The plan was simple: move in with my mom, play the dutiful daughter, and count down the days until I could escape back to my real life. I didn’t expect my first night out to end in the parking lot being fucked by a silver fox who looked at me like I was his favorite sin.

I thought it was a one-night mistake. A filthy, beautiful secret I’d take to my grave. Until the next morning, when I met my mom’s new husband... and he was him.

Now, every family breakfast is a slow-motion panic attack. Every glance across the dinner table is a reminder of his hands on my skin. I can’t tell my mom the truth, but the deeper I sink into the Schmidt estate, the darker the truth becomes. Because in this house, there are no rules. There is no "mine" or "yours." There is only ours.

I thought I was falling for a man. I didn’t realize I was being claimed by a bloodline. It turns out I don’t have a husband... I have masters. And they aren't finished sharing.

Too fucking bad, Mother!

Eden

The cab rolled to a stop at the end of the gated driveway, and I stared up at the monstrosity in front of me, all marble, glass, and cold, modern grandeur. Home sweet home.

Before I could even step out fully, my mother, Lillian, pulled me into a suffocating hug. Her perfume, something heavy and floral, clung to my skin. "Welcome home, baby," she cooed, her manicured fingers brushing my hair back like I was still a kid.

The mansion screamed money. High ceilings, floors so polished I could see my reflection, and abstract art that probably cost more than my entire college fund. I dropped my bag onto the white leather sofa, already feeling out of place.

"So," I said, glancing around, "where's your new husband?"

She adjusted a vase that was already perfectly centered on the table. "Daniel’s at work, darling. But he’s very excited to meet you." The way she lingered on "very" made my skin prickle.

She gestured for me to follow. "Come, let me show you around."

We moved through the mansion. The kitchen was vast enough for a restaurant staff, with a dining room set for twenty and a sunroom drowning in orchids. She introduced me to the cook, an older woman with a no-nonsense grip; the gardener, who barely looked up from his shears; and the two drivers idling near the garage.

"Daniel decided to drive himself today," Lillian said with a flick of her wrist.

As we turned down a hallway lined with minimalist portraits, one frame caught my eye, a younger man, dark-haired, with eyes as sharp as a blade. He looked older than me and also looked like a playboy.

"Who’s this?" I asked.

Mom barely glanced at it. "Daniel’s son. He’s hardly home, always working." Her tone was dismissive, her fingers already tugging me toward the grand staircase.

My room was at the end of the west wing, all silk sheets and a balcony overlooking the pool. "Settle in," she said, though my bag was still downstairs.

Once alone, I stripped off the day’s travel clothes and stepped into the shower, letting hot water sluice over my skin. I took my time, working scented oil into my curves, shaving where it mattered. When I stepped out, steam curling around me, I caught my reflection in the fogged mirror, flushed, damp, and ready for something reckless.

I dressed carefully, in a tight black dress that clung to every dip and swell and heels that made my legs look endless. Then the final touch, a thin leather choker, with the words "Yes Daddy" stamped in silver across the front. A smirk tugged at my lips as I fastened it.

I walked out of my room and headed downstairs; before I could even see her, my mom spoke.

"Oh, I thought you might have dozed off; dinner is ready."

I smiled at her; my mom and I aren't close, but she tries her best to make me happy. After my father ran away when she was pregnant, she has been trying, even though most of my life I've been with different foster parents. We have been in touch; I've always known she was my mom, and she would send me money when she got a chance.

Then last month she told me she got married to this rich man who is so excited to meet me and wants us to stay as a family. I am happy for her. At least I am no longer with any foster parents; I've been staying on my own for some time now. And besides, I'm done with college and ready to look for new job instead of restaurants jobs.

Dinner was obscenely good, seared scallops, truffle risotto, and wine that cost more than my last paycheck. Lillian watched me eat with a satisfied smile, her fingers drumming against her glass. "Hungry, darling?"

"Starving," I murmured, sucking butter from my thumb.

We ate in silence, well, she has been married to her husband, whom I haven't met for 4 months now. I finished my meal and I knew I couldn't be in this house, I need to go out.

"I'm gonna get some air."

Lillian didn't argue, just tossed me the keys to her BMW like it was nothing. "Don’t stay out too late. make friends!" I smiled and left.

