"Tell me about Brooklyn," he said suddenly, his voice pulling her from her thoughts.

She blinked.

He nodded, his expression unreadable.

—Yes, like sisters. —She hesitated, then added—: And you? Mom says you run a big company.

"Weaponry. Mainly weapons technology," he replied casually, though there was a sharp edge to his voice, as if he were holding back.

"Great," she murmured, though the idea of ​​him dealing with guns and ammunition clashed with the polished man beside her. Still, it suited him: power, control.

Kai weaved his way through the traffic, dodging taxis and pedestrians. Aurelia's phone vibrated again with Mira's reply: HOTTER? Girl, details! Does it smell good? Did you already touch it by accident?

She stifled a laugh and wrote: Stop. It's right here.

The car swerved slightly to avoid a pothole, throwing her against Ronan's side. His arm instinctively shot up to steady her, his warm hand resting on her shoulder.

"Good," she whispered, but she wasn't. Her touch lingered, her fingers brushing against her arm before pulling away. Her skin tingled, and her nipples hardened beneath her shirt from the contact. God, what was happening to her?

As they approached the freeway that led to her mother's neighborhood, the tension thickened. Ronan was silent now, but she felt his gaze on her, heavy and appraising. Part of her wanted to lean into that gaze, to see what would happen if she traced that tattoo as she had imagined. The other part screamed for her to run: this man was going to be her stepfather, damn it.

The house soon came into view: a spacious two-story home in an elegant suburb, the kind of place Selene had worked her way up to. Kai pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine.

"Home sweet home," Ronan said, opening the door.

Aurelia got out of the car, her legs unsteady. Her mother was waiting on the porch, her blonde hair catching the light, her figure as youthful as ever at thirty-five. But Aurelia's eyes returned to Ronan, who pulled his suitcase from the trunk with one hand, his muscles rippling.

Selene ran downstairs and wrapped her in a hug.

—Yes, Mom. —Aurelia returned the hug, but her mind was elsewhere, on the man who was watching them with an intensity that caused a tightness in the center of her body.

As they walked in, Ronan's hand brushed against the small of her back, guiding her… or was it something more? She shuddered; the touch ignited sparks. This week was going to be hell. Or heaven. She couldn't decide.

Inside, the house smelled of fresh flowers and home-cooked meals. Selene chattered about the wedding plans, but Aurelia barely heard her. She excused herself and went to her old room, collapsing onto the bed. Her phone vibrated: Watch again.

Tell me everything.

Aurelia typed with flying fingers: It's intense. It touched me. I think I'm in trouble.

Aurelia stared at her phone, the screen glowing dimly in the silence of her room. Mira's last message lay there, unread, a string of excited emojis frozen in time. Come on, reply already, she thought, her thumb hovering over the send button on her own unanswered message.

The house was too still, that kind of silence that amplified every creak and distant hum. She needed a distraction, something to help her shake off the electric buzz Ronan had left under her skin during the drive home.

With a sigh, she placed the phone face down on the nightstand and rolled up her sleeves. Rearranging the room would help; it would make it feel like her own again after so many years away.

Dust particles danced in the slanting afternoon light as she lifted the edge of the bed, propping it against the wall to vacuum underneath. Her fingers brushed against something small and forgotten in the shadows: a worn stuffed wolf, its fur matted from childhood hugs. I didn't know this would still be here, she murmured, feeling a pang of nostalgia.

Mom must have put it away, hidden like a secret. She placed it next to her phone, the toy's button eyes gazing innocently upward, and went back to cleaning.

She cleaned the shelves, folded old clothes in the drawers, and fluffed the pillows until the space smelled faintly of lemon cleaner and no longer felt like a time capsule. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but the physical exertion grounded her, pushing Ronan's piercing gaze to the back of her mind. Just as she finished arranging the last curtain, her phone buzzed, vibrating on the floorboards.

She grabbed it quickly. Mira's video call icon was flashing. Aurelia accepted, and her friend's face filled the screen: wide eyes, messy ponytail, and that signature smile.

"Don't you ever get tired? Don't you sleep?" Aurelia laughed, collapsing onto the bed. The sound eased the knot in her chest.

Mira waved her hand dismissively.

Aurelia bit her lip, feeling the heat rise up her neck as she recounted the encounter at the airport.

I kept looking at him, imagining I was tracing him with my fingers. She paused and lowered her voice. "He caught me looking, Mira. He said something like he could read my mind. And in the car… his leg kept brushing against mine. I felt an attraction, like my body didn't belong to me. God, I can't believe I feel this way about my mother's fiancé."

Mira's eyes widened in shock and she let out a sharp gasp.

A muffled "I'm sorry, Mom!" was heard from off-screen as Mira covered her mouth with her hand.

Aurelia stifled a giggle.

"I have to go, I'll text you soon." Mira blew a kiss and ended the call, leaving Aurelia alone with her racing thoughts.

