Chapter 5 – The Door Opens

Ofelia’s POV

It’s just a coincidence, I told myself as I followed Mom up the wide marble steps. Thousands of rich men own black luxury cars. They all look the same. Sleek, expensive, probably made in the same factory. My brain kept repeating it like a prayer. The car outside didn’t mean anything. Damien Voss was a common enough name in business circles. Or maybe I misheard Mom. Yeah. That had to be it.

But my heart didn’t believe a single word. It was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat. My palms were sweaty. Every step closer to the massive front doors made my legs feel heavier.

Mom was practically glowing. She squeezed my arm and chatted nonstop. “You’re going to love the house, sweetie. There’s a pool, a library, and even a home theater. Richard, well, Damien has thought of everything. He’s so generous.”

I forced a weak smile. “Yeah… sounds great, Mom.”

The doors swung open before we even reached them. First, I saw the shoes—polished black leather that probably cost more than my old rent. Then, powerful legs in tailored black pants. Broad shoulders filled out a crisp black button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to show strong forearms. And finally, those eyes.

Familiar dark eyes that had looked straight into mine while he moved inside me.

Damien.

The stranger from the club. The man who had made me forget my entire broken life for one perfect night. The man whose scent still lingered in my memories.

My stomach dropped. The world tilted hard, and I had to lock my knees so I wouldn’t stumble. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. Not him. Not my mother’s husband.

Damien’s eyes widened for a split second when they landed on me. Shock flashed across his face, raw and real, before he shut it down completely. His jaw tightened. Those powerful shoulders went rigid. But he didn’t say a word about the club. Not one hint that he recognized me.

I couldn’t speak either. My throat had closed up. Heat rushed to my face as memories flooded back: his hands on my skin, his low growls in my ear, the way he’d held me as I belonged to him. And now he was standing here, in this palace, as my stepfather.

Mom laughed brightly, completely clueless. She stepped forward and looped her arm through his like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Ofelia, meet my husband! Damien, this is my daughter, Ofelia. She’s had a rough time lately, but she’s here now. Everything’s going to be better.”

Damien recovered smoothly. He looked at me with cool, polite eyes—like we were strangers and slowly extended his hand. His voice was deep and controlled, the same velvet tone that had melted me that night. “Welcome home, Ofelia. Your mom has said nice things about you.”

His hand engulfed mine. Warm. Strong. The same hand that had gripped my hips and pulled me closer. Electricity shot up my arm, and I almost yanked away. But I didn’t. I shook it firmly, pretending my knees weren’t shaking.

“Thank you,” I managed, my voice small. “It’s… nice to meet you.”

Our eyes locked for a beat longer than necessary. Something dark and intense passed between us—recognition, heat, panic. Then it was gone. He dropped my hand like it was nothing and turned to Mom with a small smile.

“I’m glad you made it safely,” he said to her, kissing her cheek. “Dinner will be ready soon. Why don’t you show Ofelia to her room? She looks tired from the trip.”

Mom beamed up at him like he hung the moon. “Of course, darling. Come on, sweetie. Your room has the best view.”

I followed them inside in a daze. The foyer was massive—crystal chandeliers, marble floors, art on the walls that probably cost a fortune. Everything screamed money and power. But all I could focus on was Damien’s back as he walked ahead of us. Tall. Intimidating. The same man who had taken me to his penthouse and ruined me for anyone else.

He’s my stepfather now. The thought made me feel sick and strangely warm at the same time. I pressed a hand to my stomach without thinking. We’d been careful that night… mostly until the third round when we went raw. What if—

No. I couldn’t go there. Not yet. It was too soon to even think about that.

Mom chattered happily as she led me up the grand staircase. “Damien’s been so good to me. He travels a lot for business, but when he’s home, he makes time. You’ll see how different he is from the others.”

I nodded numbly. Different? The man was out cheating while she was in her playhouse. I felt bad for my mother, but I don't have the heart to tell her that I slept with her husband a few days ago.

My chest tightened with panic. How was I supposed to live here? How was I supposed to look at him every day and pretend nothing happened?

We reached a beautiful bedroom at the end of the hall. Big windows overlooking the gardens, a king-sized bed with soft white linens, and a private bathroom. It was nicer than anything I’d ever had.

“This is yours,” Mom said, hugging me again. “Take your time settling in. Dinner in an hour?”

“Sure,” I whispered.

She left, closing the door softly behind her. I sank onto the edge of the bed, my suitcases still by the door. My hands were trembling. I pulled Damien’s business card from my bag and stared at it. The same one he left on the nightstand that morning.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. They paused right outside my door for a long moment. No one needs to tell me who it was. I felt it in my bones. I held my breath. After a minute, he walked away

I let out a shaky sigh and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My life has taken a turn for the worse in the last week.

The worst part about all this is that I still want! I can still feel every bit of that night.

I try to snap myself out of it.

He was my mother’s husband. My stepdaddy now.