HE RUINED ME, NOW I'M HIS STEPMOTHER

Survival

The contractions started at 3 AM in a London studio apartment I rented– it barely fit a bed. I was alone, rain hammering the window,and no one to call for help. I dialed emergency services with shaking hands.

"My water just broke. I'm alone,”I cried into the phone. A few minutes later, the ambulance came and I was rushed to the hospital.

At the hospital, when they asked about the father, I said, "He is dead. I'm her only parent." Because well, Marcus might as well be.

At 6:47 AM, I gave birth to my baby girl. Tiny, perfect, and shiny dark hair that looked like his.

"Name?" the nurse asked.

"Lily Thomas," I whispered, severing her ties to the Blackwell family forever.

Six years blurred together. Waitressing with Lily on my back, night classes, working at a fashion house, and sketching designs during lunch. And finally, my work got noticed.

A boutique picked up three pieces, then a department store, and soon I had a magazine feature. It all seemed like a miracle, but I knew it was mostly my hard work.

Four years later, I launched Luminère Fashion, and it expanded into a big name people wanted to own and wear. And by the time my baby Lily turned six, Luminère was worth fifty million dollars.

Take that, Marcus!

"Mommy?" Lily called as she looked up from her breakfast one morning. Nutella toast because I was a terrible mother who let her daughter eat chocolate for breakfast.

"Yes, baby?"

"When are we going to see daddy"

I froze, the hot coffee mug burning my palms, but I couldn't feel the pain amidst the one in my heart.

I turned slowly to her, my hands trembling slightly. “Baby.”

“I know you said I don't have a daddy, but Cynthia in class said everyone has a daddy. You only come into the world, when there's a Dad and Mum.”

Her words hit me in my chest and I quickly ran to her after dropping the coffee. I bent down to her height and wrapped her small body in my arms. “Oh baby… Cynthia isn't totally wrong,” I said calmly, even though my whole body was shaking with anxiety.

How do I explain to a six year old that her Father only wants a son, and if he had found out she was a girl when she was conceived, he would have gotten rid of her.

Of course I couldn't tell her that.

“Really?” Her eyes glowed with curiosity. “Then why is Daddy not here?”

I sighed heavily and pulled her face to look at me. “Daddy is not here because —” the word hung in my throat.

She looked up, her smile growing in expectation of what I was about to tell her.

“Your Daddy is a superhero,” I blurted out in panic. My face flushed with embarrassment as I realized what I had just said. I wanted to slap myself– no I wanted to take it back.

But just then her eyes widened “Really Mommy?” She said in a soft yet knowing voice, before jumping out of my arms. I bit my lip feeling so stupid. Of course she wouldn't believe it.

“Yayyyy! My daddy is a superhero!”

I looked at her in surprise.

Wait! She believed it?

“Is he like Captain America?” She asked excitedly, and I nodded absentmindedly.

“I want to see him. Let's go to America!" She screamed.

My heart stopped. "What?"

"You said Daddy was in America. Captain America stays in America, so does Daddy, I'm sure,” she giggled. “Let's go see him.”

I bit my lip as frustration clawed through me. I thought I had freed myself from Marcus' shackles– but even when he wasn't here, his decision manipulated my life still.

I stood up and began to walk back to the kitchen counter. "No, baby. We won't see him."

But she wasn't satisfied. “Please mummy. Please. Please. Let's go see my superhero daddy!”

Just then, my phone pinged with an incoming notification. I pulled it out, and stared at the New York Fashion Week confirmation.

“4729 Maplewood Drive, Brookhaven, NY 11721” the address read.

Oh f**k no!

Brookhaven?

Marcus city?

“Is the universe f*****g with me?!” I whispered angrily under my breath.

My head turned to Lily whose face was now filled with tears. I sighed and pulled her into my arms. “Don't cry baby. My princess will get what she wants,” I said soothingly over head. “We're going to America.”

