The Biker Gigolo In My Bed Is My Stepson

Chapter One Elysia's POV “Yes, Daddy…ahhh, give it to me!” I heard the sultry voice accompanied by a ragged moan coming from the restroom. I didn’t even need to step inside to know exactly what was happening. But who could be shameless enough to have s*x in a public restroom? Nobody other than my husband and some w***e. Even with that knowledge, I remained perfectly calm as I stood outside the door, my expression unreadable while I waited for them to come out. “s**t!” His loud groan echoed from inside, followed by a wet, sloshing sound. Not long after, the restroom door swung open, revealing my husband, sweaty and disheveled. “Dante,” I called gently. He didn’t look guilty when his eyes met mine. Instead, his lips pursed in mild annoyance. “What are you doing outside the door? Do you want to join us?” Dante asked. I rolled my eyes. I bet you’re wondering what kind of wife could remain this calm after catching her husband cheating. Well, that would be because Dante and I weren’t a normal couple. Dante Miller, one of the most powerful men in the country, was my husband. He was twice my age, while I was nothing more than his trophy wife, bought with his money. But was it really that simple? Of course not. “No, I’ll pass. Can you ask your slut to come out now?” I said evenly. Dante turned his head and called out to the woman. I watched as she staggered out, looking disheveled and unsteady on her feet. She was the organizer of the party we were attending tonight, a woman in her thirties with pretty features. Judging by how sweaty she looked, there was no way I had imagined what had happened. My husband had stooped so low as to sleep with the organizer of a gathering we had both been invited to, without even caring whether a reporter might catch them. And if you’re wondering why I wasn’t walking away from this piece of s**t, it was because I wasn’t in a position to. And I had my greedy father to thank for that. My father, Christopher Monroe, owed Dante a fortune after a failed investment. My once-respected family became the laughingstock of the country almost overnight because of it. But somehow, a company that had been standing on the brink of bankruptcy suddenly came back to life, saved by none other than Dante Miller... the very man my father owed. And do you know what he wanted in return? Me. I was the collateral for the deal. He saved my father’s company in exchange for my hand in marriage. My consent? Who the f**k gave a damn about that? I was handed over to Dante anyway. Later, I discovered that he hadn’t married me because he had fallen in love with me. He married me because I was someone who made him look good. The moment I realized there was nothing waiting for me in this loveless marriage except the benefits that came with being Dante Miller’s wife, I decided to use it to my advantage. If I was going to be married to a man old enough to be my father, then I had better be compensated for it. And that was exactly why I had started building an influence of my own. “You couldn’t even keep it down? What if reporters stumbled onto this?” I muttered, glancing toward his assistant, who had just hurried over. “Vet the area and make sure there are no reporters around,” I ordered. The man immediately hurried away. “Always thorough. That’s why I chose you, after all,” Dante said. He reached for my chin and brushed his lips against my cheek. I shivered despite myself. Dante might have been a middle-aged man in his late forties, but there was a certain charm about him. That was probably why I hadn’t been completely disgusted by our marriage at first. But he proved me wrong on our wedding night. He had told me clearly that I was nothing more than his trophy wife and that I should forget about performing any wifely duties. Which meant our marriage had been completely sexless. “Yes, that’s why you chose me. But I think if you want to handle your business…” I began, suppressing the irritation building inside my chest. What kind of woman wouldn’t be irritated after finding her husband cheating on her? “Don’t nag. You become ugly when you do that,” he said coldly. I chuckled softly and bit my lip, sealing away the curse words threatening to spill out. I couldn’t afford to get on Dante’s bad side. My father would murder me. “Sorry. You should go in first. I need to touch up my makeup,” I said. He nodded and walked away arrogantly. I stepped into the restroom, ignoring the used condom lying on the floor, and walked toward the mirror to fix my makeup. “You can do it, Elysia. You just have to keep holding on,” I whispered, staring at my reflection. After forcing my emotions back into their cage, I let a fake smile curl across my lips... the same smile I had perfected over the years. Then I walked back into the ballroom with that smile firmly in place. Dante was talking to the Prime Minister. He didn’t look anything like a man who had just f****d a woman in a restroom. “Elysia,” Dante called gently, ushering me toward him. People immediately gushed over the sweetness in his voice, while I simply smiled, feeding their delusion of the happy couple we pretended to be. Dante was obsessed with maintaining that illusion. As I walked over, I noticed several young men in the room staring at me, something heated and captivated in their eyes. The moment Dante noticed their attention, jealousy flashed across his face. He walked toward me and wrapped an arm tightly around my waist. “You took a long time,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my neck. But I could tell from his tone that he was irritated. “I was taking care of things,” I replied evenly. The ball ended not long after, and we headed home together. The tenderness Dante had displayed earlier disappeared the moment he stepped into the car. I dropped my act as the docile wife too. “Can I talk about what happened earlier? You can’t keep sleeping around when…” I began, breaking the silence in the car. I stopped when Dante shot me a sharp glare. I wanted to tell him that I was a young woman with needs too. He didn’t see me going around sleeping with every man I happened to meet. So why was it so difficult for a man who was almost fifty to keep his pants on? “Then you can have your fun too. Or did I stop you?” Dante blurted out as he lit his cigar. I froze. Have my fun too? Did he mean an open marriage? I pursed my lips at his words. I didn’t want to believe that was what he meant, so I decided to ask. “What do you mean by that?” I asked, my voice barely steady. He didn’t look like he had any intention of repeating himself. But I knew exactly what he meant. He was throwing that open-marriage offer at me yet again, even though he knew damn well I would never try it. My father would murder me if he found out I had cheated in this already loveless marriage. “Make a stop,” he instructed his chauffeur. The car slowed, and Dante gestured for me to get out. “I have a meeting with an investor. Catch a cab home,” he said. Even though I knew it was a lie... that he was probably going to meet one of his mistresses... I wasn’t mad. Not this time. “That foolish old man!” I cursed under my breath as I watched the car drive away without so much as a second glance. The night wind hit me, cold and sharp against my skin, making me shiver. Still, I gritted my teeth and looked across the road. A host bar stood directly ahead, its lights glowing brightly while faint music spilled onto the street. Then a wild, reckless idea formed in my head. Since he wanted a marriage where we were both free to do whatever we wanted, then I would give him exactly that. “Didn’t he say I can try it too? Then he shouldn’t blame me for being too bold,” I muttered under my breath. I crossed to the other side of the road, a cocky smirk tugging at my lips. Tonight, I was going against everything I believed in. I was going wild. Open marriage? Of course!