Lahat ng Kabanata ng Desired By My StepDad and His Son: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

Rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, turning the city into a blurred watercolor of grey and neon. Inside, the apartment was silent, save for the distant, rhythmic thumping of bass from Tessa’s room. She was wearing her noise-canceling headphones, deep in a gaming marathon with her friends, completely oblivious to the world around her.I was in the library, pretending to read a book on architecture, but my eyes were fixed on the door. Charles had been in his home office for two hours. The tension had been building since breakfast, a silent conversation of glances and lingering touches that had left me aching.When the door finally opened, he didn't say a word. He walked straight toward me, his presence filling the room. He had discarded his tie, the top three buttons of his shirt open, exposing the salt-and-pepper hair of his chest."She's still playing?" he asked, his voice a low rumble."She's on her third match," I whispered, closing the book. "She can'

The next morning, the city was shrouded in a grey, drizzling mist that blurred the edges of the skyscrapers. Rhema sat at the breakfast table, pushing a piece of avocado toast around her plate. Her body still felt heavy, a lingering warmth between her thighs that made every movement a reminder of the previous night."You're very quiet this morning, sweetheart," Sylia said, pouring herself a second cup of coffee. She looked radiant in a cream-colored power suit, her eyes bright with a mix of professional anxiety and genuine excitement."Just tired," Rhema lied, glancing up at her mother. "Late night studying.""I wish I had your stamina," Sylia laughed, a light, airy sound. "I barely slept. I can't believe Damien is considering me for the Senior VP position. If this goes through, it changes everything for us."Rhema felt a sharp prick of guilt, but it was quickly eclipsed by a surge of illicit thrill. "He seems to think very highly of you.""He's a visionary," Sylia sighed, leaning bac

The climax of their secret war came on the night of the corporate gala. The ballroom was a sea of sequins, tuxedos, and expensive perfume. Sylia was in her element, gliding through the crowd, networking with the city's elite.Rhema wore a dress of midnight blue silk that left her back entirely bare. She felt Damien’s eyes on her from across the room the moment she entered."You look stunning, Rhema," Sylia said, beaming with pride. "Everyone is asking who the beautiful young woman on my arm is.""Thanks, Mom," Rhema replied, her gaze drifting to Damien.He was standing by the bar, a glass of scotch in his hand. He didn't smile. He didn't wave. He simply nodded toward the balcony.The gala continued for hours—speeches, toasts, and laughter. Every time Sylia was pulled into a conversation, Rhema found herself drifting closer to the edge of the room.Finally, during the main course, Sylia was cornered by the CEO of a rival firm."I'll be just a moment, honey," Sylia told Rhema. "Go get s

Chapter 1 Marcus sat on the edge of his king-sized bed, the charcoal sheets crisp against his skin. He had just finished a long shift at the firm, his tie loosened and his dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He stared at the closed door, listening to the ragged breaths of his step-daughter.A soft, hesitant knock sounded. The door creaked open, and Chloe stood there, a silhouette of misery. Her mascara had leaked in dark, jagged rivers down her pale cheeks. She wore an oversized vintage t-shirt that swallowed her frame, her eyes swollen and red."Chloe?"She didn't answer. She simply collapsed forward, her body folding as she launched herself into his arms. She hit his chest with a force that knocked the air from his lungs, her fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, clutching him as if he were the only solid thing left in a dissolving world.Marcus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her small, shaking form onto his lap. He rested his chin atop her head, the scent of he

The morning light filtered through the heavy charcoal curtains, casting the room in a dim, muted gray. Marcus woke first, the weight of Chloe’s head on his chest a warm, grounding presence. He didn't move, fearing that any shift would shatter the fragile peace of the moment. He watched the slow rise and fall of her shoulders, her skin glowing like polished pearl in the half-light.Chloe stirred, a small, sleepy moan escaping her lips. She shifted, her leg sliding over his, and she blinked up at him, her eyes clearing as the memories of the previous night rushed back. A slow, shy smile spread across her face."Good morning," she whispered, her voice raspy and thick with sleep."Morning," Marcus replied, his voice a low rumble. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead. "How do you feel?""Heavy," she murmured, snuggling closer. "But in a good way. Like I'm finally anchored to something.""You're not dreaming, Chloe. This is real.""I know it's real. I can still feel you i