At that moment, her stomach growled, loud and insistent. She hadn't eaten anything since the airplane snack, and the kitchen was calling her. But going out meant risking another encounter with Ronan. I don't want to feel like this with him again, she told herself, steeling herself. She opened the door carefully and peeked into the hallway. Empty. Good. Tiptoeing across the plush carpet, she slipped into the kitchen. The coolness of the tiles beneath her socks was a relief.

Thank God, there's no one here, she whispered, helping herself to a plate of leftover pasta from the refrigerator, her mother's specialty, rich in sauce and herbs. She placed it on the counter and reached for a bottle of water; the refrigerator door closed with a soft thud.

She jumped, almost dropping her plate, her heart pounding in her ribs. There, behind the door, was Ronan. Shirtless. His broad chest gleamed in the kitchen lights, every muscle well-defined, his pecs flexing slightly as he braced a strong arm against the refrigerator to keep it open. Sweat glistened on his skin, as if he'd just finished a workout, and that tattoo she'd noticed earlier… now stretched across his entire torso: bold black lines curving over his collarbone, down his sternum, and disappearing into the waistband of his low-rise sweatpants.

Aurelia's mouth went dry. Her eyes involuntarily followed the trail of ink. Her mouth watered; she could almost feel the heat radiating from him, smell the clean scent of his shower gel mixed with something primal, wild. Her thighs tightened as she imagined those arms holding her captive, his full lips claiming hers.

She slapped her cheek lightly, jerking off.

Ronan didn't respond immediately. He slipped a hand into his pocket, a movement that drew her gaze lower, to the bulge straining against the fabric. He took another step closer, closing the distance with deliberate slowness. Aurelia backed away, but the countertop caught her, her bottom pressing against the edge. He continued advancing until his breath brushed her face, warm and minty, raising the fine hairs on her skin. His dark eyes locked onto hers, pupils dilated, and he bit the corner of his lower lip, his gaze drifting down to her mouth and then lower still, lingering on the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

Her pulse pounded in her ears, and her core throbbed with a sudden, insistent beat. She could feel the bond of companionship pulling her, though she didn't yet understand it, an invisible thread drawing her toward him and making her cunt clench with need. They were only inches apart; if he leaned in any further, his cock would rub against her hip.

The top cupboard door clicked shut, snapping her out of her trance. Ronan had reached for the can of whipped cream above her, brushing against her body in the process: his arm grazed her side and his hip gently bumped her thigh. He stepped back, can in hand, and walked away without a word, his bottom swaying with each step.

Aurelia clutched her chest, her breath coming in short gasps. She grabbed her plate and ran to her room, slamming the door and locking it. Leaning against the wood, she slid down until her knees touched the floor, her heart pounding like a drum.

"What was that?" she gasped, standing up and climbing onto the bed. She ate mechanically; the pasta tasted like ash as her mind replayed the encounter over and over. His scent clung to her clothes, making them squirm. By the time she finished her plate, frustration was boiling in her stomach, raw and painful.

She tiptoed back to the kitchen to put the plate away, rinsing it quickly under the tap. The house was quieter now, but as she walked back, a strange sound came from her mother's room: rhythmic knocking, muffled gasps, a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine.

Don't tell me these people are shameless enough to fuck me like that right here, she thought, her cheeks burning. She walked slowly, trying to pass without looking, but the door was ajar, letting a sliver of light into the hallway. The temptation gnawed at her. Just a glance. What harm could it do?

She crept closer and pushed the door open a little further with trembling fingers. The scene hit her like a punch: Selene on the bed, her wrists bound above her head with a silk tie threaded through the headboard. Her legs spread wide, knees bent, as Ronan knelt between them. He gripped her hips and thrust his cock deep into her cunt with brutal strokes; the wet thumps echoed and Selene's moans filled the air.

A large hand encircled her throat, squeezing just enough to make it arch, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

Aurelia squeezed her thighs together, feeling the heat flood her center. Her panties were soaked, her clitoris throbbing with Ronan's thrusts. She watched, mesmerized, as his muscles tensed, his ass clenching with each push, his balls slapping against Selene's skin. Semen and arousal coated his member, glistening as he half-withdrew before plunging back in.

Then Ronan turned his head and his eyes locked onto hers through the crack. He didn't stop. A slow, wicked smile curved his lips, dark and knowing, as he tightened his grip on Selene's throat and fucked her with renewed force. His gaze held Aurelia's, defiant, promising. The bond between them ignited, sending a direct jolt to her cunt that made her knees buckle.

She fled. The door slammed shut behind her as she dove under the covers. Her heart pounding and her body burning, she curled into a ball. His smile burned in her mind, that predatory gleam. She wouldn't get a wink of sleep that night. The stuffed wolf watched her from the table, as if it knew all her secrets.