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I never expected my stepdad to have forbidden thoughts about me. He had raised me like a real daddy for ten years. I buried my dirty thoughts about him deeply, thought I would only be his little girl. Until the day I heard him moan my name when he pleasured himself. With a sigh, I shove my textbooks away and drop my forehead on the table in front of me. A gr0an of exasperation leaving me. This homework is killing me. I like to think I’m pretty smart, as I have one of the highest grade- point averages in my high school, but this time I’m wondering what failing this advanced anatomy class will do to my standing. It’s so hard and confusing and the terminology is sometimes so unpronounceable that I can’t comprehend the material. My mom is no help at all either. All she does is shop and have fancy cocktails and meals with her socialite friends. She just doesn’t care about what’s going on with me anymore. When I was young, it was just the two of us. She worked two jobs, and I tried to always be on my best behavior when the neighbor had to watch me. But then she met my dad, or rather my stepdad, Richard. Richard was tall, handsome, and rich, after they started to date, he took Mom out to fancy dinners, parties and elaborate vacations, also paying for a nanny for me because Mom said he didn’t want a kid around. But I realized after I grew up that it wasn’t Rich that didn’t want me on those fancy trips, it was my mom. Once Mom and I moved into the house, Richard and I became close, and he became my Daddy. He helped me with homework and was kind to me. He had a full-time chef and housekeeper who noticed my interest in the kitchen, and she started teaching me to cook and bake. It’s something I love doing to relax. And my mom? It seems that the minute there was someone else to take over raising and caring for me, she washed her hands of me. We see each other in passing at the house, but we don’t speak much unless it’s her making a snide remark about my body or clothes or something.She and Richard don’t even share a room anymore. I think they’re just married for the sake of being married these days. I don’t mind though; it gives Daddy and me time to bond and we’re closer than ever now. He’s my rock and never lets me put myself down and always scolds my mom if he hears anything negative from her. I love when he hugs me and presses a kiss on my forehead. It makes me feel so cherished and loved. I’m so small compared to Daddy, just five feet two inches to his six feet five inches. When he wraps his thick arms around me, I know I’m safe and protected. My hair is a rich red and hangs long down my back past my waist and my eyes are the bluest blue. With a light smattering of freckles across my nose and cheeks, Daddy says I’m the epitome of the girl next door. I know I’m pretty but I love it when Daddy showers me with compliments and affection. I sometimes find myself playing up the little girl card to get more cuddles from him. Hearing the garage door open, I roll my neck so I’m looking at the door with my head on the table. The jingle of keys hits the catch-all dish in the mudroom, indicating Daddy is home. I see his strong, muscular arms coming through the doorway and sigh at how handsome and saxy he is. His broad shoulders, strong chin, dark tousled hair, and whiskey-colored eyes make me feel warm and gooey inside. My body sings when I’m in his presence. I never know what to do with myself when that happens, but I know I like being near Daddy. “Hey, Pumpkin,” he says with a grin, tilting his head in question. “What’s wrong?” “This class is so hard,” I gr0an with a pout. “I hate it.” Daddy chuckles as he walks to me to drop a kiss on my temple and looks down at my work. “Anatomy, huh? That can be fun,” he smirks as he says it and runs his fingers through my hair. “It’s not fun, Daddy. It’s awful!” I exclaim, his fingers tangling in my hair from my sudden movement. He untangles his fingers and pinches my chin to tilt my face up to see his. “I know we can make it fun, baby.” “You think?” “I know,” he says with a grin and leans down to kiss my lips quickly, drawing a sweet sigh from me. I love it when he’s affectionate with me. “Where’s your mother?” He asks after he pulls away. My eyes roll as I respond. “She left about an hour ago with a suitcase and said she was having a girl’s weekend in Sedona.” “Perfect. She’d just distract us anyway,” he tells me. “I’m going to go take a shower and then we’ll hunker down and get all the content drilled into you.” He winks as he says it and turns to head into his wing of the house. “Thank you, Daddy! You’re the best!” “Anything for my sweet girl.” Knowing Daddy is going to help me study and understand this stuff makes me relax. I’m certain he’ll be able to make me understand how it all works. Richard’s pov I can’t wipe the grin off my face as I make my way into my suite. Kaci turned eighteen six weeks ago and since that