Seducing My Ex's Father

The champagne tasted expensive. The kiss tasted dangerous. Amelia Carter never imagined that the first man to steal her breath after three years of loving Liam Kingston would be the one man she could never have. His father. The grand ballroom glittered beneath crystal chandeliers, every corner overflowing with wealth and influence. Politicians laughed over glasses of vintage wine, celebrities posed for photographers, and billionaires exchanged smiles worth millions. Amelia stood among them in a black satin gown that hugged her figure like a second skin. She didn't belong here. Not really. She was only here because Liam had insisted. "Tonight is important," he had told her that morning. "Father is announcing something big. I want everyone to see the woman I'm going to marry." Those words had replayed in her mind all evening. The woman I'm going to marry. She smiled to herself. Three years together. Three years of surviving university while Liam spoiled her with midnight drives, handwritten letters, and promises that sounded too beautiful to break. Tonight, she believed those promises were finally becoming real. Then she saw him. Across the ballroom. Alexander Kingston. He stood alone near the panoramic windows overlooking Manhattan's skyline, one hand resting inside the pocket of his tailored tuxedo while the other held a crystal glass of whiskey. Forty-seven. Cold. Unreadable. The billionaire every financial magazine called ruthless. The man whose name alone could change the stock market. His silver-black hair framed a face carved with quiet authority rather than age. His sharp jaw, broad shoulders, and calm confidence drew eyes without demanding attention. He wasn't merely handsome. He was intimidating. Women admired him from a distance. Men respected him because they had no choice. Amelia had met him only twice. Both encounters had been brief. He rarely smiled. Rarely spoke. Yet somehow, every time she looked up, she found him watching her. Not with desire. Not even curiosity. Almost... Concern. It made no sense. "You're staring." Amelia turned, smiling as Liam wrapped an arm around her waist. "You look nervous." "I am." "You don't need to be." He kissed her forehead. "After tonight, everyone important in this city will know your name." She laughed softly. "I only care that one person knows it." "Oh?" "You." Liam grinned. "You already own my heart." Heat rose to Amelia's cheeks. He still knew exactly what to say. Exactly how to make her believe she was the luckiest woman alive. Music floated through the ballroom as couples drifted onto the dance floor. Liam extended a hand. "May I?" She placed hers in his. The orchestra shifted into a slow melody. He pulled her close. "So," Amelia whispered, "what's the announcement?" "You'll see." "You always do this." "What?" "Keeping secrets." "They're worth the wait." She rolled her eyes. "If you disappoint me—" "I never disappoint." "You sound very confident." "I have every reason to be." His smile was perfect. Too perfect. Across the room, Alexander watched them dance. For the first time all evening, their eyes met. Something unreadable flickered across his face. Regret. No... Warning. Amelia frowned. Before she could understand it, Alexander looked away. "Liam." "Hm?" "Your father keeps looking at me." Liam's expression stiffened for the smallest fraction of a second before he chuckled. "He's probably wondering how I convinced someone as beautiful as you to stay with me." "You think that's funny?" "I think he's jealous." She laughed. "Of his own son?" "Every man gets jealous eventually." The song ended. Applause echoed. A waiter approached Liam and whispered something into his ear. Liam sighed. "I'll be right back." "You've been saying that all night." "This time I promise." He kissed her forehead again before disappearing through a side hallway reserved for family and executives. Amelia watched him go. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Guests began gathering toward the stage for Alexander's speech. Still no Liam. Her phone buzzed. Liam: Busy. Two minutes. She smiled. Typical. A young waitress hurried past carrying a tray of champagne. "Excuse me," Amelia asked politely. "Did you see Mr. Liam Kingston?" The waitress hesitated. "I... I think he went upstairs." "Upstairs?" "The private suites." Amelia frowned. "He said it was urgent." "Oh." She thanked the waitress and made her way toward the elevators. The higher floors were silent compared to the lively ballroom below. Luxury suites lined the hallway. Soft carpet muffled every footstep. Her heels clicked gently as she checked the room numbers. "Liam?" No answer. She reached Suite 1808. The door wasn't fully closed. She smiled. "There you are." She pushed it open. Her smile disappeared. A woman's dress lay on the floor. A man's jacket beside it. Her heartbeat stopped. No... No. She took another step. Laughter. A woman's breathless laugh. Then Liam's voice. "I told you she'd never come up here." Another laugh. The sound of a kiss. Amelia's fingers trembled against the doorframe. Every instinct screamed for her to run. Instead... She pushed the door open wider. And the world she had spent three years building shattered into a thousand pieces.