Forbidden Temptation：Daddy's Secret Obsession

The second I step inside, my gut screams that something's off.

My parents don't fight like this—not loud, not where I can hear. But today? Their voices rip through the house like a storm, brutal and unfiltered.

My pulse kicks into overdrive as I bolt down the hallway, my sandals silent against the plush carpet. Then I freeze.

Their bedroom looks like a bomb went off.

Clothes explode from drawers, toiletries litter the rumpled sheets, and two half-packed suitcases gape open like hungry mouths. My shopping bags slip from my fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud.

"What's happening?"

My voice cracks, too shrill, too scared.

Victoria whips around, her bleach-blonde hair a wild mess around her flushed face.

"We're leaving," she snaps, cramming a fistful of dresses into a suitcase. "Start packing, Evelyn. I'll come back for you once we have the keys."

"Leaving?" My stomach drops. "We're moving?"

Nathaniel stands like a statue by the window, still in his work clothes—flannel shirt, mud-caked boots, that stupid silver belt buckle Victoria always mocked. He won't look at me. His jaw's clenched so tight I can see the muscle twitching.

Then I spot it—the used condom on the floor.

My face burns.

"Daddy?" The childish name slips out before I can stop it. "Are we really moving?"

Silence.

Victoria scoffs. "You don't have to call him that anymore. We're done with him." She slams the suitcase shut and jumps on it to force the zipper. "Good riddance."

The front door swings open.

A stranger struts in—tall, lanky, with a smirk that makes my skin crawl. He's younger than Nathaniel, clean-shaven, hair slicked back like some cheap salesman.

"Ready, babe?" he says, grabbing the suitcases.

"Who the hell is this?" My voice cracks.

Nathaniel finally speaks, venom dripping from every word. "That's the guy your mother's been screwing behind my back for eight months. Say hello to your new dad, sweetheart."

I recoil. Tears blur my vision.

Victoria grabs my face, her nails digging in just enough to sting. "Gregory will treat us better. He actually wants me. Unlike him." She glares at Nathaniel before storming out, the door slamming behind her.

Nathaniel mutters something under his breath.

I snap.

"What did you do to her?" I scream, my hands shaking.

His eyes widen, then darken. "You're blaming me?" He jabs a finger at me. "I worked myself to the bone for you two! Who paid for your car? Your phone? Those shopping bags full of crap you didn't need?"

Guilt coils in my gut. He's right. I never thought about the cost. Never questioned the endless swipes of the credit card he handed me like it was nothing.

"I didn't know," I whisper.

His shoulders sag. "Of course you didn't. Because I never complained. Not when she quit her job. Not when you both treated me like a damn ATM."

The truth hits me like a punch.

I see him now—really see him. The exhaustion in his hazel eyes. The unkempt beard. The weight he's put on from skipping meals, from skipping life while he worked to keep us afloat.

And what did we give him in return?