A Rich Man’s Son

Chapter 2: A Rich Man's Son

“Did you like the show?” Cody grinned.

“Are you always this crude, or do you save it just for women married to your father?”

Her response seemed to excite and possibly intrigue him too.

“Only the ones who watch me while they bite their lip.”

Marilyn stared at the inked menace as he stepped into the light.

Shirtless, smug, every inch the arrogant bastard he was raised to be. She should’ve slapped him. She should’ve walked away.

But her legs didn’t move. And her core still throbbed.

Then it dawned on her.

“You live here as well?”

“Bingo!” He swung himself onto the edge of the table like it was his throne and slowly took in the beauty standing in front of him. His father's new wife.

What a shame.

She could’ve had fire. Instead she picked frost.

“For Victor's sake, make better choices next time.” She raised her chin high.

The brunette from earlier walked to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Call me.” She purred before disappearing into the night.

He didn't even look at her. His eyes stayed locked on Marilyn.

He grinned at her, then stuck out a hand. “The name's Cody.”

Marilyn stared at the hand with no intention of touching it after knowing where it's been ten minutes ago.

“Marilyn.”

She turned to leave.

She paused, halfway to the door when he spoke.

“That red lipstick? It looks better when you’re angry.”

She didn't stay a second longer as she walked out immediately, leaving Cody with a grin and a still-stretched-out hand.

———

Later that morning.

At breakfast later, Marilyn stirred her tea like she wasn't thinking about last night.

The sinful, tattooed man who had moaned into a stranger’s neck while watching her from the foyer.

No.

She was Mrs. Marilyn Fontaine now. His stepmother.

Pretty. Perfect. Plastic.

Victor sat across from her at the breakfast table, sharp in his tailored robe, skimming headlines with one hand and sipping black coffee with the other.

“You were good last night,” he said without looking up. “You sing beautifully, my dove.”

Marilyn smiled over the rim of her teacup. “I aim to please.”

The silence between them was stiff. Strategic. They were like two snakes coiled at opposite ends of a gold-dipped pit pretending to be in love.

Trying hard at fooling each other.

Marilyn glanced at his tablet. Victor was reading financial reports. No surprise.

“You mentioned wanting to expand the Fontaine holdings in Eastern Europe,” she said lightly. “Have you considered funneling through Cyprus? Looser trade restrictions.”

His eyes snapped up. “Since when are you interested in my business?”

She tilted her head innocently. “Since I married it.”

Victor studied her for a moment too long. Marilyn held her breath. Careful now. She needed more than just information.

She needed access.

“If you’re going on your trip to Prague next week,” she added, “I’d like to come.”

He set the tablet down. “No.”

Just like that.

“It’s a sensitive meeting,” he said. “And frankly, a bimbo wife in red lingerie has no place at a table with diplomats and investors.”

The backhanded insult landed with a quiet sting. Marilyn lowered her gaze, playing the docile card Victor craved.

Before she could reply, a new voice slid through the air like smoke.

“Wow, Dad. You’re in rare form this morning.”

Cody strolled into the dining room shirtless again, barefoot, and dripping with unbothered sin. In his hand was a medium-sized box wrapped with a neon green bow.

His black sweatpants hung low on his hips, revealing that same trail of muscle Marilyn had tried very hard not to think about all night.

Victor glared. “Could you at least put a damn shirt on before breakfast?”

Cody ignored him, grabbing a croissant from the tray and taking a bite like he owned the world.

“Sorry. I didn’t know dress code applied in my own home.” He winked at Marilyn. “Morning, Mum.”

Her throat dried.

Victor groaned. “For God’s sake.”

Cody grinned. “I’ve got a race today. Big one. Could be international qualifying if I win.”

Victor didn’t look up from his coffee. “Then don’t lose.”

“Thought maybe you’d want to show up. Support your only son.”

“I don’t make appearances at tacky circus events.”

Cody’s jaw ticked. But he smiled. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to stain the Fontaine name with fun.”

He turned to Marilyn then, gaze dropping briefly to where her dress dipped low in front.

She was in a modest cream dress now, but something about the way he looked at her made her feel like she was still in that red robe. Still dripping lust. Still watched.

“You coming, Stepmother?”

Victor replied. “She’s going in my place.”

“I am?”

“Yes. Since you’re so eager to contribute, go be decorative at Cody's event.”

Marilyn blinked. The feeling of anger and frustration hitting her at the same time. She hated Victor so much that pretending often felt like it was chirping away parts of her soul.

Just take a deep breath, Marilyn.

She masked her rage with a smile and instead reached for his hand on the table. “I'll make you proud.”

Cody’s brows lifted. “Well, well. I’ll try to contain my excitement.”

“Don’t crash. I don’t have time to mourn you.”

Cody saluted him mockingly. “Love you too, Dad.”

Victor stood to leave.

“Hold on, dad. I have something for you. The both of you.”

Cody placed the box on the table, in front of Victor. “I missed the wedding. But I still brought a gift. I'm thoughtful like that.”

Victor's face twisted into a frown. “What is this?”

“You're supposed to open it, dad.” He winked at Marilyn. “I bet your wife is gonna love it.”

Marilyn’s stomach tightened. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe.

Victor tore the green ribbon and opened the black box.

Silence.

Then, a shift in the air…

Victor’s face went hard like steel locking into place.

He reached in and pulled out the gift. Slowly.

A wisp of blood-red lace curled around his fingers.

Marilyn’s heart stopped.

It was a lingerie set.

Expensive. Delicate. Wicked. Her size. Her style.

The same red as her robe from the previous night.

Victor stared at it like it was a live snake.

Then he read the card out loud.

“Thought you might want something that actually fits you.”

“—C.”

A beat passed.

Victor looked up at Cody with murder in his eyes.

“You smug little bastard.”

Cody just bit into his croissant, moaned softly, then winked at Marilyn.

“Told you she'd love it.”