Chapter 10:The Stranger in the Kitchen
1292 Words
The ride home was quiet. Too quiet.
Angel hummed softly beside her as the car rolled through the glowing streets, but Victoria barely heard a word. Her mind was somewhere else—stuck on the unanswered calls, the empty house that morning, and the strange feeling that something wasn’t right.
When they finally pulled into her driveway, the night had deepened. The house looked peaceful under the pale glow of the streetlights, but that peace felt hollow.
“Home sweet home,” Angel said with a small smile.
Victoria forced one back. “Thanks for the ride, Angel. You didn’t have to.”
Angel shrugged. “Girl, please. You’d do the same for me.”
They hugged, holding onto each other for a few seconds longer than usual.
“Text me when you talk to your dad, okay?” Angel said softly.
“I will,” Victoria promised.
Then Angel drove off, the car’s red taillights fading into the distance, leaving Victoria standing in the still night.
She turned to face the house.
It was silent.
Not the peaceful kind of silence—but the heavy, suffocating kind that made your heartbeat sound too loud.
A frown creased her brow. “Dad?” she called as she stepped inside.
No answer.
The faint scent of cologne and old books lingered in the air, but there was no sign of life. The house, usually warm and welcoming, suddenly felt strange—like it was holding its breath.
She dropped her purse on the couch and pulled out her phone. Still no messages. Still no missed calls.
“Where could you be?” she whispered, pacing.
Trying to distract herself, she went into the kitchen, poured a glass of juice, and reheated the leftovers her father had made the night before. The food sat heavily on her tongue. Every few bites, she reached for her phone again—calling, waiting, hoping. But every call ended the same way:
The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable…
Her chest tightened.
Maybe he went to visit someone. Maybe his phone died. Maybe—
Her thoughts turned darker. What if something happened? What if someone—
She cut herself off, shaking her head. “No. Stop it, Victoria. Don’t do this to yourself.”
But the longer she sat there, the louder the silence grew.
An hour passed.
Nothing.
Finally, she pushed back her chair and stood. “A bath,” she muttered. “You need to calm down.”
She climbed the stairs, every step echoing in the empty house. In her room, she stripped down and stepped into the shower. The warm water ran over her skin, but it didn’t wash away the fear pressing against her ribs.
Tears slid down her face before she even realized she was crying.
She thought of her mother—the way she’d smiled even through pain, the way her voice had been soft but strong. Losing her had been a wound that never fully healed. And now… her father was missing, too?
“No,” she whispered through the sobs. “Not again. Please, not again.”
She stayed under the water until her body went numb.
Then—
A sound.
It was faint, but clear.
Clink. Clink.
Like a spoon against a plate.
Coming from the kitchen.
Victoria froze.
Her breath caught in her throat. She turned off the water, listening.
Another sound.
Footsteps. Slow. Confident.
Her heart pounded. “Dad?” she called, her voice trembling.
No reply.
Every terrible thought she’d tried to bury came rushing back. What if someone broke in? What if they took him—and now they’re back for me?
Panicking, she grabbed the nearest thing she could find—her shoe. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it made her feel less helpless. Wrapping herself quickly in a towel, she tiptoed out of her room.
The hallway was dim, shadows pooling in every corner. The only sound was her heartbeat thudding in her ears.
Step by step, she crept toward the kitchen.
And then she saw him.
A tall figure stood by the counter, his back to her. Broad shoulders. Dark hair that glinted under the kitchen light. He was casually dishing food into a bowl—like he owned the place.
For a second, Victoria couldn’t move. The fear tangled with something else—something strange and electric. Because the stranger wasn’t just anyone.
He was beautiful.
His body looked like it had been carved by sunlight and shadow, his movements easy and unhurried. When he turned, his eyes met hers—and the world seemed to pause.
“Hey,” he said simply, his voice deep and smooth, carrying that kind of calm confidence that made her heart skip.
Victoria blinked, stunned. “Who—who are you?” she stammered, gripping the shoe tighter. “And what are you doing in my house?”
The man raised an eyebrow, half amused. “You don’t recognize me?” He took a step closer, and the scent of clean soap and cologne hit her. “I thought your dad told you about me.”
Her lips parted. “What?” she whispered.
He smiled faintly. “David,” he said. “Regina’s son.”
The words hit her like thunder. David… her future stepbrother.
Her mind went blank—and then she realized she was still standing there, half-dripping, wrapped in a towel.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, spinning around. “You—don’t—look—just—stay there!” she blurted before dashing upstairs.
She slammed her bedroom door and pressed her back against it, her cheeks burning. “Great, Victoria,” she muttered, “you just met your future stepbrother half-naked. Perfect first impression.”
It took her five whole minutes to calm down enough to change into a simple dress. She stared at herself in the mirror—flushed, embarrassed, and more irritated than ever.
When she went back downstairs, he was sitting at the dining table like he owned it, scrolling through his phone with one hand and eating with the other.
She stopped at the doorway, crossing her arms. “Where’s my dad?” she asked, her tone sharp.
He barely looked up. “He went out with my mom.”
Victoria frowned. “And you’re here… why?”
He finally glanced at her, his lips curving into a half-smile that was equal parts charming and infuriating. “He said I could wait here. I didn’t know it would cause a scandal.”
Her jaw tightened. “You broke into my house.”
“Correction,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Your dad gave me the key.”
Victoria stared at him, her annoyance growing by the second. “You could’ve at least answered when I came in.”
“I was hungry,” he said simply, taking another bite. “Didn’t think it was a crime.”
The arrogance in his tone made her blood boil.
So this was David.
The boy everyone said was sweet, polite, and well-behaved.
Yeah, right.
“Nice to meet you, anyway,” he added, flashing a teasing grin before turning his attention back to his plate.
Victoria glared at him. “It wasn’t nice meeting you,” she muttered and turned away, heading for her room before she said something she’d regret.
But as she climbed the stairs, her heart was still racing—not just from anger… but from something else she didn’t want to name.
Because no matter how rude or arrogant he seemed…
Those eyes.
That smile.
That presence.
It was like her heartbeat had found a new rhythm—and it terrified her.
- Writer
