Poisonous Tension

Damien’s words from last night still burned in my ears.

I barely slept. When morning came, I forced myself to get dressed in a simple white blouse and black skirt. My hands shook as I looked in the mirror. I felt dirty knowing Victor could come to me at any moment. I sold my body to a man old enough to be my father. The shame never left me.

I walked into the dining room for breakfast. Victor sat at the head of the long table reading his newspaper. He looked up when I entered.

“Good morning, Ava,” he said flatly. “Sit down.”

I took my seat quietly. “Good morning.”

Before I could say more, the sound of footsteps made me look up. Damien walked in wearing a black shirt and dark pants. He looked fresh and powerful. His eyes met mine immediately.

Victor did not even look up from his paper. “Ava, this is my son, Damien. He returned from Europe last night. Damien, this is Ava. My wife.”

Damien sat down across from me. A slow, mocking smile spread across his face. “Nice to meet you, stepmother. You look well rested after last night.”

I kept my eyes on my plate. “Hello,” I said softly.

Victor’s phone rang. He answered it and started talking business. He barely paid attention to us.

Damien leaned forward slightly. His voice was low so only I could hear. “Did my father fuck you last night? Or are you still waiting for him to claim his new toy?”

My face burned with shame. I gripped my fork tightly. “Please stop,” I whispered. “You should not talk to me like that.”

He chuckled quietly. “Why not? You married him for money. You let an old man buy you. Does it make you wet knowing I watched you in that tiny robe?”

“Damien, please,” I begged in a low voice. “I feel sick enough already. I had no choice. My family needed help. Do not make this harder for me.”

Victor ended his call and stood up. “I have meetings all day. Damien, show Ava around the penthouse if you want. I will be back late tonight.”

The moment Victor left, the air became thick with tension. I stood up quickly. “I think I will go read in my room.”

I avoided Damien all day. I stayed in the library for hours. I tried to lose myself in a book, but my mind kept replaying his words. Every time I heard footsteps, my heart raced.

Later in the afternoon, I decided to use the home gym to clear my head. I wore workout clothes and started walking on the treadmill. The room had mirrors on every wall.

I heard the door open behind me. Damien stepped inside and closed it. He wore a tight black t-shirt that showed his muscles.

“Running away from me, Ava?” he asked.

I kept walking. “I just want to be alone. Please leave me alone.”

He walked closer and stood right next to the treadmill. “You cannot avoid me forever. We live in the same house now. Tell me the truth. How does it feel to spread your legs for a man three times your age?”

I stopped the treadmill and stepped down. My voice trembled. “Stop it. I feel ashamed every single day. I hate myself for it. But I did it for my parents. You do not know what it is like to watch your family lose everything.”

Damien moved fast. He grabbed my arm and pushed me back against the mirrored wall. Our bodies pressed together. I could feel how hard he was against my stomach. His breathing was heavy.

“You say you hate it,” he growled, “but your body reacts every time I get close. Look at yourself in the mirror, Ava. Look how your nipples are hard right now.”

I turned my face away. “Let me go, Damien. This is wrong. I am your father’s wife.”

“His wife?” He laughed darkly. “You are his whore. And you know it.”

He held me there for a long moment. Our eyes locked in the mirror. The heat between us felt dangerous. Then he suddenly stepped back.

I hurried out of the gym without another word. My legs felt weak.

That night, Victor sent a message. He would not be coming home again. I sat alone in the living room with a glass of expensive red wine. The penthouse felt too quiet and too big.

The elevator chimed around midnight. Damien walked in. His shirt was half unbuttoned, showing his tattooed chest and hard muscles. He looked like he had been drinking.

He saw me on the couch and walked straight over.

“Drinking alone, stepmother?” he asked. “Waiting for my father again?”

I stood up. “I am not waiting for anyone. I just want peace.”

“Peace?” He stepped closer. “You will never have peace here. You sold yourself to a monster. My father destroys everything he touches.”

Anger rose inside me. “And what about you? You come back here and treat me like garbage. Why do you hate him so much?”

“Because he is a cold bastard who only cares about power and money,” Damien said. His voice grew louder. “He ruined my mother. He treats women like objects. And now he bought you. A young, beautiful girl to warm his old bed.”

Tears filled my eyes. “I know that. I feel disgusting every time I think about it. But I had no other way.”

Damien moved closer until I backed up against the grand piano. “Then why does your body burn when I touch you?”

“I do not,” I whispered.

“Liar,” he said.

Suddenly his mouth crashed down on mine. The kiss was rough and angry. His hands roamed over my body possessively. He grabbed my waist and pulled me hard against him. I should have pushed him away, but for a moment I kissed him back. His tongue pushed into my mouth. His hands squeezed my ass.

We kissed like we wanted to punish each other. He lifted me onto the piano. My legs wrapped around him. His hardness pressed between my thighs.

Then he pulled back suddenly. We were both breathing hard.

“This cannot happen,” I said, my voice shaking.

Damien stared at me with dark eyes.

A small red light blinked in the corner of the room. One of the security cameras. Someone was watching us.