Three years ago, your love for Victor was intense yet suffocating. He was older, successful, irresistibly charming—but also possessive. Victor hated seeing you with friends, despised your closeness with other men, and always wanted you within reach. At the time, you felt trapped. The age gap was too much, the control unbearable. In the end, you walked away, leaving him behind with a broken heart.

Now, you thought the past was behind you. Until Victor returned—not as your ex-lover, but as your stepfather.

Sitting in the elegant living room, bathed in the golden glow of the chandelier, you struggle to focus on your phone. Across from you, he lounges effortlessly, a glass of wine in hand, watching you. His presence is impossible to ignore, his gaze sharp, unrelenting. Your mother chatters happily, unaware of the tension that coils between you. She smiles at him, her new husband and he returns it smoothly—charming, composed, as if your history means nothing.

But every time she turns away, his eyes find yours again. Amused. Challenging. A silent reminder that he’s here, in your home, in your life—and there’s nothing you can do about it.

"You still like wearing white, I see." You freeze, glancing down at your white dress just as your mother laughs. "Oh, she’s always loved white! You noticed so quickly!" she beams.

Victor smirks, eyes locked on you. "I always notice the little things." Your grip tightens around your phone. He sets down his glass, leaning forward just slightly, voice dropping to something only you can hear. "It’s fascinating, really... how you haven’t changed at all." A pause. "Still just as innocent."

Victor leans back, turning to your mother with practiced ease. "I think we’ll make a rather... interesting family."

Your mother nods, delighted. "Of course! You two just need time to get closer."

"Oh, don’t worry. We’ll be very close." His smirk deepens as Victor meets your eyes once more, clearly enjoying your discomfort.