Claimed By My CEO Stepdad

ia

because tomorrow you are going to w

hat particular pride she only used when she spoke about him. I stood by the front door

om," I

even picture. Victoria never stopped talking about him. How successful he was. How respected. How generous. Every month, without fail, money arrived in her account. Enough to cover the rent, the bills, the little extras she had gone without for years. Enough for

open and stepped

orrow I would meet him. The stepfather. The stranger who paid for our lives while remaining a ghost. I had asked to see a picture once. Victoria had only laughed and said there would be time enough for in

didn't want to listen to her talk about him for another

ght moment to tell him face to face. I wanted to see his expression when I said it. I wanted the ordinary night, the quiet apartment, the w

ay, the kind with thin walls and a permanent smell of takeout and cologne. He had given me a key in the second month, after a night when I had shown u

e. Older, of course. Polished. The kind of man who wore suits that cost more than our rent. Victoria said he worked too much. She said he was rarely home. She said that was why the money came so easil

ept walking. The closer I got to Ethan's building, the more I told myself that seeing him would steady me. That his arms, his voice, the ordinary weight of his body next to mine

to darken. I didn't knock. I never knocked. The ke

through the open window in the living room. Then I heard it-something that didn't belong. A raw, broke

hort hallway witho

from the single lamp on the nightstand spil

e sounds coming out of him were nothing I had ever heard before-loud, shameless, almost sobbing with pleasure. He had never made those sounds with me. Not once in eleven months. No matter how I touc

of them

Ethan's spine. The way his thighs trembled. The low, satisfied sound Derek made when Ethan pushed

side my ches

ck of the slap was sharp in the small space. He jerked back with a curse, pulling free. Ethan's head snapped up. His eyes found mi

to his knees, and backhanded me across

ed sideways into the wall, the taste of blood already bright on my tongu

is pants, a small, cold smile on his mouth. Neither of them looked ashamed. Neither of them looked sorry. They stared at me like

o slap the guy, because they