MORNING AFTER REGRET

Tiana

My eyes flew open, and the first thing I registered was the pounding. Sharp throbbing right behind my eyeball. I groaned, lifting a hand to press against my forehead, but froze the second my skin touched the sheets.

Soft. Cool. And completely bare.

I sat up so fast the room spun. My hand flew to my chest, then down, then everywhere. Oh my God. I’m naked. Completely, one-hundred-percent naked. I scrambled backward until my back hit the headboard, yanking the duvet up to my chin like it was armor, eyes darting wildly around the room.

My bedroom. My messy, familiar bedroom. Sunlight streaming through the windows, way too bright, way too eager to remind me I was alive and probably in trouble. Alone. No one else here. No clothes on the floor. No… evidence. Just me, my headache, and a terrifying blank space where my memory of the end of last night should be.

What happened? How did I get here? Did we…? Did he…?

My heart slammed against my ribs, panic rising fast and hot. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, fingers fumbling so bad I almost dropped it. 9:17 AM. Twenty missed calls and twice as many texts from Maya—my best friend and partner in crime.

I called her before I even finished thinking about it. She picked up on the first ring, voice way too loud and cheerful for my current state of existence.

“Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty! Or should I say… Dirty Dancing Beauty?”

“Maya.” My voice came out croaky, rough, sounding like I’d been screaming or moaning or both all night. “Tell me everything. Right now. How did I get home? Did you come in? Did you see anything? Did I do anything?”

“Wow, someone’s jumpy.” She laughed, and I could practically see her grinning through the phone. “Chill, drama queen. I dropped you off right at the gate around three. You were barely standing, flirting with the intercom like it was a hot guy, and telling me you were going to go make your stepdaddy’s wildest dreams come true. I watched you stumble inside, made sure the doors shut, and then I left. That’s it. I haven’t heard from you since. Why? What happened? Did you actually do it? Did you finally jump the billionaire?”

The phone slipped a little in my hand. I stared at the wall, my mind reeling. She left me at the gate. She didn’t come in. So everything after that… everything… was just me and him.

“Maya…” I whispered, horror slowly creeping up my spine as fragments started flashing behind my eyes. The dress. The hallway. Him stepping out of the shadows. The way I touched him. The way I told him every single filthy fantasy I’d been having for weeks. The lap dance. My hand down his pants.

And then… Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

“Maya… did I tell you I told him about the OnlyFans?”

Silence on the line. Then: “You… you what? Told who? Anthonio? You told your stepdaddy you make money posting nudes online? Are you insane, Tiana?!”

I dropped my head into my hands, groaning so loud it hurt my own ears. “I don’t know! I don’t remember! I remember I was saying ‘I even have an ONLY…’ and then Mom was coming down the stairs, and then… nothing. Blank. Did I finish the sentence? Did I tell him? Did I show him? God, I’m so stupid. I’m so, so stupid.”

“Okay, first of all, breathe.” Maya’s voice turned serious. “Second, get dressed, get downstairs, and find out. If you didn’t say it, you play innocent. If you did… well… you play very innocent and hope he thinks it was just drunk talk. Go. Call me the second you know anything.”

I hung up and stared at the screen for a long second. Then I dragged myself out of bed, rushing to the bathroom to scrub my face, brush my teeth until my gums bled, and pull on the most conservative clothes I owned…oversized sweater, loose jeans, hair pulled back into a tight, boring bun. I looked like a nun. A very hungover, terrified nun.

Okay, Tiana. Just go down. Get coffee. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t say a word. Pretend last night never happened. Easy.

It was not easy.

The second I stepped into the dining room, I felt it.

He was there.

Sitting at the head of the long mahogany table, newspaper spread out in front of him, coffee cup in hand, looking exactly like he always did. Perfect. Immaculate. Expensive. Dark suit, crisp white shirt, hair combed back perfectly, no sign that just hours ago I had been straddling his lap with my dress around my waist and my hand down his pants.

But the second he lifted his eyes and locked onto mine… my knees almost gave out.

His gaze was freezing. Ice cold. Harder than I’d ever seen it. No warmth. No amusement. No hint of the man who had groaned my name or let me touch him or lied so smoothly to my mother’s face. Just pure, unreadable stone.

And worse… every single memory came flooding back all at once. Like a dam breaking.

I remembered him pulling me behind the couch. The way he held my mother, telling her my body made him hard. The way he pulled me out afterward, close enough to kiss. And then… oh God.

I remembered saying it. Right before everything went black. Right before I asked about his lips. I had looked him dead in the eye, drunk out of my mind, proud and stupid, and finished that sentence loud and clear.

“I even have an OnlyFans account. I post pictures. Dirty ones. And I bet you’ve already looked for it, haven’t you, Daddy?”

I stopped dead in the middle of the room. My stomach dropped straight through the floor. I told him. I actually told him. I told the richest, most powerful, most controlling man I know that I sell explicit content online.

“Good morning.”

His voice cut through the silence. Short. Cold as the grave. He didn’t smile. Didn’t nod. Just took a sip of his coffee, eyes never leaving my face.

“Morning.” My voice squeaked. I walked fast to the far end of the table, pulling out a chair and sitting down as far away from him as physically possible, eyes glued strictly to the toast rack. Anywhere but him.

Do not look at him. Do not look at his hands. Do not remember exactly what those hands were doing on your hips last night.

“Headache?” He asked. Calm and casual. Too casual.

“Little bit.” I grabbed a piece of toast, hands shaking so bad I almost dropped it. “Late night. Too much wine. You know how it is.”

“Do I?”

The question hung in the air, I risked a tiny glance up. He was watching me over the top of the newspaper, scanning every inch of me like he was cataloging every mistake I’d ever made.

“Where was I last night, anyway?” I asked, trying to sound casual, trying to sound like a girl who didn’t remember giving her stepfather a striptease in his own hallway. “I… I don’t really recall getting up here. Did I make it to my room okay?”

He lowered the paper slowly. Folded it neatly. Set it aside. Then he leaned back in his chair, and just looked at me. That silence that made me want to crawl under the table and die.

“You made it to your room.” He said finally. Tone flat. Unemotional. “Barely. I had to carry you. You couldn’t walk straight. Couldn’t speak straight. Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

My face went up in flames. I looked down at my plate so fast I almost gave myself whiplash.

Don’t ask. Do not ask what else I did.

“Oh.” I mumbled. “Right. Well… sorry about that. Must have been the alcohol. I get… affectionate when I drink. You know how it is.”

“Do I?” He repeated. His voice dropped lower, losing that fake calm edge. “I learned a lot about you last night, Tiana. Things I didn’t ask to know. Things you were very eager to tell me. And show me.”

My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I was sure he could hear it from across the table. Here it comes.

He’s going to fire me. Kick me out. Tell my mom. Ruin my life.

“I…” I started, voice small, eyes still fixed on my plate. “I was drunk. I didn’t mean any of it. Just… nonsense. Rambling. You know how it is.”

“No.” He said. Final. “I don’t.”

He stood up then, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape of wood on wood. He walked around the table, stopping right next to my chair. He loomed over me, huge and imposing, the scent of him…cedar, power, everything forbidden, washing over me.

I stayed frozen, staring at my knees, too scared to look up, too scared to breathe.

He leaned down. Close. Right next to my ear. “You asked me earlier… if I knew where you were, what you were doing, how you acted.” He whispered, every word sharp as a knife. “And let me answer you plainly.”

He paused. I held my breath.

“Last night… someone acted like a complete slut.”