Falling For My Stepsister’s Father

Chapter 7

I excused myself the moment dinner ended, too flushed and too overwhelmed to stay seated at that long table another second. His eyes had been on me the entire time, steady and watchful, cutting straight through me like he could peel me open and see every secret I had ever buried.

By the time I reached the bathroom on the same floor, my breath was a mess. I leaned hard against the counter, both palms flat, my chest rising too fast. My heart thudded painfully, like it wanted out.

God.

I still couldn’t believe I reacted this badly to the sight of blood. Every time. No matter how small. No matter how controlled. The panic always found me. When would it end? When would I stop feeling like a child trapped in the dark all over again?

My eyes throbbed the way they always did after triggers, like someone had pressed sharp fingers into them from the inside. My head pulsed with a low, deep ache. Familiar pain. The kind that came only when memories stirred. The kind that stayed with me long after the memories themselves slipped back underground.

I turned the tap on and slipped my fingers under the stream. The cold water rushed over my skin, cooling me from the outside in. I needed it. My insides were burning. They had been burning since Alderic looked at me from across the table—unblinking, unreadable, like he knew exactly what the blood on his sleeve did to me.

I didn’t want to think he cut himself on purpose. What good would that even do? Why would he?

Surely he wasn’t trying to steer Luca’s attention away from me. That made no sense.

Don’t be ridiculous, Sera. You still act like everyone’s world revolves around yours.

I scrubbed my hands again. And again. And again. The repetitive motion grounded me, but it hurt too, the skin growing red and raw, the sting spreading across my knuckles. I didn’t care. The pain was easier to control than my thoughts.

I was so far inside my head I didn’t hear the door open. I didn’t hear the soft footsteps on the tiles until a voice, smooth and feminine, sliced through my fog.

“He’s a mystery, isn’t he?”

I gasped and spun around so fast the water splashed onto the floor. My gaze collided with bright, icy blue eyes.

Magdalene.

“S–Sorry?” My voice came out breathless, thin. Weak. I always sounded tired, even when I tried not to.

Magdalene’s smile didn’t shift an inch. It was perfectly fixed, as if glued onto her face. She glided toward the counter like she owned not just the bathroom but the entire house; hips swaying lightly, chin high, chest forward. Every movement smooth, calculated and elegant. Everything I was not.

“I see the way you look at him,” she said softly. Even the way she reached for the soap and washed her hands was graceful, like she had trained her whole life for it.

“I don’t understand,” I murmured.

Her eyes flicked to me in the mirror. “You want him. Don’t you?”

My heart plunged straight into my stomach. My throat closed. My eyes widened until they almost hurt. Words tried to form but stayed stuck, heavy and useless on my tongue.

Oh God.

Had she noticed?

Had she seen me staring at Alderic all evening?

Had she seen me lick my lips when he unbuttoned his shirt?

God, help me. He was her fiancé. And now she thought I wanted him.

I was going to be kicked out of this house before I even lived in it.

“I don’t—”

She shut the tap with a violent twist. The metal squealed under her hand. When she turned, her smile remained in place, but her eyes—those bright blue eyes—were nothing but cold.

“I know your type,” she said, folding her arms. She looked at me the way people look at things they scrape off their shoe. “You latch onto the first man who gives you a little attention. Even better if he’s rich.”

My fingers curled at my sides, my nails digging so hard into my palms I felt the skin break. Anything to hold back the crack of pain in my chest.

“I was like that once,” she added with a shrug. “So trust me. I know.”

Did she mean she latched onto Alderic too?

“But I won’t let you get close to what’s mine,” she continued, her voice dropping, sharpened now. “Not this time. I’ve seen your type too often. I can spot you from a mile away. And if you get too close… I will end you.”

Her gaze dragged over my body, slow and disgusted, stopping at my neck where the top of my tattoos peeked out. She recoiled slightly, her lips lifting in a small sneer.

If this was her reaction to the little she could see, what would happen if she saw all of them?

Then she laughed. “Did you think he would look at you? My son Luca? Please—”

Wait.

Hold on.

“Luca?” I whispered, confused.

Her eyes narrowed. “Yes. Luca. Who else? I saw the way you eyeballed him throughout dinner. Did you think he would want you? Even with the expensive clothes my stepdaughter lent you, I could smell where you came from. Garbage will always smell, no matter how you try to hide it.”

It should have hurt.

Maybe it did.

But instead something inside me snapped—cleanly and loudly. A small unladylike snort escaped me, then grew, and grew, until I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

I burst into laughter. Real laughter. Sharp, loud, chest-tightening laughter that bent me forward. Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes.

Magdalene stared at me like I had grown horns. Her arms slowly unfolded, disbelief widening her eyes.

“Did I say something funny?” Her voice trembled. Her earlier confidence leaked away bit by bit, like a knife losing its edge. I felt a small thrill rush through me.

I wiped my eyes and straightened up, meeting her stare.

“You should look in the mirror too, Ms. Magdalene. Between the two of us, I think we both know who is doing the latching.”

Her face drained of color, turning the shade of cracked porcelain. Inside, I shook like a leaf. I never fought back. I never spoke up. But something raw and new had crawled up my spine and refused to sit quietly.

