My Forbidden Step-Uncle

THE AFFAIR VII: The Internship

|CIRCE|

The delicate chime of glass met at the center. The sound of it was like the tolling of a bell, signaling the beginning of my own personal hell.

Even the crisp, expensive bubbles of my champagne taste like poison on my tongue.

Mom looked at me, gushing, with her eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

“I’m so glad we’re finally doing this.” She shifted her gaze to Dax and Delson. “It feels like our family is finally complete.”

Dax leaned back in the plush leather of the booth. His perfectly relaxed composure unnerved me, but I have to maintain my facade that I wasn’t affected in the very least.

“It’s been too long, Delson. It’s good to be home.” His voice lingered a moment, then his gaze flickered to me. “And to be meeting the rest of the family. It gives me all the more reason to stay.”

The first twenty minutes were a masterclass in psychological torture on my end. Delson and my mother carried the rest of the conversation. The way I could feel the thickness of their happiness lodging on my throat and blanketing the silent war being waged across the table.

They casually asked me about my classes, about Elvena, and about my plans for the upcoming holiday break before my internship begins. Each question was like a landmine I had to carefully navigate.

My answers were short, polite, and as vague as possible. I focused more on my food, finding the truffles on my salad suddenly interesting, and on the intricate pattern of the silverware. I have to direct my attention to anything other than the man sitting opposite of me.

He rarely speaks, only when the topic relates to him or to their business. However, his cold blue eyes fixed on me whenever Mom and Delson were immersed in their own bubble.

I could feel him peeling through the layers of my pretenses, missing nothing, not even the slightest tremor of my hand as I lifted my water glass, nor the way I flinched when the waiter appeared at my elbow refilling my champagne.

“Circe is in her final year, you know,” Delson said proudly, placing his hand over my mother’s. “Financial Management. Top of her class.”

Dax raised a single brow, finally leaning forward, placing his elbows on the table casually. For everyone, the gesture seemed nonchalant, but for me, it felt like a predator closing in on its prey.

“Financial Management? Impressive,” he purred. “A precise discipline. All about leverage. Using minimal capital to control a much larger asset.”

His gaze held mine, stripping the terms of their academic meaning. “It requires knowing exactly what you want… and what you’re willing to risk to acquire it.”

He paused, letting the silence thicken.

“Tell me, do you prefer aggressive strategies? High risk, high reward?” His voice dropped, intimate and dangerous. “Or are you more… conservative? Someone who values stable, guaranteed returns… and understands the non-negotiable importance of compliance?”

Every word was a double entendre, a threat wrapped in theory. My skin heated under the weight of it.

The blood rushed in my ears. He was talking about the motel. About the way I had submitted to his commands.

“I believe in calculated risks,” I managed to say, my voice tight. “And in fully understanding an asset’s… true liability.”

A slow, approving smile touched his lips. He’d heard my defiance.

“A wise position. You strike me as someone who learns very quickly.” he murmured, as if we were the only two in the room.

“Just remember, even the most solid portfolios can be vulnerable to a hostile takeover and the most critical lesson is understanding illiquidity. Being locked into a position with no clear exit strategy is a precarious state for any investor.”

He let the concept hang, a perfect metaphor for our secret and took a slow sip of wine, his eyes never leaving mine, and the unspoken terms of our secret transaction hung in the air between us, more binding than any contract.

“She’s always been a smart girl,” my mother butt in, beaming. “Though she spends far too much time with her head in a book. I keep telling her she needs to get out more, enjoy the city’s nightlife.”

Dax’s smile widened.

“An excellent suggestion, Martha. The city has so much to offer. Though one has to be careful. You never know who you might run into.”

He looked directly at me, a silent, menacing dare.

I felt a sudden, shocking pressure against my leg. I flinched violently, my knee jerking back to hit the underside of the table with a dull thud. Delson and my mother stopped talking, looking at me with concern.

“Darling, are you alright?” my mother asked.

“I’m fine,” I gasped, my cheeks burning with humiliation. “Sorry, I just… dropped my napkin.”

I pretended to retrieve it, my heart hammering against my ribs. It had been his foot. When I sat back up, he was looking at me, his expression impassive, but his eyes were alight with dark, cruel amusement. He was testing me. Pushing me. Seeing how much I could take.

“As I was saying,” Delson said, picking up the thread of a previous conversation, “Martha and I have been talking, and we’ve made a decision. We’re moving up the wedding.”

“Oh, Delson, I thought we were going to tell later!” my mother said, though she was clearly thrilled.

“I can’t wait,” he said, his eyes full of love for her. “We’re thinking next month. A simple, elegant ceremony.”

Next month. The timeline slammed into me, stealing my breath. This nightmare wasn’t a distant future, it was imminent.

“But that’s not all,” Delson continued, his excitement growing. “I’ve bought the house. The old Blackwood estate, just outside the city. There’s more than enough room for all of us, for when you come to visit, Dax. And for you too, Circe. Your own wing of the house, if you like.”

A gilded cage. He was offering me a gilded cage.

“And,” he said, delivering what he clearly thought was his masterstroke, “I’ve been moving some of our family investments into a new portfolio. The firm handling it is one of the best in the country. In fact, Dax is a senior partner there.”

My head snapped toward Dax. He met my gaze with a cool, unreadable expression.

“I was thinking,” Delson said, his voice beaming with paternal pride, “it would be the perfect opportunity for you, Circe. A paid internship for your final semester. You’d get incredible experience, and you’d be working with family. Dax can take you under his wing, show you the ropes.”

The room began to spin. This couldn’t be happening. It was the ultimate checkmate. He was trapping me not just in my personal life, but in my professional one as well. I would be his niece. And now I would be his intern. Under his direct authority. Under his control.

“What a brilliant idea, darling!” my mother exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Circe, isn’t that wonderful? A job with your uncle!”

They all looked at me, their faces expectant, waiting for me to express my gratitude for this incredible, life-shattering opportunity. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My entire future was being rewritten before my eyes, turning into a horror story I couldn’t escape.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Delson’s smile began to falter, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

Dax broke the silence. He leaned forward slightly, his voice soft, yet it carried the undeniable weight of command. It was the same voice he’d used in the motel, a voice that bypassed reason and went straight to the most primal, terrified part of my brain.

“What do you say, Circe?” he asked, his lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. “Are you ready to come and work for me?”