My Stepfather, my Ruin
"This... this is wrong," she stuttered, trying not to meet his eyes. "You're my stepfather. Let's forget it ever happened."
"How can I forget it happened, Nicole?" He questioned, gripping her chin. "When the image of you whimpering for more replays in my head every fucking night?"
When one night of desperation turns into Nicole ending up in bed with a nameless stranger, she's almost shocked to death when she moves in with her mother's new husband to see that the nameless stranger is her new stepfather.
Tristan Michelson has always been in control of his emotions, but he can barely control himself when he realizes the masked stripper is his new stepdaughter.
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Chapter 1
Nicole Harper
~•~
"I'm getting married to a billionaire!"
I didn't speak for a few seconds, waiting to see if she had more to say. When she didn't, I sighed. "Is that what you called me to say?"
"A billionaire, Nikky! I don't have to worry about money anymore."
"Is he going to help me pay off my debts?"
"He's not your dad, Nikky. Why would he do that?"
Just as I expected. "I'm behind on rent and I might get evicted soon."
"You should have told me earlier! I went shopping a few days ago and I removed the tags on everything. If you can wait for a month, I'll send you some money when he gives me my allowance."
I couldn't wait that long. My landlord had been accommodating enough. I was behind on four months' rent, but that was because one of my part-time jobs, the best-paying one, suddenly dropped me and my savings were forced out of me by my father's creditors.
I was broke and desperate and hearing my mother talk about her third marriage wasn't what I was in the mood for.
"Also, I sent you a picture of my ring earlier this morning. Did you see it?"
"I'm busy with my final project and part-time job, Mom. I don't have the time to check your messages."
My mother sighed exaggeratedly. "You're so boring. My friends have fun with their daughters but I can barely get a conversation out of you."
That was typically what happened when I had a lot to deal with, none of which included my mother's married life and her selfishness.
"Anyway, make sure you come to the wedding."
I held back a sigh. "When is it?"
"April 23rd."
"Can't," I said without hesitation. "I'll be writing exams then.
"Are you really going to miss your mother's wedding?"
"I'll make sure to be present at your next one."
I hung up before she could complain further. My relationship with my mother was... weird, but she was also the only family I had left. Well, the only family whose location I knew. I didn't know where my father was and I wasn't bothered to find out.
Fine, I was, but I didn't have the means to find him so I didn't. I focused solely on graduating while suffering the consequences of his actions.
I wasn't sure what I did in my past life to be born to selfish parents but I had no choice but to deal with it.
Pushing my parents to the back of my mind, I stared at my account balance. It was red. I'd gotten my weekly paycheck earlier, but I'd spent it all on food and a few debts as I'd borrowed some cash from my coursemates in the past week.
I don't have any hope of paying my rent, not unless an angel fell from heaven and stacked up my bank account. I had two weeks to leave before I got thrown out and I couldn't afford to lose my apartment at this point.
Aside from the fact that I wouldn't be able to afford any other apartment, the stress associated with searching for a new place was something I wanted to avoid. I didn't want to be distracted. I wasn't naturally smart. Unlike others, I had to study really hard to get an average grade. I couldn't spend that time searching for a new place.
I closed my eyes, throwing my head against my headboard. I was having the hardest time of my life. At least, I hoped life wouldn't get any harder than this. I was broke, dumb, and heartbroken.
My boyfriend of three years had left me some weeks ago because I had too much baggage. I didn't blame him. I just hated that it happened.
My eyes drifted to one of my roommates as she walked past my room, then she paused, walked back, and peered into the open door. "Can I come in?"
I nodded. The door was already open anyway.
Clara walked in, looking around my room. It was almost empty as I had sold almost everything sellable just so I could afford food. "Still short on rent?"
"We might not be roommates in a few weeks," I joked, but the words came out dry.
She didn't laugh anyway. "Do you have anywhere to go after that?"
I shook my head, not bothering to hide the information from her. We lived in a shared apartment and the landlord wasn't exactly quiet whenever he asked for the rent.
My best friend was abroad for an exchange program. I wasn't close enough with my coursemates to inconvenience them by living with them. If I had known things would be this hard, I would have taken a break to work for a year before I returned to school.
Clara sat on my bed gently, biting her bottom lip. She had something to say but was clearly hesitant about it. I waited until she did. "You have a history in dancing, don't you?"
