My Classmate's Brutal Father

My teeth sank into my lower lip as I stood trembling in my best friend's study, my nerves frayed.

A pair of strong, calloused hands held me steady, his voice a deep, soothing murmur against my ear. "Easy now. There's nothing to be afraid of."

The man standing before me? None other than Sophia's father.

Under his reassuring touch, I let my eyelids flutter shut...

My name is Emily Anderson, and I just turned eighteen.

While most girls my age swooned over boy bands and pretty-faced actors, I never understood the appeal. Too polished, too... juvenile.

No, I've always had a weakness for older men—the kind with experience etched into their features, confidence woven into every word.

That weekend, Sophia invited me over to her place.

And her father happened to be home.

The moment I saw him, my breath hitched. Mr. Lowell stood there in a flawlessly tailored suit, the glint of an expensive watch catching the light as he moved. Everything about him radiated effortless sophistication—the kind that came with years of living well.

"Nice to meet you, sweetheart," he said, his voice like warm whiskey.

His rough palm enveloped mine in a firm, lingering handshake.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and my thighs pressed together instinctively. I barely managed a mumbled reply before he stepped away, leaving me standing there, dazed.

In every possible way—his looks, his presence—Mr. Lowell was the embodiment of every fantasy I'd ever had.

"Earth to Emily," Sophia snapped her fingers in front of my face. "You okay?"

I blinked, snapping out of my trance, and grabbed her wrist.

"How long have your parents been divorced?"

"Since I was little. Why?"

"Has your dad dated anyone since?"

"A few women, but nothing ever stuck." She narrowed her eyes. "Why the sudden interest?"

I shrugged. "Just figured a guy like him wouldn't be single for long."

I'd never admit the truth—that I was already half in love with her father.

First, because the thought alone was scandalous.

Second, because Sophia couldn't keep a secret to save her life. If my conservative parents caught wind of this, I'd be grounded until graduation.

That evening, Mr. Lowell returned and cooked dinner.

Among the spread? My absolute favorite—Buffalo wings.

I froze. How did he even know?