I drove with the windows down, the city lights fading behind me as I followed the whispered rumors of The Velvet Room, a club where the elite didn’t just play; they hunted. The line outside stretched down the block, all hopeful faces and desperate smiles. I didn’t wait. A flick of my gaze at the bouncer, a slow roll of my hips as I walked past the rope, and just like that, I was in.

The bass throbbed through me, deep enough to feel it in my ribs. The air smelled like expensive whiskey and darker things, the kind of sin that came with power. Men in tailored suits watched from the shadows. Time to see just how much trouble I could find.

The club pulsed around me, bodies moving in a rhythm that felt more like a challenge than an invitation. I slid onto a stool at the bar, ordered something strong, and let my eyes wander.

A hand settled on the small of my back, warm and possessive. "You don’t look like you belong here."

I turned, meeting the gaze of a man whose suit probably cost more than my car. Dark hair, sharp jaw, eyes that promised things I wasn’t sure I wanted. Yet.

"Funny," I said, sipping my drink, "I was just thinking the same about you."

His thumb stroked my spine, slowly. "Is that so?"

The music faded into a low hum as he leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "Let me show you what happens to girls who wander into places like this."

I shivered, but not from fear.

Lillian’s warning echoed in my head. "Don’t stay out too late."

Too fucking bad, Mother!

You taste good

Eden

I checked him out; he's strong. He has the body of a man who goes to the gym. He's tall, a very confident silver fox wrapped in a suit that cost more than my rent. His eyes locked onto mine and didn’t let go.

“Daniel,” he said, his voice like whiskey and sin as he slid into the space beside me. Close enough that I caught the heat rolling off him.

I let my lips curl. “Eden.”

He smirked, fingers tracing the stem of my glass. “Fitting.” His thumb brushed my knuckle. “You taste as sweet as that sounds?”

I leaned in, close enough for my breath to tease his jaw. “Find out.”

His hand settled on my waist, possessive even through the fabric of my dress. The look he gave me wasn’t just hunger; it was a challenge. I answered by dragging him onto the dance floor.

The bass pulsed through me as I turned, pressing my back against his chest. His grip tightened, fingers digging in as I rolled my hips, slow at first, then harder when his cock jerked against my ass.

“Fuck,” he growled into my ear, teeth grazing the shell.

I glanced over my shoulder, holding his stare as I ground against him. His eyes were black with want, tracking every shift of my body. I didn’t need to look down to know how hard he was; I could feel it, thick and insistent against me.

His hand slid down my stomach, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of my panties. I arched into his touch, biting my lip when he found me drenched.

“Cheeky,” he murmured, lips against my neck.

“You like it.”

His laugh was dark. “Yeah. I do.”

His fingers pressed deeper, and the crowd disappeared. Nothing existed but his hands, his mouth, and the way he looked at me like he’d ruin me if I asked.

And fuck, I might.

His fingers slid from my panties, glistening under the dim club lights. He locked eyes with me as he brought them to his lips, sucking slowly, his tongue curling around each digit, savoring me like I was already his. My breath hitched; just watching that filthy act tightened the coil in my stomach, my thighs trembling.

"Fuck, you taste good," he growled, voice rough enough to make my nipples perk.

A shiver tore through me, and I grabbed his wrist, dragging him toward the exit before I gave in and rode him right there against the bar. The night air hit my flushed skin as we spilled outside, but the heat between us didn’t fade. His hand found my hip, guiding me into the shadow of an alley, just to drag me against him. His cock strained against his slacks, thick, and God, I could tell he was a huge man, the outline so obscene my mouth watered.

"Look at you," I breathed, palming him through the fabric. He hissed, and his hips jerked into my touch as I squeezed. "All this for me?"

His fingers tangled in my hair, tilting my head back. "Every fucking inch." His mouth crashed onto mine, hot and demanding, tongue claiming me before I could even gasp. I moaned into the kiss, grinding against his thigh as his free hand slipped under my skirt again, fingers finding my clit, and stroked ruthlessly.

We broke apart only when footsteps neared, some couple passing and laughing drunkenly. Daniel didn’t stop touching me; he just shifted us deeper into the dark, his thumb circling my clit while his other hand cupped my breast, pinching my nipple through the thin fabric of my skirt.

"God, you’re soaked," he murmured, dragging his lips down my neck.

"Your fault." I rocked against his fingers, chasing the pressure.