"Yeah..." I drawled out, unsure where the conversation was going.
"Can I suggest something?"
As long as it was going to help my situation, I didn't mind anything.
"You know I strip, right!"
I nodded.
"There's a gig next week. You can join if you're interested. It's not a regular gig. It's a private one for a bachelor's party. The least cash you'd get is fifteen grand and that's beside what might get sprayed. It's easy money. Two to three hours of entertaining wealthy men and you'll be able to pay your rent." She paused and stared at me. "Would you be interested? It's a one-time job. Or are you not into that sort of thing?"
Clara stripped for a living and I never judged her but I'd never thought of doing that myself. Sure, I'd been dancing since I was a little kid. Back when I was a teenager, I even had dreams of being a dancer, but it had been almost three years since I last moved my body. I wasn't even certain if I could still dance in heels.
Fifteen grand was very tempting. At this point in my life, it was the kind of money that could make me lose my morals, if I had any, but I also didn't want to embarrass myself.
"You don't have to answer right now, but you also don't have much time to give me an answer. It's just one night. You'll have enough to cover your rent till you graduate and you'll be able to focus on studying." She stood up, patting my leg. "Think about it and let me know by Monday so I can talk to my boss, okay?"
I nodded and watched her leave.
Fuck. I'd never done that in my life. Was I about to do it for the first time?
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8.5
"Oh. God, Eli, please! I'm not on the pills," I gasped, my fingers clawing at his shoulders.
"With a pussy as sweet as that?" he growled against my neck. "Jett was the loser. I'm not. I'm gonna fuck this pussy till the end. Afraid you're gonna have my child?"
My head dropped as a shudder ripped through me. "You're crazy!"
His voice dropped to a whisper. "You're mine now. My woman. And I'm gonna fuck you until this pretty body of yours only knows me."
---
Rowanne Steele thought she had it all. A perfect marriage to Jett Carter, heir to the Carter empire, and a future filled with love. But when Jett dies in a tragic car crash, her world shatters. Her mourning days aren't over, still clinging to his memory, drowning in grief and loyalty to the man she thought she knew.
Until one night, a hidden truth rises from his belongings and everything Rowanne believed about her husband was a lie.
Lost and heartbroken, she runs into the only arms that feel safe, Eli Carter, Jett's younger brother.
What begins as a moment of comfort in the rain turns into a mistake neither of them can forget. A mistake that feels far too much like fate.
Rowanne swears it can't happen again. Eli refuses to let go. Whether forbidden or not, he's determined to claim her. And this time, he won't lose.
7.9
In my past life, I was the naive surrogate who fell desperately in love with Karson King, an untouchable Wall Street billionaire.
I thought my blind devotion would earn me a place in his family. Instead, his cruel mother forced me to sign away my parental rights to my three-year-old daughter.
I was locked in a dark, freezing basement. I watched helplessly as his arrogant relatives tormented my child, pushing her down a flight of marble stairs and shattering her tiny arm.
When we finally died in a horrific car crash, my face covered in blood amidst the shattered glass, Karson didn't shed a single tear. To him, my death was just the convenient erasure of a cheap mistake.
I sacrificed my dignity for his approval, but they treated us worse than stray dogs. Why did my innocent daughter have to pay the ultimate price for their ruthless arrogance?
Opening my eyes again, the harsh glare of a massive crystal chandelier pierced my vision. I was back in the grand foyer of the King estate, exactly five years ago.
"Sign it. You are nothing but a gold digger."
My soon-to-be mother-in-law slammed the thick legal contract onto the marble table, demanding I give up my daughter.
This time, the paralyzing fear evaporated, replaced by absolute, icy clarity.
I didn't cower. I picked up the pen, looked right at the billionaire who despised me, and prepared to manipulate his entire empire.
9.7
I tried to quit.
My boss said no.
When you work for billionaire restaurateur Bastian Hale, every day is an exercise in endurance.
He screams at you in front of half the staff? Endure.
He tears your work to bits and tells you to start again? Endure.
He surprises you shirtless in the office late one night? Endure... then go home and die of embarrassment.
I've endured six years of Bastian Hale.
I can endure anything.
... Until my doctor tells me I'm going blind in ninety days.
Suddenly, enduring isn't the goal anymore.
Living is.
Seeing everything I can before the lights go out forever.
And that means one thing: quitting the job that's consumed my entire adult life.
