Chapter 11: The Stranger in My Home
1148 Words
Victoria barely slept that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him—David. The stranger in her kitchen. The man she’d met half-naked, wrapped only in a towel.
Her father’s cologne still lingered faintly in the air, but he never came home. She must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing she knew, soft light was creeping through her curtains.
And anger came flooding back.
She sat up abruptly, rubbing her temples. Her phone lay silent beside her—no missed calls, no texts. Of course.
With a sharp exhale, she pushed out of bed. “Perfect,” she muttered under her breath. “Disappear for hours, then let a stranger walk into my house. Great job, Dad.”
The shower did little to wash away her irritation. Even the water felt too loud, too hot—like it was trying to boil her mood away and failing miserably.
When she finally came downstairs, dressed neatly for work, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air.
Her father was at the dining table, newspaper in hand, looking relaxed—as if nothing had happened.
“Good morning, honey,” he said cheerfully without even looking up.
Victoria froze mid-step. Honey? After leaving her worried sick all night?
She stared at him, her lips pressed in a hard line, and walked right past without saying a word.
Her father glanced up, frowning slightly. “Victoria?”
But she was already halfway to the kitchen.
Inside, she found Regina standing by the stove, humming softly as she flipped pancakes. Her movements were graceful, practiced—like she’d done this a thousand times before.
The smell might have been comforting on another day. But right now, it just made Victoria’s chest tighten.
Regina turned with a warm smile. “Good morning, sweetheart. Would you like some—”
Victoria didn’t wait for her to finish. She spun on her heel and walked right out of the kitchen.
She grabbed her bag from the chair by the dining table. “I’m going to work,” she said flatly.
Her father looked up again. “Wait—have you met your stepbrother yet?”
The words made her stop for a heartbeat—but she didn’t turn around. Instead, she yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind her.
The sound echoed down the quiet street.
The drive to work did nothing to cool her temper. Even the usual playlist couldn’t drown out her thoughts.
By the time she reached the office, her face was set in a stormy frown.
Everyone noticed.
Her colleagues, usually chatty and playful, kept their distance. Even the sound of her heels against the marble floor seemed sharper than usual.
She threw her bag on the desk, opened her laptop, and tried to focus.
“Coffee?”
Angel’s gentle voice broke through her thoughts. Victoria looked up to see her best friend standing there, a steaming cup in hand.
“Thanks,” Victoria muttered, barely glancing up.
Angel placed the cup carefully on her table, watching her closely. “Okay, spill. What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” Victoria said quickly, eyes fixed on the screen.
Angel folded her arms. “If you were fine, the entire office wouldn’t be walking on eggshells right now. You look like you’re ready to fire someone.”
Victoria sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Now I’m the office gossip, huh?”
Angel shook her head. “No one’s gossiping. We’re just worried.”
Victoria’s fingers tightened around her coffee cup. “Yesterday, my dad was missing. I was panicking, Angel. And guess what? He wasn’t missing at all. He went to pick them up.”
Angel frowned. “Them?”
“David and Regina,” she said bitterly. “The future family I didn’t ask for.”
Angel tilted her head, confused. “Wait, but… I thought you wanted to meet them?”
“I did!” Victoria snapped. “But not like this. He could’ve at least told me they were coming. Instead, I come home to find a strange guy in my kitchen—eating my father’s food like he owns the place!”
Angel blinked, trying not to laugh. “Wait, so… you’re mad because he was eating?”
Victoria glared at her. “That’s not the point, Angel.”
Angel lifted her hands defensively. “Okay, okay. Not the point.”
Victoria leaned forward, her voice rising slightly. “And this morning? Regina was already in the kitchen cooking breakfast like she had lived there her whole life. My mom’s kitchen, Angel. My mom’s.”
Angel’s tone softened. “Vic… she’s going to be your stepmom. Maybe she was just trying to help.”
Victoria looked away, swallowing hard. “You don’t get it. That kitchen was my mother’s world. Every recipe, every little jar on that counter—she put it there. And now Regina is standing there like she’s taken over everything. My dad promised she wouldn’t replace Mom. But it’s already happening.”
Angel was quiet for a moment, watching the frustration written all over her friend’s face.
Finally, she asked gently, “So… you’re angry because she cooked breakfast?”
Victoria shot her a look so sharp that Angel immediately regretted the question.
“Forget it,” Victoria said, waving her hand dismissively. “Even if I explain ten thousand times, you still won’t understand.”
Angel sighed, deciding not to push further. She picked up her coffee and took a sip, glancing at Victoria’s stubborn frown.
After a pause, she tried again, her voice lighter. “So… this David guy.”
Victoria groaned. “Don’t start.”
“I’m just saying,” Angel teased. “Is he at least… You know, cute?”
Victoria looked up slowly, her glare deadly. “Dry joke. Not today.”
Angel chuckled softly, holding up her hands. “Fine, fine. I’ll back off.”
She started toward the door, pausing only to glance back once more. “But Vic? Maybe—just maybe—you’re not as mad at David as you think.”
Victoria didn’t respond. She just opened her laptop again, pretending to type, pretending her heart wasn’t pounding at the sound of his name.
When Angel left, the office felt quieter than before.
Victoria stared at her reflection in the dark screen of her laptop. Her eyes looked tired, angry… and something else.
Confused.
Because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t erase the image of David from her mind—those calm, teasing eyes, that faint smirk that drove her crazy.
She hated how her pulse quickened when she remembered his voice.
She hated how easily he’d unsettled her.
And most of all, she hated that deep down, she already knew—
This wasn’t just anger.
It was something far more dangerous.
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