the marble above us.
We both looked up at the same time, and Mom's face lit up with the biggest smile. "You're home," she said, looking up at the man whose face I hadn't yet seen before returning my gaze. “Honey, meet my fiancé, Larz Wolfe. Larz… my daughter Theresia—”
My soul left my body, and I staggered as a stomach-curling memory slammed against me.
~Flashback~
The air was tinged with the faint scent of cigar smoke and expensive cologne as I reached for the silk robe tied loosely around my waist, letting it pool at my feet.
The music throbbed faintly behind the glass, with a sultry beat that urged my hips to sway despite my racing thoughts.
I'd never gone all in with a client before, but I needed the money.
He sat partially swallowed by the shadows, his broad shoulders hunched slightly, a glass of amber liquid gleaming in his hand.
A mask obscured his face, but I caught his intense gaze as I drew my fingers closer to the thatch of dark hair between my thighs, tracing the curve of my p***y like a map to lost treasure.
He was drunk, as evidenced by the way he shifted restlessly, his c**k already straining against his tailored pants, but there was a magnetic pull about him, a raw charisma that drew me in despite my guarded feelings.
The man leaned forward, his voice a gravelly murmur that echoed off the walls and through the music. “That’s it, beautiful. Show me more.”
That was all I needed, and I slid down slowly, my thighs clenching the pole as I ground my hips in hypnotic circles.
My p***y throbbed with an unexpected ache of forbidden excitement, which I tried to conceal beneath the facade of my act, and I twirled around the pole, facing away from him to give myself a much-needed break from his gaze.
But he would not have that. He directed me to turn around, and I did, his gaze alluring as it traced the curve of my breasts and the damp folds of my exposed p***y, which I couldn't help but flaunt with a defiant roll of my hips.
I lost myself in the dance, the pole being my only anchor in the haze of vulnerability, until the man leaned forward, his hand cutting through the dim light as he crooked a finger at me, his voice a rough command that cut through the throbbing beat.
“Come here now.”
I let go of the pole and dropped to my knees, crawling forward on all fours, his possessiveness wrapping around me like an invisible chain, drawing me deeper into the web of desire I craved and feared.
Reaching him, my hands trailed up the rough fabric of his trousers, tracing the firm muscles that tensed under my touch.
But before I could lose myself any further, his hands shot out, gripping my waist with surprising strength and throwing me onto the cool leather sofa.
A thrill shot straight to my core as I lay there, exposed and vulnerable, while he snatched the glass of amber liquid from the side table.
His dark eyes returned to mine, intent, as he tipped the glass without saying a word, and the liquid cascaded across my chest.
It splashed over my breasts, dousing each one in turn, and I writhed as the cold burn tightened my n*****s even more, with rivulets trickling down my curves.
Another moan ripped through my throat as waves of pleasure coursed through my body, and as if prompted by the sounds, his hands slid down to my thighs, parting them with a possessive firmness that made my breath catch.
He positioned himself between my thighs, drinking in my exposed p***y while pouring more whiskey down my inner thighs.
The liquid left a delicious trail of fire on my sensitive flesh, and my hips bucked involuntarily as I writhed helplessly beneath him. I couldn’t stop the words that spilled from my lips next, my voice barely a whisper.
“Please… f**k me.”
I'd crossed the line under the onslaught of pleasure. Regardless of how charming he appeared or how gentle his touch felt, he was still a client, and my job was to entertain and provide him with the fantasy he'd paid for, even if it meant edging me for hours.
I had no business asking him for his d**k. So my lips parted as I prepared to apologize, but before the words could escape, his hands roughly parted my thighs wider as he freed his c**k from his pants. It was thick and huge, pulsing with urgency. And a loud moan erupted from my chest as the head pressed into my wetness with a delicious stretch that arched my back.
He thrust into me, filling me to the brim, and I cried out from the intensity as he moved inside me with a relentless, commanding rhythm. I lost myself in the haze, the weight of his body pinning me down, the musky scent of our shared arousal, his cologne, and the fading whiskey, turning me inside out.
Each thrust hit the perfect spot, eliciting uncontrollable cries of pleasure, until he suddenly flooded the room with light, leaving me squinting my eyes in confusion. My heart raced faster and faster as I watched him remove the mask from his face, and a gasp escaped my throat as the fabric hit the ground, his eyes locking on mine.
“You?” I whispered, staring at the ruthless CEO who had recently inherited a billion-dollar empire from his father... Larz Wolfe, my stepbrother.
“Esia?” My mother's concerned voice slashed through the memory.
~End of flashback~
“Honey, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”
The champagne flute slipped out of my grasp and shattered at my feet.
I f****d my mother's fiancé.
Wait... she's supposed to be his stepmother.
