Chapter Two

Katrina’s POV

I couldn’t be imagining it, could I? But before I could even confirm, he pulled away from me. I looked at him a few feet away, my eyes unconsciously drifting southward to the visible bulge in his pants. I hurriedly looked away, not before catching his gaze, which made me blush.

He didn’t say a word, and the air felt heavy, almost electric. “I should go.” I dashed past him with my bag and rushed upstairs, trying to control myself, but my limbs were throbbing, and I could feel my juice soaking my panties.

He was my stepfather. What was happening? It couldn’t be real, could it? I wished it were.

Snap out of it, Katrina. He is your stepfather. He would never have those kinds of feelings toward you.

I stayed in my room all day, which strangely hadn’t changed a bit since I left, though it was obvious it was cleaned regularly. Soon, it was time for dinner, and I heard a small knock at my door.

I stepped out of the bathroom, still in my bathrobe, humming softly as I headed toward the door. It should have been the maid, since my other bags hadn’t yet been brought upstairs, as I had decided to avoid Lorenzo by staying in my room.

“Ye—” My words caught in my throat as I saw Lorenzo standing there, holding my bags. He was casually dressed, and I didn’t know why I found him more attractive this way than when he wore a suit.

“You left your bags downstairs. It’s time for dinner, let’s go,” he said, not looking at me as he walked ahead. I didn’t know why I felt heartbroken by that. Maybe I had just been imagining things earlier.

Walking down to the open kitchen, I saw him seated at the table, focused on something on the iPad in front of him. I knew he was a busy man, always preoccupied, so I quietly sat down without disturbing him.

The only sound was the clatter of cutlery. Lorenzo didn’t look up until he was done with whatever he was doing, then finally met my gaze. “Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked. I choked.

The question was so sudden and shocking. “S-sorry, I… I was stunned,” I apologized, wiping my lips while looking up at him. His chin rested on his knuckles, and once again, his cold eyes softened, sending a tingle through me.

“N-no, I don’t,” I stuttered, twisting my fingers nervously. Talking about this felt awkward, especially to the man I had feelings for—my stepfather.

“Are you telling me no man has asked a beautiful lady like you out? What are they thinking?” he asked, turning back to his food, eating delicately. Did he just call me beautiful? Today was the first real long conversation we had in two years, and it didn’t feel like a father-daughter talk anymore.

“Guys at college only want… sex, and…” I trailed off as I heard him drop his cutlery roughly, making me glance up.

“Sorry, I’m listening,” he said, giving me a soft smile before picking his cutlery back up. I gulped nervously. Was he upset that I mentioned it?

“I don’t want that,” I said quickly, embarrassed to explain why I didn’t want a boyfriend. I had tried before, but whenever I was with someone else, all I could think about was him—Lorenzo.

The one thing I could never admit to anyone was watching him back then, relieving himself. I didn’t know if he ever knew, but it was my secret to keep. My mother wasn’t always home.

She was either at social elite gatherings or with her friends. Even when she was home for dinner, she left immediately afterward, while he either locked himself in his office or went out as well, leaving me alone.

I wanted to ask him something that day and noticed his office door slightly open. There he was, hands on himself, moaning softly. I had always imagined what it would feel like to have him, even if just once. I didn’t mind.

“Katrina—” His voice jolted me back to reality. I was already tingling from the memories I just had. What would happen if he knew I had seen him like that?

“Don’t zone out on me,” he said firmly.

“S-sorry, I just… had a brief memory,” I laughed nervously, my face flushed as I returned to my food. More than anything, I wanted to explore those fantasies I had read about, and I didn’t want anyone else but him.

“Since you don’t have a boyfriend, I’m sure you’ve had fantasies?” he asked. I choked again, reaching for the water, but he already handed me a glass.

“Th-thank—” My words caught in my throat as his fingers brushed mine, and I suddenly let go of the cup, spilling water all over myself.

What sort of question was that?

"You're being clumsy, Katrina. Here, let me help you." Before I could refuse, he had already grabbed the napkin, wiping the water off my lap and stomach. If he did that, I was incredibly sensitive, and my body betrayed me.

"Don't—haa," I involuntarily let out a moan and immediately clasped my hands over my mouth. He paused for a few seconds before looking up at me, his deep blue eyes carrying an expression I had never seen in all the years I had known him.

"What's wrong, Katrina darling?" he tilted his head slightly. "I was just trying to clean you up. Don’t tell me you’re having ideas."

"Aaahh, I’m not," I gasped, pressing the back of my hand to my mouth as I felt his touch through my wet clothes. It was hot, like a warm substance had been pressed against my cold body. I couldn’t resist it, and I didn’t want to.

"I didn’t know you were this perverted, Katrina darling," his soft voice was intoxicating, and I felt like I was losing myself, even though he hadn’t done anything more than touch me.

"Stop calling me that…" I gasped as his hands trailed away from the napkin, settling instead on my lap. His touch was warm, and having his hand deliberately on my body sent shivers down my spine.

"But you got all hot from me calling you that. It’s not like you entirely hate it." He leaned closer, his lips barely an inch from my ear. "A little birdie told me you wished you were the one I called darling instead of Isabella."

What the?! Where did he see that?

The only place I remembered writing it was in my diary back then. Don’t tell me…

He read my diary!!