Page 10 of Misconducts & Temptation

"That's it," Turner finished. "Class dismissed."

I hurriedly packed up my things, my mind still a whirl of sociology theories and Peter’s proximity.

I stood at the bus stop, clutching my worn-out backpack and shifting my weight from one foot to the other. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows on the pavement, and I could feel its warmth on my back. A few other students from Crestwood Academy waited nearby, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. I kept to myself, as usual, staring down the road and willing the bus to appear.

Just then, I saw Keaton walking toward his car. My heart rate spiked. His tall frame moved with a casual confidence that made him stand out even among Crestwood's elite. His blond hair was tousled in that effortlessly cool way, and his piercing blue eyes scanned the parking lot.

Panic gripped me. I nearly jumped out of my skin as I ducked behind the bus stop sign, trying to make myself invisible. My pulse hammered in my ears as I watched him approach his car—a sleek Maserati that gleamed under the sun.

I felt a twinge of envy. Not for the car itself, but for the freedom it represented—freedom from waiting for buses and dealing with my stepfamily's demands. For a moment, I allowed myself to dream of what it would be like to live without those burdens.

Just as I thought I might go unnoticed, Keaton glanced over and caught sight of me huddled awkwardly behind the sign. His intense blue eyes met mine, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He arched an eyebrow, clearly amused by my attempt to hide.

Heat rushed to my face, and I fumbled with my backpack strap, trying to look busy and nonchalant.

Keaton’s smirk widened into a grin as he unlocked his car and slid into the driver’s seat with an easy grace that only seemed to highlight how out of place I felt.

He revved the engine—a deep, throaty roar that turned heads—and then peeled off with a screech of tires that left a cloud of dust in its wake.

I watched him go, feeling both relieved and embarrassed. The bus finally arrived, its brakes hissing as it came to a stop in front of me. As I climbed aboard and found a seat near the back, I couldn't help but wonder what it must be like to have everything handed to you so effortlessly.

With a sigh, I settled into my seat and tried to push thoughts of Keaton out of my mind, focusing instead on getting home and facing whatever new challenges awaited me there.

I walked up the steps to the house, feeling the weight of another long day pressing down on me. The familiar creak of the porch under my feet was a small comfort, but it didn’t prepare me for what I saw when I opened the door.

My stepmother, Marion, stood in the living room, her usual stern expression replaced with an unsettling smile. She was talking to a man I didn’t recognize—a wiry figure with graying hair slicked back and a suit that looked slightly too big for his skinny frame. His eyes roamed around the room before landing on me, and a chill ran down my spine.

"Oh, Elodie, there you are," Marion said, her tone unusually warm. She crossed the room and placed a stiff hand on my shoulder. "Come on. Always the dutiful student."

I stared at her, bewildered by her sudden change in demeanor. Her grip on my shoulder was firm, almost possessive, as she guided me further into the room.

“Elodie,” the man said in a low voice that sent shivers down my spine. “So good to meet you finally. Your mother here has told me about you.”

He extended a hand, and I forced myself to take it. His skin felt clammy against mine, and I had to resist the urge to pull away immediately.

“Stepmother,” I corrected automatically. I glanced back at Marion, hoping for some sort of explanation. Her smile widened, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Elodie,” she said with an almost sickly sweetness, “I’m so glad you’re here. I’d like you to meet William Harding… your new fiancé.”

The words hung in the air like a bad odor. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to process what she had just said.

“Fiancé?” I echoed, barely able to believe my ears.

“Yes,” she replied, her grip tightening on my shoulder. “Mr. Harding has agreed to take care of our financial troubles… in exchange for your hand in marriage.”

William’s smile broadened as he watched me struggle with the revelation.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice dripping with false reassurance. “We’ll get along just fine.”

Chapter 4

Keaton

Standing in front of my closet, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. The engagement party was supposed to be a celebration, another social charade orchestrated by my father to showcase our perfect family image. He’d already laid out a suit for me—a stiff, charcoal-gray monstrosity that screamedcorporate puppet.

I refused to be paraded around like some prized possession tonight.

Ignoring the tailored suit, I reached for the back of my closet. My fingers brushed against the fabric of a garment bag, and I pulled it out with a sense of defiance. Unzipping it, I revealed my custom Chanel suit. Striped black and white, it was bold, unapologetic—everything I aspired to be but rarely felt allowed to.

---