I stepped closer until our faces were inches apart. Her eyes burned. Mine burned right back.

“It’s very obvious you are pushing yourself on Alderic, ma’am. So much that you’re even taking nonsense from his daughter.”

I laughed again, soft and sharp.

“And as for your son Luca… maybe let the grown man make his own choices? Unless, of course, his mother thinks like a b***h—”

Before the last word left my mouth, her hand snapped across my face.

The slap rang through the bathroom like a gunshot. My head whipped to the side. Heat exploded across my cheek. My ears rang. For a moment, I wasn’t in the bathroom—I was back in that basement, shadows swallowing the walls, fear chewing its way up my spine.

But no.

No.

Not again. Not now.

I forced myself back to the present.

I forced myself to smile.

My cheek throbbed violently, but I turned my head back, slow and taunting, until my eyes locked with hers again. Those bright blue orbs blazed, hatred swirling so openly in them that it almost felt like heat brushing my skin. Disgust dripped off her gaze. It should have made me shrink. It should have made me tremble.

But I didn’t flinch.

I had been looked at like that my entire life. Her disgust was familiar, almost comforting in a twisted way.

I smirked.

“Do not resent me because I look so much like you, Magdalene. Like you said, garbage will always smell, no matter how hard you hide it. Don’t be surprised when Alderic stops looking at you with love. Because you will always reek.”

Her gasp exploded out of her chest so loudly it echoed against the bathroom tiles. Maybe no one had ever spoken to her the way I just did. Maybe no one dared. But I didn’t care. She poked a bear she didn’t know was starving, and now she had to feel its teeth.

I didn’t wait for her comeback, the one I knew would cut deep, the one her pride would force her to spit out. I brushed past her, pushing through the doorway and stepping into the hallway.

The door clicked shut behind me.

Instantly, the adrenaline that had been holding me up crashed. I sagged against the door, my breath stuttering out in short, sharp bursts. My heart pounded so rapidly it made my ribs hurt. The pulse in my temples throbbed like a hammer, like warning bells I couldn’t silence.

I was close. Too close. One more trigger and I would fall right into a panic attack. It was pathetic. I could fight a woman with words but couldn’t fight the memories chewing at my brain.

I could never just exchange words with someone who hurt me and walk away whole. I could never be normal.

“Sera.”

Isabel’s voice reached me faintly, like from under water. But it was enough to pull me upward, barely.

She rushed to me, stopping right in front of me, worry pulling her eyebrows tight.

“I was looking for you.”

I forced a tight-lipped smile, peeled myself off the door, and met her halfway.

“Sorry that took long. I realized I had more pressing issues to attend to in the bathroom.”

She eyed me suspiciously. “Is it the food?”

I shook my head quickly. “I don’t think so. Must’ve been something we ate before coming here.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she nodded anyway, releasing a long breath. We linked arms and walked together toward the dining room, though I could feel the heaviness in her steps. She didn’t want to go back either—not with Magdalene and her sons still sitting there like vultures on polished gold.

“How’s your dad? Is he okay?”

She shrugged. “The cut wasn’t deep, and he insists he’s fine.”

I nodded slowly, even though the image of the blood, the broken glass, and the way Alderic stared at me still clung to my head like a shadow.

“I find it weird though,” she added.

I frowned. “Find what weird?”

She stopped walking. I had to stop with her. She looked right at me, her eyes sharp, searching.

“My father hates unruliness during dinner,” she said quietly. “He’s always been prim and proper. He almost never speaks unless he has to. He hardly ever drinks wine either.”

A small shiver crawled down my spine. “What are you saying, Bee?”

“I’m saying my father would never throw a glass down the table. Never. Not to the point of hurting himself, Sera.” She shook her head slowly. “That has never happened before.”

My breath snagged. My mind spun uselessly, reaching for something, anything, that made sense. I swallowed the fog rising in my throat.

“There’s always a first time, Bee,” I whispered. “Maybe he was trying to signal something to his fiancée.”

Isabel’s face twisted instantly—a mix of disgust and confusion.

“What could he possibly be signaling to that b***h that I shouldn’t know?”

Her voice cracked slightly. Her cheeks flushed red, and her eyes shimmered with the early glint of tears. I reached out, gently squeezing her arm where it linked with mine.

“Is there a particular reason you do not like her, Bee?” I asked quietly. “She… she doesn’t seem harmful.”

What are you saying, Seraphina.

You were just with her.

She is as harmful as a viper with freshly sharpened fangs.

“That is just her pretending, Sera.” Isabel’s voice hardened. “It’s obvious she’s a gold digger, hiding behind her fake airs and forced elegance.”

I pressed my lips together.

If Magdalene’s background was easy to pick apart, what would people think of mine? What would Isabel think if she knew what I really was behind the tank top and jacket?

“Anyway,” Isabel continued, sniffing once before forcing a smile, “we’re still on operation end this charade of a marriage, right?”

She looked at me with hope so raw I felt it lodge in my chest. I nodded, hiding my lips under my teeth.

This was beyond me now.

But I had already stepped into the fire.

And I doubted I could crawl out without burning.