LOGIN**Synopsis – Theirs to Ruin** Eliana has always known the house she lives in is dangerous. Not because of the locked doors or the quiet hallways, but because of the two men who share it with her. Josh, her stepbrother, is twenty-four and already obsessed. He watches her like he owns every breath she takes. When he finally corners her, he doesn’t ask. He takes—hard, rough, and without mercy—leaving bruises and filthy words that make her body betray her even while her mind screams that this is wrong. Richard, her stepfather, is older, quieter, and just as dangerous. He doesn’t need to raise his voice. One look is enough to make her pulse race. He waits. He observes. And when he decides it’s his turn, he claims her with the same ruthless control, only colder, more deliberate. Sarah, her mother, sleeps just down the hall, completely unaware that her daughter is being ruined by both the son and the husband under their own roof. Eliana tells herself she hates it. She tells herself she should stop it. But every time Josh pins her down and every time Richard’s hands close around her throat, the truth becomes harder to deny: She doesn’t want to be saved. She wants to be ruined. By both of them.
View MoreThe days after the conversation in Richard’s office felt heavier.I tried to avoid him. It didn’t work.Every time I walked into a room he was already there, or he appeared a minute later. His eyes found me too quickly. They stayed too long. At breakfast he asked about my sleep. In the hallway he asked about my classes. In the living room he asked if I wanted tea. Normal questions. Harmless. But the way he looked at me while he asked them made my skin feel too tight.I started answering in short sentences and escaping upstairs as soon as I could.Josh noticed, of course. He found it funny. One night he pinned me against my bedroom door and whispered, “Daddy’s watching you now,” while his fingers worked between my legs until I came with his name trapped behind my teeth. Then he left me trembling and went back to his own room like nothing had happened.I hated how much I still wanted him.I hated even more that Richard’s attention was starting to feel just as dangerous.---That night I
I almost made it to the stairs.Richard’s voice stopped me in the hallway.“Eliana. Come here for a minute.”He was standing in the doorway of his office, one shoulder leaning against the frame. The late afternoon light coming through the blinds cut across half his face. He had taken off his jacket at some point. His white shirt was open at the collar, sleeves rolled to the elbows. He looked calm. He always looked calm. That was what made it worse.I walked over, keeping my expression neutral. “Yeah?”He didn’t move aside to let me in. He just studied me for a moment, then stepped back and gestured toward one of the chairs in front of his desk.“Sit.”My stomach tightened, but I did as he said. The leather chair felt cold through my leggings. Richard closed the door with a soft click and walked around to his side of the desk. He didn’t sit. He remained standing, looking down at me.“You’ve been quiet the last few days,” he said.“I’ve been busy with school.”“Have you?”The question w
I spent the rest of the day trying not to think about the kitchen.It didn’t work.Every time I sat down I felt the ghost of his hand between my legs. Every time I swallowed I felt the place where his mouth had been on my neck. I changed into a different hoodie. I put music on. I tried to study. Nothing helped.By the time the house went quiet that night, my body was still wound tight.Richard’s office light stayed on until almost midnight. When it finally clicked off, I heard his footsteps go down the hall to the master bedroom. The house settled. Pipes ticked. Somewhere outside a car passed and then silence returned.I told myself I would lock the door.I didn’t.A little after one, it opened.Josh stepped inside and closed it behind him without a sound. He was still in the black sweatpants from earlier, still shirtless. The only light came from the streetlamp outside my window, painting one side of his face silver and leaving the rest in shadow. His gray eyes found me immediately.
I didn’t hear him come in.I was standing at the counter, pouring leftover coffee into a mug, still half-asleep in one of Josh’s old hoodies that I pretended I hadn’t stolen. The house was quiet. Sarah had left early for a weekend trip with her friends. Richard was locked in his office on a call. For once, it felt like the walls weren’t listening.Then a warm body bumped into my back.“Jesus—” I turned, nearly spilling the coffee.Josh stood right there, close enough that I could smell the soap on his skin. He was 6'1", all lean muscle and easy arrogance, wearing only black sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His chest was solid, abs sharply cut, skin warm-toned and lightly tanned. A few water droplets still clung to his collarbones from a recent shower. His dark brown hair—almost black in this light—was damp and messy, falling over his forehead in loose waves. The sides were cut shorter, clean. A thin pale scar cut through his left eyebrow, and the usual shadow of stubble already l






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