IN LOVE WITH MY STEPFATHER IN LAW

Chapter 1: The Wedding Night

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The pearls on my neck felt heavier than they should have.

Maybe it was the weight of the vows I'd just taken-or maybe it was the way his eyes followed me from across the ballroom. Cold. Unapologetic. Calculated.

Not my husband's.

His.

Christopher D'Amelio.

My stepfather-in-law.

"Smile, Ivana," Ethan whispered beside me, his hand gently grazing the small of my back. "You're my wife now. You should be glowing."

I smiled for the camera. For the guests. For the illusion of happiness. But every inch of my skin was crawling-not from discomfort with Ethan, but from the pressure of someone else's gaze.

Christopher stood near the bar, alone, untouched by the warmth of champagne and congratulations. Tall, dressed in a charcoal suit that fit too perfectly, and eyes so unreadable they made me forget how to breathe. He hadn't said more than two words to me all evening. He didn't need to. His silence was louder than the violin quartet.

He looked like a man who regretted nothing-except maybe the fact that I was no longer out of bounds.

---

Later that night, after the final guests left and the hotel suite doors closed behind us, I stood at the mirror and peeled off the white lace from my body.

Ethan lay on the bed, scrolling through his phone. "Give me a second, babe," he said. "Just need to handle this deal. You don't mind, do you?"

"No," I whispered.

I didn't mind.

I was used to being invisible.

I sat at the edge of the bed, watching the city lights flicker below. Somewhere, maybe just miles from here, Christopher was probably in a similar suite-drinking in silence, judging me for marrying a man I barely knew.

And for a moment, I wondered...

If I had met him first, what would've changed?

---

Flashback – The First Meeting

Two weeks before the wedding, Ethan took me to the D'Amelio estate. It was like walking into a cathedral of secrets-glass chandeliers, long dark corridors, cold marble floors that echoed too much.

"He's not exactly warm," Ethan warned. "But he's brilliant. Built everything from nothing after his father died."

The door to Christopher's study opened slowly, and there he stood-towering, sharp-jawed, with greying temples and a voice like winter rain.

"So you're the girl," he said, looking me over. "Pretty. But naive."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You have soft eyes," he continued. "Soft eyes don't survive in this family. I hope Ethan warned you."

"Warned me about what?"

He turned away before answering. "About who I am."

---

Back to the Present

Ethan fell asleep with the TV on. I turned it off and walked to the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror-bare, raw, exposed.

Was I really a bride?

Or just a placeholder in a story I didn't write?

My phone buzzed.

Unknown Number.

I hesitated. Then opened the message.

> "Your husband doesn't deserve you. But maybe that's what he wanted-someone he could keep untouched."

My heart dropped.

I didn't have to guess.

I knew exactly who sent it.

And the worst part?

I didn't feel fear.

I felt seen.