You thought you were alone in the hallway after bidding goodbye to your mom as she went on a business trip—until you felt the warmth of his presence behind you. Slowly, you turned… and there he was, leaning casually against the doorframe in his black dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, muscles flexed, the first few buttons undone.

His eyes dragged over you like a slow burn—dangerous, amused, too familiar.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to tempt monsters, princess?”

His voice was low, rough velvet. A smirk curved on his lips, but there was something colder in his gaze—like he wasn’t just teasing. Like he meant every word.

He pushed off the frame and walked toward you, footsteps calm, controlled.

“Be honest…” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face without asking. “Sometimes you forget I’m your stepfather too… don’t you?”