Ifrown at Carolyn’s turned back as she cooks dinner. The aroma of lobster and garlic fills the kitchen, souring my mood further. I prefer when Minnie cooks, not only because she’s a damned good cook but also because she acknowledges my shellfish allergy and avoids using ingredients that will send me to the hospital. I keep an EpiPen in the medicine cabinet, but I’d prefer not to use it.
I lower my gaze to my phone as I sit at the table, passing time before I sneak to the home gym. It’s been ten minutes andthere’s no sign of Ryder. There’s a good chance he’s already well into his workout and won’t notice me peeping.
New notifications flood my Instagram feed. Some commenters compliment the suggestive picture I shared earlier today, while others feel the need to judge me and nitpick my body.
I shudder at the thought of my dad looking at all the faceless pictures and videos I post on social media. The last thing I need is for my father or my fiancé to find out what I do. They’d likely shit a brick. I only show my face on OnlyFans, and that’s just because I don’t want to put in the extra work to hide my identity. Wearing a mask or worrying about camera angles during an entire stream is too much for me.
My phone chimes with a new text message, sucking away what little joy I had left in me.
Justin
Evening, wife.
I’m taking you out for brunch tomorrow. Please be ready for me at 11, and wear something nice.
I glare at the message.
I can’t stand when he calls me his wife. We aren’t married yet, and if my escape plan works, we never will be.
I wish I could send a picture of me flipping him off, but Dad would hear about it and scold me. He’d tell me how it wasn’t ladylike, then send me to Madam Joan for new lessons. The old hag would make it her mission to find petty reasons to swat me with her ruler.
You know what?
It may be worth it.
I tap the camera icon and angle it at the perfect spot as I snap a selfie with my middle finger held up. I send the picture to Justin and wait for the message bubbles to appear. Not even ten seconds later, they pop onto the screen as he types out his response.
How lovely. Where’s your ring?
Oh. I must’ve lost it. Oops.
That was a 10k ring, and you lost it . . .?
Sounds like a you problem.
We’ll discuss this tomorrow.
I roll my eyes, but my heart races as anxiety floods my system. Justin is close to my father, and he’ll fill Dad in on what I did. Regardless, I don’t regret sending the picture and getting snippy. The man is a jerk, through and through.
Dress shoes clack on the wooden floors right before my father walks into the kitchen with a scowl. He ignores me as he approaches Carolyn and lands a small kiss on her cheek, his hand pressed to her lower back.
“Smells good,” he says.
Carolyn turns her head with a wide smile. “Thank you, darling. I’ve been craving lobster these last few weeks.”
Dad nods and kisses her on the lips. It starts soft but quickly turns into a full-on make-out session.
Well, this is my sign to get the hell out of here so I don’t witness my father ripping my stepmother’s clothes off and blowing her back out. I would need therapy if I had to see that. Besides, this is a great moment for me to sneak to the gym room and watch Ryder. Maybe even try to talk to him. About what, I don’t know.
I cringe and stand as Dad kisses Carolyn’s jaw and whispers something into her ear. She brightens at whatever he says. Probably something dirty. I rush across the large kitchen, and as soon as I pass through the entryway into the living room, Carolyn calls my name.
“Madison? Can you get Ryder’s dirty clothes from his room? Strip his bed too. I want my boy to have clean clothes and fresh linen while he’s here.”
I grimace, then recover as her words sink in. “Ryder is staying here?”
“Your father just let me know he’ll be here for a while.” Carolyn peeks at me from over her shoulder, a beaming smile brightening her features and making her look a few years younger.
Meanwhile, Dad looks seconds away from exploding in a fit of rage.