He chuckled against my skin, but the sound turned ragged when I unzipped his slacks, finally wrapping my hand around him. His cock was heavy and hard as steel, veins throbbing under my touch. I stroked him slowly, relishing the way his breath stuttered.

"Christ, Eden."

I silenced him with another kiss, my fingers tightening just the way I knew would make his hips buck. His groan vibrated against my lips, his own touch turning relentless between my legs. Every stroke, every flick of his fingers sent lightning through me, the ache building until my legs shook.

He pulled back, panting. "Not here."

I whimpered as his fingers left me, but he caught my wrist, dragging me down the street toward the parking garage. Every few steps, he’d spin me into another dark corner, his mouth devouring mine, his hands mapping my body like he couldn’t wait to tear me apart.

By the time we reached the dim stairwell, my dress was bunched around my waist, his belt was undone, and neither of us cared who might see.

"I can take you to my penthouse downtown," Daniel growled, his fingers tightening in my hair.

I answered with a slow grin and dropped to my knees before he finished the sentence. The concrete bit into my skin, but I barely felt it, not when the thick head of his cock brushed my lips, already leaking. His groan vibrated through me as I took him in, stretching my mouth around girth that made my jaw ache.

"Fuck, look at you," he hissed, his hips twitching when I couldn't swallow more than half of his cock. His fingers flexed against the stairwell railing, knuckles white. "Trying so hard to take me."

I flicked my tongue along his vein, savoring the way his abs clenched. When I glanced up, his gaze dropped to my choker. I could see he was reading the two words in script against my throat: "Yes, Daddy." A dark laugh escaped him.

"Cheeky fucking brat."

His hands hauled me up, spinning me against the nearest car. The cool metal met my bare stomach as he shoved my skirt higher while his fingers dug into my hips. I arched, offering myself, choking on a moan when his cock slid through my slick folds without entering.

"Tell me," he demanded, grinding against me, the head catching on my clit.

"Yes, Daddy," I gasped.

His grip turned bruising. One hard thrust and he was splitting me open, stretching me so wide my vision blurred. I whimpered, nails scraping paint as he bottomed out, pausing to let me adjust, but only for a second, and then he started thrusting.

Each snap of his hips punched the air from my lungs, the slap of skin echoing off the parking. I couldn't stop the sounds tearing from my throat, couldn't stop my body from clamping down around him as pleasure coiled tight.

"Christ!" His teeth sank into my shoulder, fucking me through the clench of my cunt. "Gonna milk me dry like this?"

I couldn't answer; the only thing I could do was moan his name as he hit that spot inside me again and again, my orgasm ripping through me without warning. My knees buckled; he held me up effortlessly, pistoning into my trembling body like he owned it.

"One more," he growled, his fingers circling my clit. "Come on my cock like a good girl."

The command snapped the last thread of control and I came with a scream, walls fluttering around him, and felt the moment he lost it, hot release flooding me as his hips stuttered, his groan raw against my skin.

He didn't pull out he just kept me pinned there, both of us shaking, until the aftershocks faded.

Well done Eden

Eden

The BMW's engine hummed low as I pulled through the mansion gates, Daniel’s release still sticky on my inner thighs. My cheeks burned remembering how roughly he’d taken me against that car, how his thick cock had stretched me until I saw stars. I shouldn’t crave an older man’s dominance, but fuck, the way he’d fisted my hair and growled “Mine” while spilling his seed inside me… My nipples tightened at the memory.

I went inside the house; the marble floors chilled my bare soles. I’d left my heels in the car along with my pride. Lilian’s new home felt judgmental, but I didn’t care. Not tonight. I went upstairs and found my room and went straight to the shower; blistering water pounded my skin as I scrubbed at his scent, his musk, his sweat, and the raw essence of him. It wouldn’t wash off. My core clenched, aching for the phantom fullness of his cock splitting me open again.

I collapsed into bed, sleep pulling me under. Dreams were filthy flashes: his calloused hands pinning my wrists, his gruff voice ordering, “Don’t fight it,” and the wet slap of our bodies colliding. I woke hours later with my fingers slick, shame and desire warring in my gut. One night. Just a mistake, and I woke up soaked? Fuck!

I knew I needed him again; my body knew that too.

