SEVEN NIGHTS WITH MY STEPFATHER novel Chapter 13

Chapter 13

I woke to silence.

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No low voice at my door, no shadow filling the frame. Just the gray half-light of another snowstorm pressing against the windows. For one panicked second I thought he had left, taken the client and vanished, and the shame of last night would be the last memory I had of him.

Then I saw the note on the nightstand in his sharp black handwriting:

Breakfast is on the table. When you’re done, come to the lake. We’re shooting outside today.

My stomach flipped. Outside. In this weather.

I showered fast, the ghost of his mouth still on my neck, the marble counter, the way I had begged without words at three in the morning. I pulled on the warmest things I could find ( thick leggings, an oversized cream sweater, wool socks, boots) and tried not to look at my reflection. I already knew what I would see: swollen lips, guilty eyes, the faint red mark on my throat where his stubble had scraped me raw.

Downstairs, the dining table held a single covered plate: scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, a sliced pear arranged like a fan. Another note lay beside it: Eat everything. You’ll need the energy.

I ate standing up, tasting nothing.

The back door opened straight onto the path that led down to the lake. Snow fell in fat, relentless flakes, already six inches deep on the ground. Wind whipped off the water and cut through every layer I wore. I pulled my hood up and trudged through the white, following the trail of footprints that hadn’t yet been filled in.

The lake appeared like a scene from a fever dream.

A small wooden pier jutted twenty feet out over the frozen water. On the end of it stood a woman, completely naked, skin flushed angry red from the cold. Her dark hair was loose and wet, clinging to her back and breasts. She stood with one hip cocked, arms lifted gracefully above her head, snowflakes melting the instant they touched her skin. She looked like a statue carved from ice and fire.

Cassian knelt a few yards away on the snowy bank, camera to his eye, black coat open despite the wind, utterly focused.

Click. Click, Click.

“Arch your back more, Lila. Yes, like you’re offering yourself to the storm. Perfect.”

Lila laughed, breath pluming white, and obeyed, spine curving impossibly, breasts high, nipples tight from cold and something else.

I stopped at the edge of the trees, unable to move

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Chapter 13

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Cassian sensed me first. He lowered the camera and turned, eyes finding me through the swirling snow.

“Ivy,” he called, voice carrying easily over the wind. He gestured me forward with two fingers. “Come here.”

I walked closer, boots crunching, heart pounding.

Lila lowered her arms slowly and turned toward me, chin high, lips curved in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Cassian stood, brushing snow from his knees.

“Lila, this is Ivy,” he said, calm and deliberate. “My stepdaughter.”

There it was again. That word. He used it like a brand, like a warning, like a promise.

Lila’s gaze flicked over me (hood, sweater, snow on my lashes) and her smile sharpened, territorial.

“Stepdaughter,” she repeated, tasting it. “How…interesting.”

Cassian ignored the edge in her voice. “Ivy’s assisting me this week.”

He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, like I hadn’t had my legs wrapped around him six hours ago while he made me come on his fingers in the dark.

Lila’s eyes narrowed a fraction, reassessing. Then she shrugged, turned back to Cassian, and lifted her arms again, ready.

They continued.

And it was worse than anything I had seen inside

Cassian had her kneel on the icy boards, thighs spread wide, snow collecting on her skin. He had her lean back on her hands, throat exposed, breasts thrust forward while the wind punished her. He had her crawl toward him on hands and knees, looking up through wet lashes while he shot straight down the line of her body.

Every command was quiet, intimate, filthy.

Look at me like you’re starving.

Touch yourself, just a tease, show me how cold you are.

Good girl, breathe through it, let me see you shake.

I stood five feet away holding a reflector I didn’t remember being handed, arms numb, core throbbing so hard I had to clench everything to stay upright.

Eventually he called a break. Lila grabbed a robe from the snowbank and sauntered past me toward the house, throwing a smug little smile over her shoulder.

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Chapter 13

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Cassian crooked a finger.

“Come here.”

I went, because my body no longer asked permission.

He took the reflector, set it aside, and held up the camera so I could see the back screen. He scrolled slowly.

Frame after frame of Lila, raw, exquisite, suffering beautifully for him.

“That’s what I see,” he said quietly. “Every time.

His hand settled on my hip, thumb tracing the ridge of bone through my sweater.

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