Page 2 of Misconducts & Temptation

"I'll start dinner," I said softly, hoping to avoid further conflict.

"You better," my stepmother said. "And make sure it's good this time."

I moved towards the kitchen, their voices fading behind me as they continued their tirade about my countless shortcomings. The kitchen was no better than the rest of the house—faded linoleum floors and outdated appliances—but it was familiar territory.

I rolled up my sleeves and got to work, focusing on each task with meticulous care. This was how I coped—with routines and responsibilities that kept my mind occupied.

Because if I stopped for even a moment to think about it all, I might just fall apart too.

I know they can be a bit much, my father's voice echoed in my head. It was the same words he had said after he introduced me to them, when they had left.But I need you to show them kindness. They lost their father overseas.

I sucked in a breath, trying to keep my emotions in check. What about me? I lost my dad too, just last year. A car accident caused by his heart attack had taken him away. It’s not like that gave me an excuse to act like a spoiled bitch.

Guilt crept in at the harshness of my thoughts. Shaking my head, I tried to refocus. My fingers worked mechanically, chopping vegetables and stirring pots. The repetitive motions provided a small comfort, a sense of control over at least one aspect of my chaotic life.

Instead of dwelling on the unfairness of it all, I let my mind wander to the book I was writing—a romance set in a small town where love bloomed against all odds. My main character, Lily, was everything I wasn’t: bold, confident, unafraid to chase her dreams.

But I wanted to learn from her.

I wanted to live through her.

Lily would never let herself be treated the way I was. She’d stand up for herself and fight for what she deserved.

"Elodie!" Annabelle's voice snapped me back to reality. "Don't burn the chicken again."

"I won't," I replied evenly, keeping my frustration buried deep.

"Better not," Stephanie added as she lounged against the doorway, her phone in hand. "We have guests coming over tonight."

Guests? No one had mentioned anything about guests.

I felt a knot form in my stomach. More people meant more work and more scrutiny. I finished preparing dinner and set the table as quickly as possible, hoping to avoid any further confrontations.

As I moved around the kitchen, arranging plates and silverware, I couldn't help but think about how different things could be. In my story, Lily would meet someone who saw her worth, who valued her for who she was rather than what she could do for them.

Maybe one day, I would find that too.

But for now, there was dinner to serve and guests to entertain—more roles to play in this never-ending charade of family harmony.

With everything finally done, I called out softly, "Dinner's ready."

My stepmother appeared first, inspecting the spread with a critical eye before nodding approvingly. "About time," she said curtly.

Stephanie and Annabelle followed suit, taking their seats without so much as a thank you.

And then the doorbell rang.

Great—our guests had arrived.

I smoothed down my apron and went to answer it, wondering what fresh hell awaited behind that door.

I opened the door to find a well-dressed man and woman standing on the porch. The man held a clipboard, and the woman clutched a designer handbag.

"Hello, you must be Elodie," the man said with a practiced smile. "I'm Mr. Carter, and this is my wife, Karen. We're from Premier Realty."

A cold wave washed over me as I processed his words. Premier Realty? I glanced back at my stepmother, who was already approaching with a saccharine smile plastered on her face.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Carter," she greeted them warmly. "Please come in."

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