Married to my Fiancé Uncle

ELENA POV

Marcus? I'm home early!"

I nudged the front door shut with my hip, both arms wrapped around the small cake box.

I'd spent the entire afternoon picking up a sample tasting for the engagement party.

Two slices of chocolate caramel with gold frosting enough for us to try tonight and decide the final flavor.

Our engagement party was in one week. One week until everyone knew we'd decided to be with each other.

I wanted tonight to be perfect, just a quiet dinner for the two of us and maybe somewhere in between I'd be able to say that little speech I'd practiced in the car about how I couldn't wait to be his wife.

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

"Marcus?" I called again, kicking off my flats by the stairs. He must be upstairs probably playing a game or sleeping.

I climbed halfway up the stairs and noticed a red stiletto on the third step.

Then a black lace bra draped over the railing and Marcus's navy button-down was crumpled on the landing like a discarded rag.

My stomach tightened at the sight maybe he got home early and started laundry? But the bra wasn't mine. I didn't own anything that pretty.

I stepped over the clothes and kept climbing.

Then I heard a low, breathy moan. Then another.

"Ahh… yes, baby, just like that."

My steps slowed and a strange unease prickled my skin.

That was definitely Sophia, no mistake I would recognize her voice even in my sleep but what would she be here without letting me know?

She'd told me this morning she had a late shift at the gallery but the deeper groan that followed sent a cold flicker through my stomach.

I reached the landing and followed the sounds to our bedroom. The door was ajar and the voices grew clearer, each word sinking deeper like knives.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Marcus muttered, "So much tighter than her."

Sophia's giggle cut through me "Better than that chubby fiancée of yours, right? Say it."

"Yeah," he grunted. "Way better. She's just an obligation. You're the one I actually want."

I pushed the door open wider and stood in the doorway frozen.

And I couldn't believe what I saw and for a moment I couldn't breathe.

Marcus was behind Sophia on our bed.

Her back tight against him, one leg bent at the knee while he thrust into her from behind, one hand squeezing her breast hard, the other rubbing between her legs fast and rough.

They were half-dressed, flushed and sweaty, skin slapping against skin in a sickening rhythm.

I stood there frozen and they were too lost in their ecstasy to notice me

And then it hit me all those nights I'd cried on Marcus's shoulder, telling him how Sophia looked at me

How she made little comments about my weight, my hair, my bakery. "You're being too sensitive," he'd said, every single time. "She's just jealous. Ignore her."

And I believed him. I actually believed him.

Were they mocking me together? Was he reporting back to her after I complained to him? Did they laugh about how pathetic I was, how needy, how easy to fool?

Then Sophia's lazy gaze drifted toward the doorway. Her eyes landed on me but she didn't stop. Instead, she gave me a cruel smile as she threw her head back and moaned louder making Marcus increase his pace.

"Oh," she said, her voice light and unbothered. "It's you."

Then she turned away from me her hands reached for Marcus's hands in between her legs urging him to move faster.

The cake box slipped from my fingers.

It hit the hardwood with a wet smack. Chocolate and caramel splattered everywhere.

Neither Marcus nor Sophia looked up. They kept moving, kept moaning, as if nothing had happened.

Like I was less than nothing. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room uninterrupted.

I stood there, watching my fiancé fuck my sister, and neither of them acknowledged me.

Then Sophia giggled again. "Told you she'd wander up here eventually."

Marcus's head finally snapped toward me and his eyes went wide.

He yanked out of Sophia so fast he nearly tumbled off the bed, scrambling desperately for the sheet.

"Ellie—shit—this isn't—" He ran a hand through his hair, his chest still heaving. "Look, I'm sorry. I never meant for you to see this. Okay? I'm so sorry."

I stared at him. The man I loved, naked and sweating, apologizing while my sister was on my bed.

"Sorry?" My voice came out hollow. "You're sorry?" I choked, the words getting stuck in my throat. "Wow. Never meant for me to see you with my sister? But meant to keep fucking her right?"

My chest tightened and I couldn't breathe.

I gasped, hand flying to my throat. "How... how could you..."

Marcus stepped toward me, concern flickering across his face. "Ellie, hey…" He reached for my shoulders. "Just breathe. Come here."

Trying to help me like he always did when I was about to have a panic attack.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed, shoving him back with both hands. "Don't you ever touch me! You disgust me!"

Something in his face changed and concern vanished.

His jaw tightened and his eyes went cold.

"Get out," I said, my voice shaking. "Both of you. Get out of my house."

Sophia scoffed, "You're being dramatic. It was one night. Well…." She smiled, "More than one night. But still grow up Elena."

Marcus didn't move. Instead, he pulled on his pants slowly. When he looked up the panic was gone replaced by something ugly.

"You know what, Ellie? I'm not sorry. Not really."

"What?"

"You heard me." He stood up, buttoning his fly. "I'm tired. I'm so goddamn tired of tiptoeing around you. For months. Months."

My breath caught. "Marcus…"

"Every day it's something," he said, his voice rising. " 'Do you still love me? Are you sure? Did I do something wrong?' Always needing reassurance. Always asking if everything's okay. I can't breathe around you, Ellie. You're exhausting. You suffocate me."

Sophia smirked from the bed, tying her robe. "Told you."

"Shut up, Sophia," I whispered but my eyes stayed on Marcus and my hands were shaking.

"This engagement?" He crossed his arms. "It was never about you. My uncle asked me to do it as a favor. To keep peace between the families. That's it."

The words didn't make sense. "What?"