First night in New York City, where I was supposed to spend time with my mother, I already fucked up; I just fucked a man in the fucking parking lot! How horny can I get? A man old enough to be my father! Well, Eden, well done! I didn’t even know the city yet; I didn’t know the streets or the names of the buildings or where the hell I was supposed to belong in all of this. But I knew the way his hands felt. I knew the sound he made when he came. And I knew the heat still stuck to my skin even though it had been hours.

Daniel is older and confident. A man who knew exactly how dangerous he was and somehow made me feel like it was my fault for not resisting.

It was supposed to be nothing. A one-night mistake in a city full of strangers. A warm body to erase the coldness of this weird, brittle new life. I didn’t even get his number. I didn’t even want one at the time. And now here I am, gripping the steering wheel of Lilian’s BMW like it might stop my brain from spinning off into space.

When I got to the mansion, the guards opened the gate without a word. They just nod, like this was normal, like I was normal. I drove in, headlights sweeping across the perfect landscaping, every inch manicured and soulless. The mansion loomed up like it wanted to judge me.

I parked the car and killed the engine. For a second, I just sat there in the dark.

What kind of girl does that? First night in a new city, and I sleep with some random older guy I met in a club. I don’t even like older men. I never have. They usually make my skin crawl.

But Daniel wasn’t like that. He didn’t feel old. He felt… sure. He didn’t act like someone trying to impress me. He didn’t ask stupid questions. He just looked at me like he’d already undressed me in his head and decided I was worth the trouble.

And I let him.

I let him.

God, I can still feel his cock stretching my walls!

I went straight to my room, eyes on the floor, body humming with a shame I couldn’t shake off. I closed the door behind me and stripped out of my clothes like they were covered in smoke and headed to the shower and put on some hot water. I wanted to scrub every second of tonight off of me, but it wouldn’t budge. His touch was still there. My legs still remembered how they shook.

I dried off, pulled on a t-shirt, and collapsed into bed. The room was too clean. The sheets were too soft.

The morning felt fake. I hadn’t dreamed, or if I had, it was just flashes of his mouth, his voice, his hands, and me, making noises I didn’t recognize.

“Sweetie, wake up. Breakfast is ready.”

Lilian’s voice floated through the door like we were in a sitcom. I groaned. My body didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to see her. I didn’t want to see anyone.

I eventually dragged myself up and into the shower again, like the first one hadn’t done the job.

This time, I showered slower. Quieter, just me standing under the water, letting the images flood back in like I’d opened the floodgates.

His hips. His groan. My name on his lips.

Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him?

I hated that I wanted more.

I dried off again, threw on jeans and a t-shirt, and padded downstairs like a zombie. Lilian was already at the table, sipping tea like she’d been born in a magazine spread.

“I hear you came back late last night,” she said, not even looking at me.

I shrugged. “Yeah. Lost track of time.”

Her eyes flicked up. They always did that when she was trying to read me like a report card. I didn’t give her anything to grade.

“Did you enjoy your first day in New York City?” she asked.

I didn’t answer. We weren’t close. We never had been. Lilian was more business partner than mother, too polished, too detached. I gave her a nod. That was all she was getting.

But then I asked the question. I don’t even know why I said it.

“Where’s your husband? Daniel?”

I watched her, and I saw it; just for a second, something flickered across her face.

“He left early for work,” she said.

Too smooth, too fast. So I nodded, pretending to believe her.

But I didn’t. Since I got here, I haven't met the man she married; that's why I asked.

The name Daniel makes my panties wet; I guess there is something mother-and-daughter love about that name. My mom is married to a Daniel, and I fucked a Daniel last night. The apple doesn't fall far from its tree.

Still, the mention of that name makes my skin prickle because my brain was already wired to that name, to last night, like an echo I couldn’t silence.

I sat down, but I didn’t taste anything. I just sat there, chewing nothing, trying not to let my mind wander back to that parking lot and to him. To the way he said goodbye like he hadn’t meant it.

Lilian went on with her tea like nothing had happened. After breakfast, I went to my room, half hoping Daniel would text me and half terrified that he actually would. I turned my phone screen on every fifteen minutes like a desperate idiot, even though there was no number to wait for. I didn’t even know how to find him. And that should have been the end of it. One night. One mistake.

I replayed everything in my head again, over and over. The way he looked at me when we met at the bar. He didn’t look shocked or awkward. He looked like a man who knew exactly what he was doing, and I liked it, maybe too much.

