Chapter 4: i slept with my mom husband

Ofelia’s POV

The plane ride felt endless. I stared out the window at the clouds below, my two suitcases stuffed in the overhead bin and my heart heavy in my chest. Mom had booked the ticket and even paid for a car to pick me up from the airport. Part of me was grateful. The other part wouldn’t stop twisting with worry.

She met me at the arrivals gate with a big smile and open arms. “Ofelia! My beautiful girl.” She pulled me into a tight hug, smelling like expensive perfume I didn’t recognize. Her hair was freshly dyed, her nails perfect. She looked… happy. Too happy.

“Mom,” I said, hugging her back. “Thanks for this. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Nonsense. This is perfect timing.” She linked her arm with mine as we walked toward the exit. “You’ll love it here. Richard’s estate is incredible.”

Richard. So that was his name.

In the fancy black town car she had waiting, the words started pouring out of her. She couldn’t stop talking about him. “We got married just three weeks ago. I know it seems fast, but when you know, you know. This is marriage number six for me, but Ofelia, this one is different.”

I raised an eyebrow, staring at her. “Number six? Mom… really?”

She waved her hand like it was nothing. “The others ended badly, yes. You remember. Your father was number one—left when you were little. Number two drank too much. Three was controlling. Four had gambling problems. Five… well, he just wasn’t right for me. But Richard? He’s kind. Successful. Devoted. He owns multiple companies—tech, real estate, investments. Several estates too. And he has private security. The man takes care of what’s his.”

I rolled my eyes and looked out the window as the city gave way to rolling hills. “Sounds too good to be true. You always say that at the beginning.”

“But this time it is true,” she insisted, her voice soft and dreamy. “He treats me like a queen. No fighting. No secrets. He even said he can’t wait to meet you. You can stay as long as you need while you get back on your feet. No pressure.”

I wasn’t convinced. Mom had a pattern. She fell hard, fast, and then everything crashed. I’d watched it five times already. Each “perfect” man turned out to be another disaster. Now she was married again after knowing him for what—maybe a couple of months? And this one was a billionaire with estates and armed guards? It sounded like a recipe for more pain.

The car climbed higher into the hills. Tall iron gates appeared ahead, flanked by stone walls that seemed to stretch forever. Security cameras everywhere. As we pulled up, two armed guards stepped forward. They checked the driver, then waved us through with serious faces. Their eyes scanned the car like they expected trouble.

“Wow,” I muttered. The mansion that came into view looked more like a palace. Huge white columns, perfectly manicured lawns, fountains sparkling in the late afternoon sun. It was massive. Intimidating. Something about the place felt… strange. Too quiet. Too perfect. The guards didn’t smile. They moved with purpose, like soldiers, and I noticed how they kept glancing toward the main house almost nervously.

The owner must be intense.

My stomach twisted. I thought about Damien for the hundredth time since that night. His strong hands, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the room. The business card burning a hole in my bag. I’d almost thrown it away twice, but something stopped me.

Mom squeezed my hand. “You’ll see. Richard is wonderful. He’s away on business right now, but he’ll be back soon. He’s so excited to have you here.”

I forced a small smile. “Sure, Mom.”

The car stopped at the grand entrance. Staff in crisp uniforms came out to take my bags. Everything felt surreal. I was homeless three days ago, and now I was walking into this? It didn’t feel like a rescue. It felt like stepping into another world I didn’t belong in.

As we walked up the wide marble steps toward the massive front doors, my eyes caught something parked off to the side. A sleek black luxury car. Low, powerful lines. The exact same model that had picked Damien up that morning outside the hotel after our night together. I remembered watching it glide away from the window, my heart sinking even then.

My steps slowed. A cold shiver ran down my spine.

No. It couldn’t be. There had to be hundreds of cars like that in this city. Rich men loved their toys. It was just a coincidence.

But the feeling wouldn’t go away. The way the guards acted. The sheer size of this place. Mom’s sudden perfect marriage.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. “Mom… what did you say Richard’s last name is?”

She turned to me with a bright smile, completely missing the tension in my voice. “Voss, sweetheart. Richard Voss. But everyone calls him by his middle name sometimes—Damien. He prefers it in personal settings.”

The world tilted.

Damien.

My one-night stranger. The man who made me forget my pain for a few perfect hours. The man who disappeared without a trace.

And now he was my mother’s husband.

My stepfather.

I stood frozen on the steps, staring at that black car, my heart pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears. The front doors opened, but I barely noticed. Everything I thought was rock bottom suddenly felt like it was about to get much, much worse.