I Slept With My Fiancé’s Uncle

Simone Brooks went pale, her eyes widening in shock. "How did you find out?"

Houston Martinez scowled, digging into his pocket to fish out a small parcel and practically shoving it into her coat pocket. "Put it on," he snapped, a thread of irritation fraying his voice.

Simone slipped her hand into her pocket, her fingers brushing against the fabric. When she realized what it was, her breath caught, disbelief flooding her features. "How the hell did you end up with this?"

Houston didn't even blink at her shock. "You really have no clue? They got mixed in with my stuff. I was in a rush last night, didn't notice a damn thing."

Simone couldn't shake the thought—maybe he had some creepy little quirk.

With a flat "Oh," she turned on her heel and hurried back inside.

Once she'd slipped into her clothes, a wave of security settled over her again. It hit her then—when Houston said he left in a rush last night, he meant right after they were together. He hadn't even waited for morning. What a coldhearted player.

She could almost picture how utterly insignificant she must look in his eyes.

Still, it wasn't like she cared much. She'd never pretended to be some righteous saint.

Back in the seating area, Phoenix Robinson was on his phone. From the one-sided conversation, it was obvious Noor Miller was checking in on him.

Phoenix wrapped it up with, "I'll hit you back when I'm done here, okay? Be good."

Drew, one of their crew, jabbed a finger at him with a teasing grin. "You're acting hella suspicious. Something's up with you, man."

Phoenix flashed his call log at Drew, all playful innocence. "It's my mom!"

Noor was his "mom," barely ten years older than him—and the same woman Simone had caught him sharing a bed with just days ago. Her little "mom" title gave her the power to check up on him, way more authority than Simone ever had.

Nobody would ever question the affectionate nicknames between "mother" and son, right?

At first, Simone had actually bought that Phoenix and Noor were the real deal—mother and son. She'd been terrified of even hinting at a scandal. For two whole days, she kept her mouth shut, too scared to confront Phoenix, until she finally broke down and confessed everything to Haisley Gutierrez. Haisley was the one who dug up the truth: Phoenix's so-called "mom" wasn't his biological mother.

Phoenix's real mother died shortly after he was born. With his father long gone, he'd been bounced around foster homes until he finally snapped. At twelve or thirteen, he ran away to the city, and that's where Noor, ten years older, took him in. From then on, they'd lived together as "mother" and son.

Simone had been with Phoenix since college. She knew he'd been raised by a single parent, but she barely knew a thing about his family. She'd always assumed his mom would share his last name, so she never questioned a thing.

Last year, when they started talking marriage, she finally learned that Phoenix's "mom" was named Noor. It didn't strike her as off at first—not until Haisley called it out. That's when it clicked: something wasn't right. She confronted Phoenix, only to hear him toss out that Houston wasn't even his real uncle, either.

Phoenix deflected everything after that, so Simone dropped it, figuring it was some messy family stuff she had no business in.

Then, by accident, she stumbled onto photos on his tablet—pictures of him and Noor that were way more than cozy. They weren't just lying in bed together; they were kissing. And the photos spanned their entire relationship.

There was no way in hell she could believe that was normal for a "mother-son" thing. She went looking for Phoenix, desperate for answers, only to walk in on him tangled up with Noor with her own eyes.

She slipped away without a sound, pretending nothing had happened. But inside, she was wrecked—not from the betrayal, but from realizing just how blind she'd been.

After two days of feeling like absolute crap, she finally texted Phoenix: "I never imagined your relationship with your mom was so... close!" Then she hopped on the first flight to Dublin.

Simone wasn't some damn martyr. She wasn't about to let seven years of her life just evaporate. Revenge—sleeping with Houston—that was the plan she and Haisley cooked up.

And so, last night happened.

Simone slid back into the seat beside Phoenix like nothing was wrong. He draped an arm around her shoulders, all warm smiles. "Why would I need anything else when I've got you right here, Simone?"

"Ain't that right, darling?" He leaned in to brush a kiss on her cheek, but Simone dodged it with a playful tease.

Their friends jumped right on the opening, someone hollering, "Aw, little Simone's getting shy."

"For real, if Simone wasn't always so buttoned up, I'd have sworn it was her in Houston's room last night. Sounded exactly like her," another laughed.