****

The fashion week pre-party was at some ridiculous penthouse in Manhattan. I'd left Lily with the nanny at the hotel and came here in a black dress that hugged every curve, telling myself it was networking.

The room buzzed with designers, models, and investors. Champagnes were surplus, so I grabbed another glass and tried to look like I belonged.

And that's when I saw him.

He was leaning against the bar. Tall, broad shoulders in an expensive suit that I knew cost more than a fortune. Dark hair with hints of silver at the temples. He had to be in his late forties. He was way older than me.

But God, he was gorgeous— in that dangerous delicious way.

He looked at me, and our eyes finally locked. Heat crawled up my neck, and I told myself I should look away. I should go talk to someone else.

But I didn't. Instead I stood rooted in my spot as I watched him walk towards me, each step slow and deliberate.

“Hi,” my voice came out softer than I intended.

“Hello. I'm James, and you are?”

“Aria. Aria Thomas,” I said, my voice managing sound steady despite the turmoil that sent through my body.

The rest of the night was a blur really. We danced and talked, and soon, I felt his hand talking through my body, touching places that I shouldn't let a stranger touch– talk more of one who looked like he could be my father.

But he wasn't my Father. And I was honestly tired of constantly holding back because of fear of what people would say. So I smiled and nodded when he invited me to his house.

His penthouse was on the top floor. It was all glass windows and expensive furniture which I barely noticed because his mouth was on mine the second the door closed.

He kissed me like he was starving. His hands raked through my hair, and then slammed my back against the wall. I kissed him back with as much passion, my tongue ravaging the inside of his mouth, drinking him like I had been starved for years. Because I actually was. Six years of only using my hands to satisfy myself. I couldn't even afford to buy a toy because I was too scared of Lily finding it when she started to play in my room, like she always did on weekends.

He picked me up easily and then I wrapped my legs around his waist, before he carried me to the bedroom, and then laid me on the bed.

"Tell me to stop," he groaned into my ears, licking and sucking it before he gave it a small bite. His hands roamed my body and I felt goosebumps grew all over my skin

"Fu– f**k please no. Don't stop."

He chuckled darkly and whispered darkly, "Good girl."

He unzipped my dress, and I let him slip it off easily, exposing my naked body to him

For a few minutes he just stood there,staring at my body, like he was trying to study it— memorise it. But I wasn't fully comfortable with my body yet. I was well aware of the slight changes in my body like the stretch mark that lines my stomach from the time I was pregnant.

I moved to cover my body, but before I could even touch myself, he grabbed my hands and pushed it to the top of my head, pinning it.

“Don't. Don't you ever cover your body in front of me. You have no idea how insanely beautiful— No. Even that is not enough to describe how f*****g eccentric you look right now,” he growled and his voice went straight to my head, and I blushed. I felt the heat pool at the bottom of my stomach.

"You're perfect,” he murmured, as his mouth claimed my neck, his tongue training down my collarbones then to my cleavage.

I buckled under him and I felt my p***y pulsed before I moved to clench my thighs. Though he held it before they could even come together.

I arched into him, my hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

He took his time kissing, touching and then learning every part of me.

When he finally pushed his member inside me, I gasped. He was big…so big that it took almost three minutes to adjust to his length.

I thought Marcus was big– but his c**k could not even compare to half of James.

"Look at me," he commanded, and I obeyed more easily than I had ever listened to anyone in my life. His eyes locked on mine as he moved. He was slow at first, and then he started to increase his pace, thrusting harder and harder into me.

My nails dug into his back, and he let out a throaty groan, the sound sending heat through my entire body.

"Say my name," he said.

"James."

"Again,” he smashed his hips into my thighs, making his c**k hit that spot I never knew existed.

"James! f**k!!!!” I cried as I came apart underneath him, my body trembling from the wildest orgasm I had ever received in my entire life.

After we were done, I placed my head on his chest as his hand rubbed my sore p***y. I should pull his hands away, leave, and get to my daughter, but I couldn't even force myself to move.