Father inlaw

Nessa’s POV

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Me: “Mm, you look so good on your knees.”

I had no idea why I blurted that out, but I did. And I wasn’t lying.

He did look good on his knees.

Aaron had always been small, which made him easy to bully back in high school. Even now, with a bit more muscle on him, he still had that delicate, almost boyish frame. And his face? It didn’t help. Big, round eyes, a small nose, chubby cheeks, and soft lips—he still looked like a damn teenager.

And me? I had a kink.

One I had buried so deep I convinced myself it didn’t exist. A small, submissive man, kneeling, doing whatever I wanted. Begging. Yearning. And here I was, staring at one in real life, and suddenly, I realized… I hadn’t buried it deep enough.

We locked eyes.

I could tell I had thrown him off, and for some reason, that made me smirk. But the moment stretched too long, and a sharp headache pulled me back to reality. I let my head fall back against the couch, shutting my eyes as the moment faded.

Aaron scrambled to his feet. Typical.

Aaron: “I’ll be going now. Take care—or don’t. I really don’t care.”

I let out a small laugh. Not because he was funny, but because it was adorable how hard he tried to act tough.

Poor thing didn’t even realize he wasn’t going anywhere.

Me: “Silly boy.”

He frowned, and I couldn’t help but tease.

Me: “The estate gate automatically locks at midnight. Only two people have the remote—a neighbor who’s out of the country, and my dad, who’s out of town. Sooo…” I stretched, sighing dramatically. “Looks like you’re stuck here with meee.”

His whole body tensed.

Aaron: “I have to spend the night here?! Fuck. I have class in the morning! And an assignment!”

Oh wow. Still the nerd.

Me: “You know, missing one assignment and skipping a day of school won’t kill you. Take it from me.”

Aaron: “Oh, gee, I don’t know—maybe that’s because your dad LITERALLY OWNS THE SCHOOL! You could skip a year and it wouldn’t make a difference!”

I rolled my eyes. So dramatic.

Me: “Stop whining and help me to my room. I’m not sleeping on this damn couch.”

Aaron: “Nessa, the last time I checked, I am not your freaking maid.”

I sighed. Loudly.

Me: “And yet, you’re still gonna do it. Come on.”

He rolled his eyes but, as expected, didn’t resist when I leaned on him for support. People pleasers never did.

It took forever, but we finally made it to my bedroom door. The moment I pushed it open, I ran to my bed, sighing in relief as I crashed onto it. God, I missed you, I thought, hugging my pillow. This bed was the love of my life.

I buried myself in the covers, my head sinking into my pillows, eyes fluttering shut—

And then, a sudden, blinding light cut through the darkness.

Me: “Could you shut the fucking lights?!”

No response.

Me: “Nerd!”

Still nothing.

Groaning, I lifted my head, squinting against the brightness. Aaron stood frozen at the entrance of my room, mouth slightly open, eyes wide as he stared around like he’d just walked into heaven itself.

Me: “What?!”

He finally spoke, voice full of disbelief.

Aaron: “Your room is the size of my entire house.”

I stared at him. That’s what he’s freaking out about?

Me: “Yeah, no shit, Aaron. I’m rich. You’re poor. It’s that simple.”

And with that, I rolled over, dismissing him.

I heard him sigh, followed by the sound of the door opening.

Me: “Hey! There are guest rooms. Pick one. And there’s food in the kitchen—I don’t want you dying of hunger in my house.”

The door shut behind him, and a slow smile crept onto my face.

Having someone to tease all the time didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

Maybe this marriage wasn’t going to be so terrible after all.

Aaron’s POV

I walked down the grand staircase, pausing in the middle of the living room just to take it all in.

The house was magnificent. Unreal, even.

I had always known Nessa was rich, but standing here, surrounded by marble floors and crystal chandeliers, I realized I had severely underestimated just how much money her family had.

For a moment, I let myself imagine it—what it would be like to be born into this kind of wealth. To never wake up worrying about money. To have expensive clothes without ever setting foot in a thrift shop. To never know what it was like to go without.

But that wasn’t my reality.

There were only two kinds of people in this world: The rich and the poor.

And the sad truth? Once you were born into the latter, it was damn near impossible to migrate.

I sighed, shaking off the thought as I wandered toward a door near the staircase. A chef sticker was plastered on it, so I assumed—correctly—it was the kitchen.

Holy shit.

The kitchen was enormous. Rows of gas cookers, countertops stacked with high-end appliances, cabinets filled with expensive utensils—some of which I didn’t even recognize. My stomach growled at the scent of food lingering in the air, and I hesitated only for a second before lifting the lids off the pots.

Fried chicken.

Chicken stew.

White rice.

My stomach growled louder.

I grabbed a plate and hesitated, eyeing the fried chicken. A small voice in my head whispered, They’re so rich, Aaron. I doubt they’d notice a chicken or two missing.

…Fair point.

I grabbed two.

The moment I sat down, I devoured the food. I could have cried. My stomach practically sang in gratitude.

Once I was finished, I washed the plate, set it neatly back in the rack, and made my way back to the living room. I collapsed onto the soft couch, sighing in content.

A text from Sam lit up my phone screen:

"Hope wifey got home safe."

I rolled my eyes, tossed my phone onto the side table, and closed my eyes.

I was out in seconds.

The next thing I knew, someone was shaking my shoulder.

I blinked blearily, my vision blurry as I tried to focus. The person standing above me slowly came into view—

And my whole body tensed.

Mr. Marshal Stevens.

With a huge smile on his face.

I shot up instantly, heart hammering.

Me: “Uh… good morning, Mr. Marshal!”

I expected him to look intimidating, but instead, his smile widened into something almost… affectionate?

Marshal: “Oh, son, just call me father-in-law.”

…Shit.