Viola.

After finishing my shower, I stepped out and headed toward the dressing room to change into proper clothes. But then I stopped and thought, No-I'm not going to bother getting fully dressed right now. I'll just go downstairs wearing this bathrobe. He's expecting me for lunch anyway, so I'll show up in the bathrobe and see how he reacts.

The maid waiting outside the bathroom saw me heading for the stairs and immediately tried to stop me. She looked worried and said something like, "Miss, please, let me help you get dressed properly first." But I looked down at the floor, avoiding her eyes. It was tough on her-she seemed really uncomfortable and unsure what to do-but I said firmly, "It doesn't matter. I have to do this. There needs to be some consequences if I want to get what I want."

I ignored her and started walking down the stairs in just the bathrobe. The hem was short, barely reaching mid-thigh, and everyone in the hallway and on the landing stared at me. Suddenly, from the dining room below, I heard him yelling in a loud, commanding voice: "All the staff-eyes on the floor! Eyes on the floor right now!" I still had underwear on underneath, but coming down the stairs from above, the angle made it look revealing. Still, nothing was actually showing. I kept walking anyway, head held high, pretending I didn't notice the stares.

I reached the dining area where lunch was already set up on the long table. Fancy plates, silverware, and food that smelled expensive were arranged perfectly. He was sitting at the head of the table like always, and Mom was next to him. He looked up, saw me in the robe, and his face twisted in disbelief.

"Were you raised on the streets by thugs or what?" he asked, his tone sharp and mocking.

"Why?" I asked back coolly, still standing instead of sitting.

He leaned back in his chair. "Does a respectable girl come down to lunch in a bathrobe?"

"I'm not respectable," I shot back without hesitation. "If you don't like it, kick me out. If you don't like it, divorce Mom."

Mom spoke up quickly, her voice soft and nervous. "No, and I don't mind. Why would I? Even if you were completely naked, it'd be fine-you're still a kid."

He kept calling me a "kid" over and over, clearly trying to annoy me and make me feel small. "Fine," I said flatly, finally sitting down across from them.

At the table, Mom sat quietly, and he was in the big chair-like a king on a throne. He really owned the place; you could feel it in the air. He acted like royalty, like everything and everyone belonged to him.

Suddenly, he reached over and pulled Mom onto his lap right in front of me. I stared at them, shocked. "What are you doing?" I asked.

Mom's face turned bright red with embarrassment. "Not in front of the girl," she said quickly, trying to slide off.

He held her in place and laughed a little. "You say she's grown up-well, she needs to know you're my wife, and we're on our honeymoon. We can do anything, anytime. But I'm not doing anything with you right now-I just want to feed you."

Of course, I was fuming inside from all the anger and tension that had been building up. It was so provocative, so in-my-face. I couldn't stand it.

I buried my face in the food and just ate, even though some of it I didn't like at all. I was so annoyed and upset that I started complaining out loud. "This food is terrible!" I said, then threw the plate aside on purpose. The soup spilled across the floor in a messy splash. I knew I was being really rude to the staff and the chefs who had worked hard on it, but I had to do it. I needed to make him uncomfortable, to push back in any way I could.

He looked at the mess without blinking, then said coolly to the staff, "Replace it for her. Get her another plate right now." He turned back to me. "Is something bothering you?"

He was ice-cold, showing no emotions, no heart at all. He just drank his wine like nothing had happened. Of course, I'd done it on purpose-spilling from underneath the table, making a scene. What could I say? He still thought I was just a little girl he could control.

She was older than his mom, for goodness' sake.

I was hurting Mom with my words, even though I didn't mean to-it just came out in the heat of the moment. "How old are you, anyway?" I asked him. "You know Mom's about 40."

He replied coolly, not even fazed. "I'm 32. What do you want?"

"Yeah," I said, pushing harder. "What do you even like about her?"

When I saw Mom starting to cry-tears falling silently down her cheeks-I shut up immediately. Oh no, I didn't mean to hurt her like that. He must have some reason to marry someone older than him, but right then,n I didn't care to figure it out.

He hit the table hard with his big hands, making the plates rattle. "Enough!" he shouted. "You're hurting your mom, not me."

