Stepmummy, Can We Keep This Secret?

CHAPTER ONE

“Hi, Miss Leonard. What a small world. Who would’ve thought my own stepmother was once my teacher?”  

The voice chilled her bones. Bambi knew that voice. How could she ever forget the voice of her stalker and her nightmare?

FLASHBACK

“I can’t wait to finally meet your son,” I whispered into the ear of my husband-to-be, rubbing his arm.  

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. “You’ll love him.”

A lot had changed in the past nine months. After my ex-husband’s death, I never imagined I would be in the hands of another man only three months later, or that we would be getting married in six. It wasn’t as though he had swept me off my feet and made me forget my late husband overnight. But when a rich billionaire walks up to you, says he likes you, proposes three months later, and your own mother is constantly whispering that she will kill herself if you refuse, there really isn’t much of a choice left. You simply accept.

Donovan North was the CEO of Zenith Motors. We had met at an exhibition. Handsome, tall, dark hair with a few streaks of white slicked neatly back. He wasn’t bad for a fifty-two-year-old man. He was certainly not someone I couldn’t manage if it meant getting my mother off my back.

“Finally, the universe has blessed you and given you a wealthy partner. Now do not fuck this up,” she had told me. So there was no way I was going to admit that I didn’t really want to hop from one marriage straight into another.

“Sweetheart, this is your third glass of wine. I think you need to stop drinking.”

I forced a smile at Donovan and set the glass down.

Mom’s laugh echoed across the table. Beck was telling her something, and she was laughing as though her life depended on it. She had never laughed like that with Beck, not after he went bankrupt so soon after they married.

“Dad,” a voice called.  

When I raised my head, I froze in place.

Everything around me kept moving, but I did not. I could hear their voices, yet they sounded muffled, as if my world had completely shut out.

“Son,” Donovan acknowledged in a soft tone. “What took you so long?”

“Traffic,” he murmured as he came to settle right in front of me, beside Beckett.

Donovan turned to me, not noticing my parted lips or how completely dumbstruck I was.

“Sweetheart, meet my son…”

Storm North. Even if I were lying in the grave and he came closer, my soul would find its way back into my body and I would rise from the dead.

Three years of being his teacher. Seven years of traumatic stalking.

“Storm, she is your new stepmother.”

His gaze slid to me, but I kept mine away, my body already trembling.

The last time I had encountered him was two years ago. He had sneaked into my house as usual, pressed a kiss to my cheek while I was fast asleep, and left a lilac—my favourite flower—by my bedside. I had not seen him since.

“Hi. Nice to meet you, Bambi.”

I ignored him, swallowing the huge lump that had settled in my throat the moment I set eyes on him.

“Donovan, I must say, you have a very good-looking son.”

I couldn’t look. No—I shouldn’t look.

“Yes. They say he got the looks from me.”

My mom laughed. “No doubt.” She faced him. “Young man, how old are you?”

From the corner of my eye I saw him bite into his steak. “I’m twenty-six.”

“Are you still in college?”

“No, of course not. I graduated. I’m currently doing an internship at my father’s company.”

He was sweet, just as I remembered him before the seven years of stalking began. He answered every question my mom and stepdad asked and interacted beautifully with them. On the way home my mother even complimented him, calling him a respectful, sweet boy.

But that is not how I remembered him. I remembered him as the man who sneaked into my house to tear my husband’s parts out of the marriage photos I shared with my late husband, who controlled my phone, rejected men on my behalf in my dms, collected my underwear, and stared at me while I slept.

My body shook the entire time he was there, but thankfully he did not approach me.

Given that I was about to marry his father, it was inevitable we would meet more often. I couldn’t bear that. I couldn’t even look him in the eyes. Maybe I should halt the wedding—or cancel it for now. I could not keep meeting my stalker.

I turned to my mom in the back seat of the cab. “Uhm, Mom—”

“Bambi, do you know what Donovan promised me after you two get married?” She interrupted, grinning from ear to ear.

I forced a smile. “An apartment in Cinnamon Villa! My goodness, this feels like a dream. Now that bitch Lily will stop throwing it in my face that she has a place there. I’ll make sure I get a floor way above hers.”

Cinnamon Villa was the most luxurious apartment complex in the city, so of course my mother coveted a spot there.

“It’s really the universe rewarding me for all the times I’ve suffered in this marriage.” She turned and grabbed my wrist. “Now it’s left to you not to ruin this. Be a good wife to Donovan. On no account should you make him the slightest bit angry. Be useful for once in your life. Do you understand me?”

I forced a nod.

Well, there went my option to halt the wedding.

PRESENT

I had been a little bit hopeful when I didn’t see him at the engagement dinner and even during the wedding. “Maybe he had disappeared just like he did two years ago,” I told myself.

But the joke was on me, because here he was, standing on the carpet of my matrimonial bedroom on my wedding night.

His once golden-brown hair that used to fall over his eyes was now in a buzz cut, highlighting his long lashes and oval-shaped face. His honey-brown eyes were the sharpest thing in the room. He wore a black T-shirt that hugged his build and dark pants, a cross necklace dangling from his neck.

I stayed frozen on the floor as he stepped closer, engulfing my space with his tobacco-and-vanilla scent. He stopped just a few metres away, staring deeply into my eyes.

“How have you been?” he asked, both of his hands in his pockets.

“Good,” I managed. “And you?”

He didn’t answer. He just kept staring, as if searching for something in my face.

“Uhm, please can you pretend like we don’t know each other to Donovan? That way, it’d be less awkward.”

He stared much longer, the eerie silence of the room chilling my bones, and then he let out a soft “Okay.”

I heaved a sigh of relief when he turned around to leave. I couldn’t trust him yet. There was no way he could have been a changed person in two years.

I looked to the door and he was still hanging around, staring deeply at me as if plotting something sinister.

I was scared.