Page 62 of Misconducts & Temptation

The house was silent except for our footsteps echoing off the marble floors. It felt like walking through a museum—cold, distant, and devoid of warmth. I kept my eyes downcast, trying to match Keaton's brisk pace without tripping over my own feet.

We reached the front door, and he held it open for me. The cool morning air hit my face as I stepped outside, a welcome contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. The driveway stretched out before us, lined with perfectly manicured hedges and expensive cars.

His frustration seemed to hang in the air between us like a storm cloud ready to burst. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I focused on putting one foot in front of the other as we made our way down the steps.

The reality of our situation hit me all over again—this was my life now, intertwined with his in ways I couldn't yet comprehend.

"I'm going to make some calls and get your name changed on your documents," Keaton said as he pulled out of the garage. "What time is class over?"

Before I could respond, my phone rang. He furrowed his brow. "Who the fuck is calling you?"

I glanced at the screen. "My stepmother."

He said nothing, just looked straight ahead.

I answered it. "Hello?"

"Where are you?" she demanded. "You didn't show up for your shift at Clean & Tidy last night. You didn't come home. Breakfast was not prepared?—"

He glanced at me, eyes narrowing. "Don't let her talk to you that way."

"I..."

"Who are you with?" my stepmother continued. "Is that a male? You know, William is not going to permit you to be around other men?—"

He grabbed the phone from my hand and put it on speaker. "Who the fuck is William?" he demanded.

There was a brief silence on the other end before my stepmother's voice sharpened, dripping with venom. "Who do you think you are, speaking to me like that? William is Elodie's fiancé, and she has no business with any other man."

Keaton's jaw tightened, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel with one hand and held the phone with the other. "Fiancé? I think you're fucking wrong. My wife has no fucking fiancé."

“Wife?” My stepmother scoffed. "Who is this? Elodie knows her place and responsibilities."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with a mix of fear and anger.

"Elodie belongs to me," he growled. "Got that? Me. Her husband. Not some so-called fiancé I've never heard of."

My stepmother's laugh was cold and hollow. "Oh, this is rich. Who do you think you are? Some knight in shining armor? You have no idea what you're dealing with."

"Try me," he shot back, his eyes never leaving the road.

A heavy silence fell between us, filled only by the hum of the engine and the pounding of my heart in my chest.

Finally, my stepmother spoke again, her tone icy. "This isn't over, Elodie. You will regret this."

The call ended abruptly, leaving an eerie quiet in its wake.

Keaton handed the phone back to me without a word, his expression unreadable. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his jaw set in a hard line. "You need to stand up for yourself, babes."

I glanced at him, feeling a spark of frustration. "It's not that simple."

"It is that simple," he insisted. "You can't let people talk to you like that."

"Easy for you to say," I shot back. "You don't know what it's like."

"Fuck, did you not just see how my father talked to me?" he demanded. "You think I let him talk to me that way? Fuck no. No one—absolutely no one—is allowed to speak to you that way. They'll deal with me if they try."

"Why do you even care?" I asked, my voice tinged with bitterness.

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