LOGINSeven days until the wedding and the whole world was watching me walk through our brand-new house on live stream. I opened the bedroom door and found my sister’s wet pussy stretched around my fiancé’s thick cock while he fucked her like he had never touched me. Chat exploded. My face was everywhere. By morning I was jobless, labeled the whore who staged a family porn scene, and left with nothing but rage. So I crawled back into his bed with a smile, let him put the ring on my finger again, and started fucking his father every single night until the man who broke me had no choice but to call me Mother or watch me take the house, the name, and every last piece of power he thought he still owned. Two can play. I play for keeps. And I play dirty.
View MoreThe house stayed quiet for most of the afternoon.Owen left around two with some excuse about meeting Wilson and Jackson for drinks. I didn’t ask where Doris had gone. I didn’t care. The engagement ring still sat heavy on my finger while I moved through the rooms like I already owned them. I changed out of the work clothes that no longer meant anything and pulled on a thin white sundress that clung when it got wet. No bra. No panties. Just the dress and the decision that had been burning under my skin since the moment I watched his cock disappear inside my sister.Samuel’s car was in the driveway when I stepped out onto the back patio.I had always known he lived here half the week. Owen’s father. Quiet money. Broad shoulders that still looked strong under the expensive shirts he wore to the office. Dark hair going silver at the temples. The kind of man who didn’t need to raise his voice to make people listen. I used to call him Mr. Hayes out of respect. Tonight I was going to call hi
Sleep never came.I lay on the guest bed with my eyes open and the ceiling spinning every time I blinked. The house stayed quiet after Owen and Doris finished whatever they were doing in our room. No voices. No footsteps. Just the low hum of the air conditioner and the sound of my own breathing that refused to steady. Every time I closed my eyes I saw it again. His cock sliding out of her shiny and thick, the way her pussy clung to him, the wet sound that the phone had caught so clearly. I pressed my face into the pillow and tried to scream without making noise. The fabric muffled it, but the pain still ripped through my chest like someone had reached in and twisted everything soft inside me.My phone kept lighting up on the nightstand. I finally flipped it over around three in the morning. The screen was a wall of notifications. Comments from the live stream that had already been clipped and shared. Messages from numbers I didn’t know. Screenshots of my face frozen in the doorway whi
I was still smiling when I pushed the bedroom door open.The live stream was rolling smooth. Chat was flying. Hearts and fire emojis and a dozen girls in the comments screaming how lucky I was. Seven days until the wedding. Our house. Our future. I had the phone angled just right so they could see the soft gray walls, the big bed we had picked out together, the white sheets still crisp from the package.I talked while I walked. “And this is where we are going to wake up every morning after the wedding. I still can’t believe it’s real.”My voice sounded bright. Happy. Like a girl who had everything.Then the door swung wider and the sound hit me first.Wet. Deep. Rhythmic. Skin slapping skin. A low, filthy moan that I knew better than my own name.Owen’s voice. Rough. Hungry. The same voice that used to whisper he loved me against my neck.I froze in the doorway with the camera still live.Doris was on her back in the middle of our bed, knees pulled high, ankles locked behind his waist












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