My Stepmother's Secret Affair

Name: My Stepmother's Secret Affair
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

Miss Allyy

Romance | Ongoing

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She married my father. But she wanted me. When my father brought home his new wife-a woman half his age with blood-red lips and secrets in her eyes-I knew she was dangerous. What I didn't expect was the way she looked at me. Touched me. Claimed me. What started as a mistake turned into a wildfire-one she controlled with whispers and silk sheets. Now, I'm caught between loyalty to the man who raised me... and the woman who makes me forget everything else. But she's not just playing games in bed. She's hiding something. And when the truth comes out, I won't just lose her. I might destroy my entire family.

Family Suspense Modern Betrayal Love triangle Badboy Billionaires Forbidden love

Chapter 5 Her Final Move

The day before yesterday 10:29

Chapter 1 My Stepmother

owned him.

My father.

But her eyes weren't on him.

They were on me.

I didn't know her name yet. Just that she was too young to be his wife, and too bold to be afraid of walking into a house where every picture frame still held my dead mother's smile.

"You must be Nathan," she said. Her voice was liquid velvet, low and sultry, as she stopped in front of me. "Your father talks about you... often."

I stood from the leather couch, six feet of suspicion and tight self-control. "Funny. He never mentioned you."

She smiled like that pleased her.

Her perfume hit me first. Jasmine and sin. It clouded the air between us, and for a second, I forgot to hate her.

She extended a manicured hand. "I'm Celeste. Your new stepmother."

I didn't shake her hand. "How old are you?"

Her lips twitched. "Old enough to know better. Young enough not to care."

My father chose that moment to enter-beaming, unaware, proud. "Nate! There you are. Isn't she beautiful?"

"She's something," I muttered.

He clapped a hand on my shoulder like this was a family reunion instead of a goddamn ambush. "Celeste and I got married in Italy last week. It was all very... spontaneous."

I stared at him. At her. At the diamond on her hand that could blind a man.

And then I laughed. A dry, bitter sound. "You replaced Mom with a walking headline."

"Nathan," he said, warning creeping into his voice.

Celeste just smiled. Like she wanted me to keep going.

That was the beginning.

She moved in that night.

My house. My dead mother's kitchen. Her heels echoing off marble floors like they belonged here.

By the third day, she'd redecorated the sitting room.

By the fifth, she was calling me sweetheart in front of the housekeeper.

And on the seventh night, I caught her watching me.

Not like a stepmother. Not like a friend.

Like a woman starving.

It was late. I was in the kitchen, shirtless, fresh from a workout. The sweat still clung to my skin as I reached into the fridge for water. I turned-and she was there.

Silk robe. Bare feet. Nothing underneath.

"Couldn't sleep?" I asked, not bothering to hide the edge in my voice.

She didn't answer. Just stepped closer, eyes on my chest like she'd been waiting for this.

"Nathan..." she murmured, voice thick. "You look just like him. But better."

I should've walked away. Slammed the fridge, stormed upstairs, called her a whore under my breath and buried myself in ice water.

Instead, I stood there-watching her watching me. Feeling heat in places that should've been off-limits.

"You're drunk," I said.

She took another step. Close enough to touch.

"Maybe." She tilted her head. "Maybe I'm just curious."

Her fingers brushed my abs.

And I lost my mind.

I grabbed her wrist. "What the hell are you doing?"