I found myself quiet for once. I got up from the chair. "I'm done eating," I said flatly. "I'm going to my room to rest before the party." But as I passed by them on my way out, I saw his hand already playing with her under the table, squeezinaske he owned her. Under my breath, I muttered, "This shameless man-does he really want to be intimate with her? Even on the dining table?"

As I walked away slowly, trying to look calm, I glanced back one last time. He cleared everything off the table with one sweep of his arm-plates, glasses, food crashing to the floor. Then he laid Mom down right on the table like it was a bed. He sat between her legs, pushed her skirt up, and started touching her intimately from underneath. She was enjoying it so much, moaning softly, her hands in his hair.

I found myself running up the stairs as fast as I could, heart pounding, face burning.

Was he really being intimate with her like that? How shameless! How could they do this with people around? I felt sick, angry, and embarrassed-all at once. I just wanted to get to my room and lock the door behind me.

Viola

I went up to my room and sat on the bed for a little while, trying to calm down after everything downstairs. I grabbed my phone and called a couple of my friends, then sent them some quick texts to check in.

"You'll see the surprise tonight," I messaged one of them with a winking emoji. I had a big crush on one of my classmates-he had beautiful hair and an amazing build. All the girls at school chased after him. Honestly, I really wanted him tonight. I wanted to feel something exciting, something that was just for me.

The dress Mom's husband had brought with the outfit? It was perfect. Definitely, the guys at the party would be all over me tonight.

I kept checking the clock every few minutes, waiting impatiently so I could get up, start getting dressed, do my makeup, and style my hair. I wanted everything to look perfect. And sure enough, as soon as it hit 6:00, the maids knocked gently on my door. "We're ready to help you get dressed and prepared for the party," one of them said politely. "It's in an hour-that's Mr. Mark's orders."

"Fine," I said, trying to sound casual even though I was buzzing with excitement. What did that mean exactly? I wouldn't go down to see the party guests, cause a little chaos, embarrass him in front of everyone, make him look bad, and then head to my own party, have fun, lose my first time, and hook up with someone new.

Dad, I'd win the bet-everything. And honestly, the makeup, hair, everything-they were pros. They worked quickly and made me look incredible.

I was impressed, even with my own look after I got dressed. Then I put on the dress and shoes. It was about 7:10. They said, "Now you're ready. Mr. Mark has arrived-you need to go down now."

"Whatever," I said, and headed downstairs. The atmosphere was straight out of a celebrity event-for a billionaire, no doubt. He really went all out.

The artists I saw? I'd only seen them on TV before, but they were even better-looking in person. I couldn't have imagined the level he brought. I didn't get it-this party was supposedly for the wedding and moving to the new palace, or Mom's move-in.

The new palace? Clearly, this place had been his for a long time. And everyone was all over him, showing him way too much respect. I even saw a couple of ministers bowing to him slightly.

He must be super important, but not to the point of them kissing his feet or anything-just extra respect on top of the norm.

Of course, I didn't care. I went down and mingled in the hall. As soon as I spotted the bar, I started grabbing glass after glass of whatever looked interesting.

Mom came over close to me and whispered, "How can you be drinking?" Her voice was super low-she was worried someone would notice. At 18, I could lose my first time any time, and she was shocked.

"What?" I said. "Don't act as if you care. You've never cared about me. All you care about is your life, living it up, getting married, falling in love, hooking up. Leave me alone-don't embarrass me tonight."

Mom backed off. She went to stand with her guests for a bit. Then Mom's husband came up to me and snatched the glass from my hand, handing it to a waiter. "What the heck do you think you're doing?"

He leaned in low, close to my face. He was tall-about 30 cm taller than me, by the way. "What you're doing is wrong. You think you can embarrass me? I could punish you right here in front of all these people, and no one would say a word."

"You? Punish me?" I shot back. "Who do you think you are? My dad? My own husband?"

He said sarcastically, "If I were your husband, I wouldn't let you out of your room at all."

I gulped nervously.

His words made my heart race-not interest or attraction, but straight-up fear.

I started looking at him differently, staring into his eyes. Was this the guy I'd dreamed about my whole life? How could Mom's husband be the type of dominant, strong character who protects me but controls me at the same time?

