Claimed by my mother's husband

Ava I should have been happy. My mother deserved this, the fairy-tale wedding, the billionaire husband, the promise of a life without financial worries. But standing in the grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel, watching her exchange vows with Richard Steele, all I felt was a cold knot of unease in my stomach. The ballroom was a vision straight out of a magazine. Crystal chandeliers hung from the soaring ceiling like frozen fireworks, casting rainbows across the marble floors. White roses and peonies adorned every surface, their perfume mixing with the expensive cologne of New York's elite. Two hundred guests filled the gilded chairs, all of them here to witness my mother's transformation from struggling single parent to billionaire's wife. Mom looked radiant in her ivory silk gown, the one Richard had insisted on buying from some exclusive designer whose name I couldn't pronounce. Her auburn hair was swept up in an elegant chignon, and for the first time in years, the worry lines around her green eyes had disappeared. She was glowing with happiness, and that should have been enough for me. But then there was Richard. He stood at the altar like he owned the world, which, considering his net worth, he practically did. At fifty-four, he was still devastatingly handsome in that distinguished older man way that made women of all ages turn their heads. His silver hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place. His black tuxedo was clearly custom-made, fitting his tall, lean frame like it had been sewn directly onto his body. Everything about Richard Steele screamed power and control. The way he held his shoulders, the confident tilt of his chin, even the way he breathed seemed calculated. He was a man who had built an empire from nothing and crushed anyone who stood in his way. The business magazines called him ruthless. The society pages called him a catch. I called him unsettling. "Do you, Richard, take Catherine to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the minister asked. Richard's voice was deep and commanding as it carried across the silent ballroom. "I do." But his eyes weren't on my mother as he spoke. They were on me. The look lasted maybe three seconds, but it felt like an eternity. His steel-gray gaze held mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. There was something calculating in those eyes, something that made me feel like prey being sized up by a predator. Then he blinked, turned back to Mom, and slipped the massive diamond ring onto her finger. I told myself I had imagined it. Wedding nerves, that's all. I was being paranoid. The ceremony continued, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Richard was watching me. Every time I glanced his way, his attention seemed to be on my mother, but the back of my neck prickled with awareness. It was like being studied by something dangerous that was pretending to be tame. "You may kiss the bride." The guests erupted in applause as Richard cupped Mom's face and kissed her with the kind of passion that made me look away. It felt too intimate, too possessive for such a public moment. When they finally broke apart, Mom was breathless and flushed. Richard looked satisfied, like a man who had just claimed something valuable. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Richard Steele!" The ballroom exploded with cheers and the sound of champagne glasses clinking. I clapped along, forcing my brightest smile as my mother and her new husband walked down the aisle. Mom caught my eye and winked, her happiness so pure and radiant that my heart ached. She had been through so much, Dad's death when I was twelve, the years of struggling to make ends meet, working two jobs to put me through college. If anyone deserved a fairy-tale ending, it was her. So why did I feel like something terrible was about to happen? The reception was a blur of congratulations, small talk, and champagne that tasted like it cost more than my monthly rent. I smiled until my cheeks hurt, made polite conversation with Richard's business associates, and danced with a handful of his son's college friends who seemed more interested in my connection to the Steele fortune than in me. I was nursing my third glass of champagne and trying to avoid a particularly persistent investment banker when my best friend Sarah appeared at my elbow. "You look like you're about to bolt," she said, her dark eyes concerned. "Everything okay?" "Just tired," I lied. "It's been a long day." Sarah studied my face with the kind of knowing look that came from fifteen years of friendship. "It's weird, right? Your mom being married to someone like him?" "Someone like him?" "Come on, Ava. The man's powerful enough to buy small countries. He's gorgeous, he's rich, and he's got that whole mysterious dangerous vibe going on. It's like your mom married Christian Grey." I nearly choked on my champagne. "Sarah!" "What? I'm just saying, he's intense. Have you seen the way he looks at her? Like he wants to devour her whole." Sarah paused, then added more quietly, "Actually, have you noticed how he looks at you?" The blood drained from my face. "What do you mean?" "Maybe I'm imagining things, but during the ceremony, I swear he was staring at you more than at your mom. And not in a 'welcome to the family' way." Before I could respond, Sarah's expression changed. She was looking over my shoulder, her eyes wide. "Speak of the devil," she murmured, then quickly melted back into the crowd. I turned around to find Richard standing directly behind me. Up close, he was even more imposing than I remembered. He towered over my five-foot-six frame, and the expensive fabric of his tuxedo did nothing to hide the lean muscle underneath. This was not a man who spent his days behind a desk. This was a man who stayed in fighting shape. "Ava," he said, my name rolling off his tongue like he was tasting it. "Having a good time?" "Yes, of course. It's a beautiful wedding. Mom looks so happy." "She does." But he wasn't looking at my mother. His eyes were fixed on me with that same unsettling intensity I'd noticed during the ceremony. "You look beautiful tonight." "Thank you." I tried to step back, but found myself trapped between Richard and a pillar decorated with white roses. He moved closer, close enough that I could smell his cologne, something expensive and masculine that made my head swim. "That dress is perfect for you. Blue has always been my favorite color." I looked down at my navy silk dress, suddenly self-conscious. "I should go check on Mom—" "She's fine. She's dancing with my business partner." His voice dropped to almost a whisper. "I wanted to talk to you privately." My heart started beating faster. "About what?" Richard's smile was slow and predatory. "About us. About our new... arrangement." "Arrangement?" "We're family now, Ava. That means we'll be seeing a lot more of each other." His hand came up to rest against the pillar beside my head, effectively caging me in. "Your mother will be traveling with me quite a bit for business. Extended trips. Months at a time." I swallowed hard. "That's nice for her." "Which means you'll often be alone in that big house with me." His eyes darkened as they traveled slowly down my body and back up to my face. "Just the two of us." "Richard, I don't think.." "You know what I realized tonight, watching you during the ceremony?" He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "You're more breathtaking than the bride." The words hit me like a physical blow. I pressed myself back against the pillar, my heart hammering so hard I was sure he could hear it. "That's inappropriate. She's my mother. She's your wife." "And you're my stepdaughter." The way he said it made it sound like something dirty. "My beautiful, intelligent, twenty-four-year-old stepdaughter who lives under my roof now." "I have my own apartment—" "Not anymore. I had your lease terminated. Your things are already being moved to the estate." His smile widened at my shocked expression. "Surprise. Catherine thought it would be nice for us all to be one big happy family." "You can't just.." "I can do whatever I want, Ava. I own this city. I own politicians, judges, police commissioners. I could buy and sell your entire life ten times over without blinking." His voice was still soft, conversational, but there was steel underneath. "But I don't want to own you. I want you to come to me willingly." I felt like I couldn't breathe. "This is insane. You just married my mother." "Yes, I did. And now you're mine too." He straightened up, adjusting his cufflinks casually. "Don't worry. I'm a patient man. I can wait for you to realize what you want." "I want you to leave me alone." Richard laughed, a rich sound that should have been warm but instead sent chills down my spine. "No, you don't. You're scared, but you're also intrigued. I can see it in your eyes." He leaned in one last time, his lips brushing against my ear. "I always get what I want, Ava. Always. And I want you." Then he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd as if our conversation had never happened. I stood frozen against the pillar, my whole body shaking. Around me, the wedding reception continued, laughter, music, clinking glasses, but it all seemed to fade into background noise. My heart raced as the full reality of what had just happened crashed over me. Richard Steele, my mother's new husband, had just made his intentions crystal clear. And the most terrifying part wasn't his words or his threats. It was the way he looked at me, like I already belonged to him.m