My skin itched with anxiety. I couldn’t sit still. I wandered around the mansion like a ghost, pretending I was somewhere else. Anywhere else.

By the time the sky started darkening again, I felt like I hadn’t moved at all.

I stood in front of the mirror in my bathroom, just staring. I didn’t look like someone who was spiraling. I looked fine. Maybe a little tired but normal.

Which was almost worse because nothing about this was normal. I splashed cold water on my face and sat on the edge of the tub, my heart pounding like something awful was waiting to happen.

I didn’t want it to be a one-time thing, and I hated that.

I had this feeling, this certainty, that I was going to see him again. Not because I believed in fate or signs or whatever Lilian’s therapist books would call it. Just because he felt unfinished and that scared me more than anything.

One hell of a ride

Eden

The next night, I found myself back at the club, my skin buzzing with restless energy. Neon lights pulsed as I slid onto a barstool, the same one I’d occupied before Daniel dragged me outside. My dress rode up my thighs, cool leather against my heated flesh. I ordered a vodka soda, then another, letting the alcohol numb the edges of my obsession.

He’s not coming, I told myself. It was a fluke. But my body refused to believe it; my nipples peeked under the thin fabric, hungry for his teeth. Across the room, broad shoulders hunched over a drink caught my eye.

Daniel? My pulse spiked as I squinted through the haze of smoke and sweat. The man’s profile was similar, strong jaw, silver-streaked hair, but when he turned, cold disappointment washed over me. Just a stranger. I slammed back my drink, welcoming the burn.

“Rough night?” The bartender leaned in, his gaze dipping to my cleavage.

“You have no idea.” I pushed my empty glass toward him. “Another. And… did a guy named Daniel come in tonight? Silver hair, sharp suit, looks like he owns the place.”

The bartender’s expression shuttered. “Honey, this club’s got rules. No info on clients. Keeps things… discreet.” He tapped the sign behind the register.

NO SOCIAL MEDIA. NO PHOTOS. NO EXCEPTIONS. Before pouring my refill.

I swallowed the truth: I fucked a married man; he has to be married or divorced. I don’t even know his last name. The vodka turned to acid in my stomach. Still, I lingered until closing, scanning every shadowed corner, every departing figure, nothing.

I picked up my bag and slid off the chair and left; the city’s chill bit through my dress as I stumbled toward Lilian's BMW. My phone buzzed in my clutch, Lilian’s name flashing on the screen.

"Where are you? Daniel is here, and he wants to meet you." I silenced it, my fingers trembling out of anger. She's telling me of meeting her husband when I am out here looking for Mr. Dickson.

I didn’t go home. I drove aimlessly, tires humming over wet asphalt as rain slicked the windows. Neon signs blurred into streaks of color, reflecting off the puddles like liquid oil. My head throbbed, vision swimming from too much vodka and too little sleep.

"Eden, where are you?" Lilian’s text nagged, but I couldn’t face her pristine world. Not yet.

Alleys branched off the main roads, dark and narrow, promising anonymity. I pulled into one, killing the headlights. My breathing echoed in the dim space.

He’s not coming, I thought again, bitter laughter dying in my throat. Fingers trailed down my stomach, slipping beneath my damp lace panties. I was already fucking wet for him.

The engine clicked as it cooled. I leaned back, eyes closed, and touched myself in slow circles that made my hips twitch. Fuck. I imagined Daniel’s hands instead, rough and demanding, shoving my thighs apart. My other hand yanked up my dress, cool air ghosting over my skin as I worked myself faster, biting my lip to stifle a whimper. The release, when it came, was sharp and empty. I slumped against the seat, chest heaving, the scent of my own arousal hanging heavy in the car.

I woke up to someone shaking me. I opened my eyes and saw Victoria. "Miss Eden, it's 10am. You should get up for breakfast."

I groan, burying my face deeper into the pillow. My head is pounding from last night's escapades. "Five more minutes, Victoria."

"I'm afraid Mrs. Schmidt instructed me to wake you, child. She seems to be in a foul mood this morning." Victoria steps back from the bed, clasping her hands together. "I'll leave you to get ready."

I sit up, rubbing my tired eyes. "Thanks, Victoria. I'll be down soon."

Who the fuck is Mrs. Schmidt?

