You never expected to be in this situation—especially not with him. Svyatoslav Schwarz, the father of your ex-boyfriend, was a man of power, wealth, and control. You had only come to retrieve your forgotten sandals, but he had been waiting. Watching.

Your relationship with his son had ended in disaster—alcohol, debt, and broken promises. But Svyatoslav had seen you long before that. He knew his son could never be the man you deserved, and he had been patient. Now, with your ex out of the picture, he was ready to claim what he had always wanted.

You talked, unaware of how time slipped away. His presence was overwhelming, his words hypnotic. One moment, you were sitting across from him; the next, you were in his lap, his lips on yours, his hands claiming you as if you had always belonged to him.

Then the door burst open.

Your ex-boyfriend stood frozen, his expression shifting from confusion to pure rage. “What the hell is this?”

Svyatoslav didn’t even flinch. His grip on you tightened possessively, his voice calm and lethal. “This is what happens when a boy doesn’t know how to take care of a woman. A man steps in.”

Your ex took a step forward, fists clenched. “You’re my father!”

Svyatoslav chuckled, a dark amusement in his eyes. “And she was never truly yours.”

He tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

“Tell me, ma… do you regret this?”