1. prolog

Lona knew exactly what she was working with. Standing before the full-length mirror in her room, she admired herself, tracing the curves that had blossomed far beyond her years. Her firm chest was a defiant invitation, while her hips sloped perfectly into a tight, rounded seat. To her, beauty wasn't just a trait—it was a weapon, and her mother’s revolving door of marriages was her personal battlefield.

Stepfather Number One was a stiff businessman who crumbled the moment Lona accidentally spilled juice down his crisp white shirt.

"Oh, I’m so sorry, Daddy... let me clean that up for you," she whispered, dropping to her knees between his legs. Her slender fingers began circling his thigh with a slow, provocative rhythm.

She looked up at him, her eyes heavy with temptation, the tip of her tongue darting out to wet her crimson lips. A single, hot breath against his ear was all it took; her mother had the divorce papers signed just a few days later.

Stepfather Number Two was even easier. An athletic man with a weakness for the pool. Lona simply slid into a bikini two sizes too small, letting the sun feast on her flawless skin.

"The water is so cold... won't you help warm me up, Daddy?" she purred, wrapping herself around him from behind in the water. She pressed her soft, supple chest firmly against his back, letting the friction do the work.

It was enough to make him lose every ounce of sanity. Lona laughed internally as he began to worship her body like a madman—right before she caught the whole thing on camera for her mother to see.

Then came Stepfather Number Three and Four. One was an artist who fell the second Lona posed "half-bare" under the guise of being his muse. The other was a professor whose defenses shattered when she walked into his study wearing nothing but a trench coat.

"What do you like more, Daddy? My legs... or something a little deeper?" she teased, letting the belt of the coat slip. The fabric parted slowly, revealing a view that would make any man forget how to breathe.

________

LIVING ROOM

The silence of the mansion was suddenly shattered by a gut-wrenching sob. Lona sat huddled on the sofa, her petite frame trembling violently. Her hair was tossed into a messy tangle, and her shirt was unbuttoned just enough to suggest a desperate struggle.

"Mama... hic... I’m so scared," she sobbed brokenly as her mother rushed into the room.

"Lona? Baby, what happened?" Her mother panicked, pulling her only daughter into a tight embrace.

Lona looked up, her eyes swollen and her nose flushed from a masterclass in fake tears. "Daddy... he came into my room again, Mama. He kept saying I was beautiful... he wouldn't stop touching me even though I begged him to stop... hic.... Why do you always bring these monsters into our home? Why do they only want my body?"

She buried her face in her mother’s chest, hiding a sharp, triumphant smirk. Behind those pitiful sobs, she was already mapping out her next move. These men were just trash to be discarded, and Lona was the queen holding all the cards.

But she had no idea that Stepfather Number Five was a different breed entirely. Revanyounger, devastatingly handsome, and possessing a heart carved from ice—was already waiting to turn her little game upside down.