My legs feel like jelly as I drag myself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water helps soothe my aching muscles, but it does little to prepare me for the confrontation I know is coming. Lilian has been dying to play the role of the strict mother, and last night's antics gave her the perfect opportunity. I dress quickly, dreading the lecture that awaits me in the dining room and whoever the fuck Mrs. Schmidt is.

When I arrive downstairs, Lilian is already seated at the table, sipping her coffee with a pinched expression. Her perfectly coiffed hair and designer dress are a stark contrast to my disheveled appearance.

"Nice of you to join us, Eden," she says coldly. "Or should I say, to finally wake up after your little escapade last night?"

I roll my eyes, helping myself to a plate of fruit. "It's not even noon yet, Lilian. And I'm an adult; I can go out if I want to."

"We have a reputation to uphold in this household," Lilian snaps. "Your new stepfather and I didn't work this hard to have you tarnish our image."

"Oh, please." I snort. "The only image you care about is the one you show to your rich friends. You don't give a damn about me or my new stepdad, whoever he is."

Lilian slams her coffee cup down, causing the delicate china to rattle. "How dare you speak to me that way? I am your mother, and you will show some respect!"

I lean forward, meeting her frosty glare with one of my own. "Respect is earned, Lilian, not given. And you haven't done a damn thing to earn mine."

Her hand flies up as if to strike me, but I stand my ground, refusing to flinch. She hesitates, her anger warring with her need to maintain composure. After a tense moment, she lowers her hand back to the table.

"You're just like your mother," she hisses. "Stubborn, defiant, and ungrateful."

"Which one? I've been adopted 7 times, not that you know that."

Lilian's eyes narrow. "Your adoptive mother was a gold-digging whore who trapped your father into adopting you. She didn't know the first thing about being a good parent."

"I don't know which one you're talking about. Enlighten me. The first one? Second? Should I go on? The list is long." The mention of my mothers stings, but I refuse to let Lilian see me hurt. "At least my adoptive mothers never tried to buy my love with designer clothes and fancy parties. They loved me for who I am, not who they wanted me to be."

"You should be grateful."

"Did you ask me to come here to tell me how good your life is, Lilian?" I asked, and she kept quiet.

"Well, look at what I've done for myself: a rich husband who takes care of me." That was it for me; she gave me up at birth, never cared about me, and now that she's doing well, she called me to come here. For what? To show me how poor I am?

Rage surges through me at her vicious words. Without thinking, I pick up my glass of orange juice and hurl it at her, showering her in sticky liquid. "Shut the fuck up!" I scream. "You don't know anything about me, you cunt!"

Lilian gasps, her hand flying to her chest as if I've physically wounded her. "How could you?" she whispers.

My hands clench into fists at my sides as Lilian continues her venomous tirade. But before she can say anything else, a deep voice cuts through the tension.

"Babe, I'll be heading off," the man says from the doorway. "I've got a meeting in the office."

Lilian immediately softens her expression, plastering on a saccharine-sweet smile. "All right, darling. Have a good day."

I don't even pretend to look at the man as he steps into view behind my mom. "Honey, meet Eden," Lilian prompts again.

Our eyes lock, the air crackles, and a jolt of recognition courses through me. It's him, the man who fucked me senseless in the parking lot the other day. His jaw clenches, surprise flickering across his face before he quickly schools his features into a polite mask.

"Eden, it's a pleasure to meet you," he says smoothly, extending a hand.

I hesitate a moment too long before shaking it, my mind racing. What the hell is this? "Uh, yeah, you too," I choke out, struggling to keep my voice steady.

Lilian beams, oblivious. "Isn't he wonderful? So attentive and caring."

Daniel puts an arm around her, drawing her close. "Of course, darling. You know I'm always here for you." His eyes flick back to me, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

I have to get out of here before I do something stupid. "Well, it was great meeting you," I say, already reaching for a bag I knew I wasn't carrying. When i didn't find anything, I smiled. "I've got to run…I have a lot to do."

I barely wait for their responses before rushing out the door, my heart hammering against my ribs. I can't believe this is happening. The random old man I fuck turns out to be married to my mom? What are the fucking odds?

As I drive away, Daniel's smug face flashes in my mind. He knew exactly who I was, and he got off on seeing me squirm. Well, two can play at that game. I may not like Lilian much, but I'm not about to let her new hubby make a fool of me. No, I have a feeling this is going to be one hell of a ride...