I'd always wanted a controlling guy, but I snapped out of it. "He married Mom, idiot. Get him to kick me out, leave us both."

Anyway, I backed away from him, pretending his words annoyed me. "I need to go to the bathroom."

I headed upstairs. After I got there, of course, I checked the time on my phone. My friends were waiting-I'd sent them the palace location. Great.

Without anyone seeing me, I'd slip out the back gate, head to the party, hit the bar, dance, flirt with someone, and finally feel like a real woman.

Viola.

Of course, there were a ton of guards and everything, but the palace had multiple gates, and it was super crowded with guests, each one arriving with their own security and several cars.

Anyway, I managed to slip out. One of my friends was waiting for me in his Ferrari-the location was with him.

I already sent him.

Some of the guys from the soccer team saw me. They all went, "Whoa, wow-what's this beauty?"

I hopped in the car.

Of course, I started acting all flirty, like a real girly-girl, forgetting I'd always been beautiful, honestly.

They remarked, drooling, "First time seeing you like this. You might've been pretty, but you never showed it off. You always wore jeans, a plain t-shirt, and sneakers, so your looks weren't obvious."

I didn't tell them this was Mom's husband's palace because they were blown away, especially the guy I had a crush on -he was impressed hugely.

He said to me, "Do you know whose family this palace belongs to? I didn't know you were from this family!"

He knew the family, but I didn't personally-because I had no idea until now just how massive it was.

I laughed and said, "What? Come on, let's go to the party. I'd had two glasses inside already, but I wanted to keep drinking, dancing, and having fun."

So I freshened up a bit; clearly, the alcohol was starting to hit my brain. My personality felt different, more fun. As soon as we got to the hotel, we headed to the bar inside-they'd reserved the whole thing, or most of it. Right, not the entire bar.

We walked into the hotel, and everyone stared at me, especially the guys and the men.

We went into the bar, and no one had seen me like this before-not even the girls. They were straight-up jealous.

"What? We didn't know you were this rich." Of course, everyone there was from big, super-wealthy families, but it was obvious my level, thanks to Mom's husband, was way above theirs.

"The necklace you're wearing? That diamond was in a super famous auction, and I know who bought it. How'd it end up with you?" They mentioned in awe.

I lied, " My friend brought it to me, the one who wants to propose. He'd given me watches."

They exchanged looks, like they knew exactly who Mom's husband was.

I continued saying, "It's just a guy who's into me, but I'm not interested."

Actually, this made the guy I like get closer to me. Jack suddenly got right up next to me, clinked glasses, and started dancing with me.

After a bit, his hand began wandering my waist, and he held me tight closer to his chest. Making his first move.

Then I saw Mom calling my phone. I didn't answer. After about half an hour, I was pretty wasted. We shook the phone on speaker and picked up for Mom. Mom said, "You're with your friends?"

He was drunk too. He laughed and said to her, "Don't worry aunt, I'm with her. She's staying with me tonight. "

And she... I didn't know the word "stay" with me tonight could cause such a huge problem.

After 10 minutes, the whole bar shut down. Tons of people were being forced out, getting kicked to the curb. Guards-like the ones from our palace, stormed in and surrounded me.

I found Mom's husband, Mark, right in front of me. He said, "Did I let you leave the palace? For the house party? Did I let you hook up with someone?"

Before I could even speak, he was punching the guy, several blows to the face. His staff and guards dragged the trash out. "I don't want to see him again, and I don't want him anywhere near college," he yelled, commanding.

Drunk as I was, I said to him, "What are you saying? What even brought you here in the first place?" Of course, I wasn't processing any of it.

He said, "What brought me here?" Suddenly, he scooped me up, carried me out a ways, and splashed a glass of water in my face to wake me up.

I jolted awake, shivering, and said, "What are you doing?"

He said, "What am I doing? Because when I say something, you obey." Then he grabbed my arm roughly.

Suddenly, he lifted me between his strong arms. I felt it intensely-I was enjoying it way too much. And I found myself putting my hand on his cheek, walking slowly like I was in a dream. Suddenly, I realized I was kissing his cheek.