LUSTING AFTER MY FATHER’s BEST FRIEND.

ANASTASIA. I AM OFFICIALLY AN ADULT NOW. Maybe that's what I like to think, since dad still deemed me a kid. He has always been the person who would stand by me and never give up on me. Not like he had any choice since I was dropped off at his doorstep eighteen years ago, when he was a college student. And ever since then, he had been the best father I could ever ask for. But tell me, why are the people at my birthday party my father’s coworkers? Talk of politicians, lawyers, senators, and the like. You can count how many people my age are at this party, and I'm telling you they are not up to five. It feels like it's my father’s birthday, but I'm trying so hard not to show that I dislike the arrangement. Well, who am I kidding? Even if I did show it, there's nothing that would happen about it. He has made it his mission not to have me around anybody my age. According to him, the world is dangerous, and I just need to keep a close-knit circle. I can sense him

ANASTASIA. The glass slipped, a brief rebellion against my fingers, and exploded against the stainless steel sink. Shards scattered across the countertop, and it made everywhere disorganized. The noise was a brutal sound, perfectly synced with the screaming climax of Twenty One Pilots from the Alexa. I winced. Moving on autopilot, my hands began the careful work of gathering the pieces. My attention, however, was on my phone. The group chat–Liam, Jenna, Harper–was filled with memes and dull chatters. I labelled them friends, but academic acquaintances’ was more honest. We're all pre-law students, drawn together by nearness and ambition, I knew they were not close to me for any other reason thato get favoured when it was time to apply to Dad’s law firm.. It's hard for me to trust that anyone's interest was genuine. Since I was a child, most people have been drawn to the gravitational pull of my father's success or the spectacle of our family drama–specifically, the en

ANASTASIA I have not been able to get those words out of my head. HER FUTURE HUSBAND. I didn't know how to react; I was overwhelmed and hiding, like I always do. I couldn't sleep. I wanted to stay with Dad, but Damien did his thing and told me to go home and get some sleep because tomorrow was a big day. He didn't voice the last part, but I figured it out on my own. But I couldn't just get some sleep, not even after I blasted Taylor Swift on my headphones and exhausted myself by stress dancing, not even when I swallowed three sleeping pills—or maybe five. I lost count somewhere. My mind was definitely shutting down. Usually, Dad makes me some herbal tea—with raspberry flavor—and reads me a story as if I'm a little girl. He puts me to sleep and stays by my side till I fall asleep. But Dad wasn't there last night. I could feel the loss of his presence in my bones, and maybe that was the reason I didn't sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about what to do if something ha

ANASTASIA. He pauses with his hand on his door’s handle. “What did you just call me?” “Husband. You know what they call the man when they get married? Yeah, that–” “Lose it.” “Lose what?” “The word. Lose it.” “No.” I crossed my arms over my chest as I glared at him. “What I call you is my business, I can decide to call you whatever, you don't control me. Plus, we need to keep things original, you know, Cierra, she's cunning, and it's only a matter of time before she starts sniffing around us, and she's smart too. It's not a coincidence that Dad has been battling a lifetime of court cases with her.” “Anastasia,” he warns. “You need to start calling me Ana or something for this whole thing to work,” I said, getting tired of how my skin tingles anytime he calls me by my full name. He shouldn't have that much access to me. A cold smile takes over his mouth, and I know that whatever is about to come out of his mouth will not be to my liking. “What about kiddo

DAMIEN. I could feel the muscles clenching in my jaw and upper chest. With every word out of her mouth, she's digging a knife into places that shouldn't be disturbed. What the fuck was this girl doing to me? “For once, you said something correct.” “Which part?” “That you can't stand a chance. You can't, you wouldn't. So stop playing with me. You're playing a dangerous game here, Anastasia.” “Or…what? What if I don't want to stop?” I approached her predatory-like, deliberately taking my time. At first, she stood her ground, which was amusing to see. I looked in her eyes that pulled me in like I was in a fucking trance. A trance that I had no chance of warding off. When I'm within touching distance, she steps back. But she's not fast enough, as she trips. I quickly catch her by the elbow and pull her towards me. She crashed into my chest, and it's a full body crash, where her soft curves are moulded into me, her thick thighs touch mine, her breasts are huddled