Chapter 2: Damn farmiliar

~ Druscilla ~

“Hey, darling… thank God you’re safe.” Patricia rushed across the living room and pulled me into a tight hug the second I stepped through the door, her arms squeezing like she needed to make sure I was real.

“Sweetheart, we were scared out of our minds,” Dad said, coming up right behind her—my stepmother. “We heard about the shootout.”

“I’m fine. Really. You guys don’t have to worry.” I forced a smile, even though every muscle in my body still felt wired. “I’m safe. I’m alive.”

“Thank goodness,” Patricia breathed out, finally letting go. “Your father almost had a damn heart attack last night,” she added, shooting him a look.

I rolled my eyes. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright. Go freshen up,” she said, waving me off with that dismissive little flick of her wrist. “You look like hell.”

“I know,” I muttered, rolling my eyes again as I headed for the stairs.

Right as my foot hit the first step, the doorbell chimed.

“I got it,” Patricia called, peeling away from the kitchen while Dad started setting the table for breakfast.

The door swung open, and Kaila burst in like a whirlwind. “Where’s Dru?”

“She’s right here,” Patricia answered.

I turned back just as Kaila spotted me. She didn’t hesitate—she ran straight over and threw her arms around me so hard I stumbled a step.

“I’m so sorry, Dru,” she whispered against my shoulder. “I shouldn’t have left you in there. Panic just… it stole my damn sense of reasoning.”

I hugged her back, then pulled away enough to give her hand a soft squeeze. “It’s okay. I’m safe. Unhurt. That’s all that matters.”

“Wait…” Dad’s voice cut through from behind us, low and suspicious. “You weren’t with Kaila last night?”

I spun around too fast.

“Where the hell did you spend the night then?” He crossed his arms, eyes narrowing.

I let out a long, slow breath. “A friend’s.”

“Avery?”

I didn’t stick around to let him finish. I bolted up the stairs, Kaila right on my heels.

The second she shut my bedroom door behind us, she rounded on me. “Okay, spill. Where did you really spend the night?”

“Nowhere important,” I said, gathering my wild red hair and twisting it up into a messy bun.

Her gasp stopped me cold. I turned.

“Is that a hickey?” She pointed straight at my neck, eyes wide.

“What?”

“There’s a freaking hickey on your neck.”

I whipped toward the mirror. My stomach dropped. There it was—Ivan’s mark, pink and raw against my skin, like he’d branded me.

“Did you finally Isaac do it ?” Kaila asked, waggling her brows with that playful smirk.

I didn’t answer.

“Wait… you guys actually did it?” Her grin stretched ear to ear, eyes sparkling like she’d won the lottery.

I yanked my hair back down, letting the strands curtain over the evidence. “Stop asking dumb questions,” I said, pressing out a tight smile.

No way in hell could I tell her the truth—that mark came from the stepbrother we used to giggle and drool over as teenagers. The one who’d always been off-limits, dangerous in ways we never fully admitted.

I didn’t give her time to dig deeper. I darted into the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

Kaila was like a bloodhound with questions. She’d keep pressing until she cracked me open. No way was I risking that.

I twisted the shower knob. Hot water poured down, steam filling the small space. But the heat couldn’t burn away the memories. All I could see was him. Ivan.

The way he’d kissed me last night—slow, consuming, like he was drinking me in. No one had ever kissed me like that. Not even Isaac. It left me dizzy, aching, ready to hand over every piece of myself right there on his sheets.

Thank God he’d stopped us. Thank God he’d turned me down.

I stepped out eventually, towel-dried, and slipped into a sharp corporate dress—tailored, professional, armor. Kaila had already left for work.

My phone buzzed on the dresser just as I fastened my watch. Isaac’s name lit up the screen.

I answered on the first ring.

“I’m so sorry about last night, darling,” he said right away, voice all soft and sweet like honey.

“I called you a million times, Isaac,” I grumbled. “I needed you. You didn’t pick up.”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he repeated. “I was stuck in a meeting.”

“At that hour?” My brow furrowed.

“You wouldn’t understand, dear. Client had an emergency. But I’m deeply sorry.”

A pout tugged at my lips despite myself.

“Let me make it up to you tonight,” he said.

I ran the brush through my hair.

“How about dinner at that Italian place you love? Just us.”

“That’s… not bad,” I admitted, a small smile creeping in.

“See you at six. Love you, darling.”

“Love you too,” I started. “And—”

The line went dead. He’d hung up.

I sighed. Just as always. Always busy.

Downstairs, Dad and Patricia were almost finished with breakfast.

“Ain’t you eating?” Dad asked as I slid my tablet into my bag.

“No, Dad. Running late. Gotta inspect a venue for a client.”

“Okay… but don’t starve yourself, alright?”

“I’ll grab something on the way. Promise.”

I reached for the doorknob when Patricia’s voice stopped me. “Wait, Dru. You’ve got a package.”

I turned. “A package?”

“Yeah. No idea who sent it, but it’s for you.” She got up, walked over to the sofa, and picked up a neatly wrapped box-shaped thing I hadn’t noticed before.

She handed it over. “Here.”

“Thanks,” I said, managing a smile.

God, I was already so late. But curiosity tugged harder than the clock. I carried it upstairs to my room instead.

Set it on the bed. Stared at it.

Who the hell sent this? And what was inside?

Had to be Isaac. Probably his way of apologizing for ditching me last night. A little bribe in gift form. Nothing wrong with that. Sweet, even. Gentlemanly. Though he could’ve mentioned it on the call.

I went back to the bed and started peeling away the wrapping, layer by careful layer.

Inside: a sealed plastic bag, a small jewelry box, and a plain brown paper sack.

“Okay… what do we have here?” I muttered.

I tore open the sealed bag first.

Black lace lingerie spilled out—delicate, barely-there, with a heart-shaped cutout right at the crotch of the panties.

Oh my God.

Isaac, you sneaky bastard. Thoughtful. Sexy as hell.

Next, the small box. I popped it open.

A pair of silver nipple rings glinted under the light.

My forehead creased. Since when did Isaac…?

Well. Nothing wrong with trying new things. Maybe he’d been holding back.

Last, the paper bag.

I tipped it over. Photographs spilled across the comforter like confetti from hell.

I picked one up.

My whole body went cold.

Isaac, tangled in white sheets, bare chest, arm slung possessively around a blonde. Her face turned away, but that hair… that back…

My fingers trembled. My jaw unhinged.

Was Isaac cheating on me?

I flipped through the rest. Same scene, different angles. Always her back. Always that familiar blonde hair.

It looked so damn familiar.

I crushed one photo in my fist. Rage burned through me, hot and acidic, eating straight through my veins.

One thing hit me crystal clear.

This gift wasn’t from Isaac.

Not even close.