There's just one problem:
Bastian doesn't accept my resignation.
Instead, he shreds my letter to pieces...
Offers me a million dollars to stay...
And vows to make my last ninety days of sight worth remembering.
The man is arrogant. Brutal. Cold as the walk-in freezer.
But his hands are warm.
And in the dark, he teaches me things my eyes never could.
I wanted one last look at the light.
I got a taste of the dark instead.
9.8
For two years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to wealthy heir Grady Maddox.
Then I found a hidden compartment in his study desk. Inside were dozens of explicit polaroids of his adopted sister, Jasmine, and a worn leather diary.
The diary revealed the sickening truth.
"Kaya is the perfect shield. As long as I have a wife, no one will ever look too closely at me and my little Yue."
When Jasmine deliberately knocked a bowl of boiling soup onto my hand, Grady didn't even glance at my blistering skin.
He frantically checked Jasmine for nonexistent scratches and yelled at me.
"Why weren't you paying attention? Look at the mess you've made! You scared her."
He then kicked me out to our empty penthouse as punishment, only to move Jasmine in the very next day, letting her parade around in his dress shirts and giving her my favorite custom furniture.
Looking at the husband I had devoted my life to fawning over the sister he was secretly sleeping with, I didn't feel heartbroken. I just felt a deep, suffocating disgust.
I was nothing but a paper wall meant to hide their twisted affair.
I didn't cry, and I didn't beg for his love.
I simply locked him out of the bedroom, gathered my financial records, and called Manhattan's most ruthless divorce attorney.
I was securing my escape, completely unaware that Grady's estranged, terrifyingly powerful older brother had been waiting ten years for this exact moment.
8.4
Juliette was an agriculture major desperately trying to get top-tier CRISPR potato data from Adrian Castillo, the untouchable physics genius and wealthy heir.
But to get it, she was dragged to a high-end shooting club, where Adrian suddenly lost all his legendary motor skills, shooting zeroes and acting like a helpless nerd.
His clumsy act made Juliette a target. Blair, a wealthy heiress, cornered her, mocking her mud-stained cargo pants and calling her a pathetic dirt-girl.
"If you lose, you leave this club and never speak to Adrian again."
Blair challenged her to a professional air pistol match. The crowd of elites laughed, waiting for the farm girl to humiliate herself.
Even worse, Adrian just stood behind her, pretending to be terrified of Blair and whispering that his sinuses would swell shut if Juliette didn't save him.
The mockery and judgment felt suffocating. Everyone thought she was just a desperate fangirl who didn't even know how to hold a gun.
But they didn't know the dark trauma she had buried years ago. And she didn't understand why Adrian, a man who could supposedly shoot a coin at eight hundred meters in a sandstorm, was deliberately playing weak to push her to the firing line. What was his sick endgame?
To secure her experimental fertilizer, Juliette finally stopped hiding.
She picked up the competition pistol, locked her perfect stance, and fired ten flawless shots.
108.5. Total, undeniable annihilation.
7.1
Jenna lay dying in the ICU, kept alive by a ventilator.
Her twenty-year-old twins walked in wearing designer clothes, looking at her with pure disgust.
Before Jenna could even reach out, Arthur stepped back.
"Don't touch me. You'll ruin my jacket."
Clio shoved a photo in Jenna's face, revealing their billionaire father was marrying someone else next week.
They told Jenna she was a penniless nobody, nothing but a cheap incubator for the Knight family heirs.
Then, checking his luxury watch, Arthur complained they were going to be late for a charity gala.
Smiling coldly, he reached out and unplugged her life support.
Jenna suffocated in agony, watching her own children walk away without looking back.
As the heart monitor flatlined, she swore a blood oath. If she ever got another chance, she would make them bleed.
When she opened her eyes again, she was back fifteen years in the past.
Her five-year-old son was kicking her bed, screaming at her to make his pancakes.
The trauma of her death ignited into pure, freezing rage. She finally understood that to this family, she was just livestock.
This time, Jenna didn't drop to her knees to coax him.
She dragged the brat over her knee and slapped him hard.
She demanded a divorce, escaped her locked mansion using torn bedsheets, and ran into the dark.
Finding a bleeding, heavily armed military operative hiding from assassins, Jenna pressed her hands against his wound.
"I get you out of this kill zone. In exchange, you protect me."