moment I haven’t been able to stop watching her tiny little body. She’s so petite that one of my hands can span the width of her smooth back. My sweet girl is kind and generous, nothing like her mother Barbara who had me fooled from day one. She didn’t tell me she had a kid until the day I asked her to move in with me, because obviously, she would have to live with me, too. I was upset, but not because she had a child. No, I was pis-sed that she lied about it and left her girl at home while we gallivanted around the world. I was shocked to find out that the “so called” dog sitter's money I paid when we were out every time was actually for a nanny for her child. She’d appeased me with the explanation that she couldn’t bear to have another man break her little girl’s heart. I completely understood that. My mother was a single mother, too, and watching men come and go always sat wrong with me. It’s one of the reasons my mother and I don’t have a relationship now. When Barbara moved in with me, she continued to be everything I fell for in the beginning, and Kaci became my daughter. Things changed almost immediately after Barb and I got married. Her selfish nature became the forefront of her personality. Gone was the sweet woman I thought I loved. I’d have left her long ago had it not been for Kaci. My girl is the sweetest and truly is the light of my life. If I’d divorced Barb when I wanted to, Kaci would have been lost to me. Lucky for me, Barbara and I rarely see each other and only speak when she buys something outrageous, which is more often as of late. I’m getting fed up with her in general and after a chat with Kaci, I’m hoping she’ll be okay with her mom and me divorcing. She just needs to know she always has a place with me. And now that she needs help with her anatomy homework, I’m thinking about all the ways I can teach her everything she needs to know. I turn on the water in the shower before stripping out of my button-down shirt and slacks. My thick c0ck is at half-mast from just thinking about the anatomy lesson Kaci and I will have shortly. As I slip under the hot water, I close my eyes and conjure up an image of my sweet baby lounging by the pool. Her tiny string bikini barely covering all of her, showcasing her pert tiits and tight as-s. As I grip my hand around my member and start to str0ke, I imagine my hands roaming her body. Smoothing over her flat, toned stomach to her perfect breeasts, her niipples standing at attention for me. “Fvvvvcccckkkkkkk,” I moan as my release approaches quickly from just the thought of touching my baby girl. Before I know it, thick ropes of cvm burst from my tip and coat the shower wall. I continue to stroke my c0ck slowly while squeezing my sensitive head, being sure to get all the cvm out. Damm, that felt good. It’s been too long since I’ve fvcked anyone, and my member has been feeling neglected. This anatomy lesson is coming at just the right time. And it seems we have an entire long weekend home alone to make sure my girl understands everything for her class. Chapter 2 Kaci I am checking the refrigerator when Dad comes back into the breakfast room after his shower. I hear his footsteps and stand up. “You hungry, Kaci?” He asks as he enters the kitchen. He was wearing those loose beach shorts and a tight-fitting T-shirt that hugged his chest and shoulders. He looks so fresh and strikingly handsome, my heart skips a beat. “Not yet,” I answer, still holding the fridge door. “Just looking to see what we have for dinner later.” “What do you say we order pizza and veg out on the couch tonight after we study?” “Really?” I spin around with a big smile and do a happy dance. He chuckles and reaches out to tickle my stomach. “Really, baby. I’m craving pizza and I don’t want us to have to cook tonight.” “Daddy!” I squirm under his fingers. He bops my nose and winks at me. “Let’s have a look at that anatomy book and see if we can help you remember everything.” “Ugh,” I gr0an, letting my head fall back on my shoulders. “There’s just so much information, and the words are so hard to recall.” “I know, baby. But I think if we study the practice of anatomy, it’ll help you remember. I know for me, it’s always easier to remember when I’ve put actions to terminology.” “Okay, if you say so
” I grumble, but still follow him. He smiles. “I do. Let’s get comfortable in the living room. This could take a while.” We gather my things and make our way to the deep oversized sectional in the living room. I curl up in the corner with my back against the armrest and stretch my legs out toward him. “Okay, let’s see that book. Tell me what’s got you banging your head on the table.” I hand him the textbook, already open to the chapter on reproductive organs. “Hmm, reproduction
 This kind of anatomy.” he says gently. “What’s matter?” I asked confusedly. “Nothing, I mean that’s a tricky one,” he coughs a little. “I know, Daddy. It’s a lot, and the teacher isn’t very good. He talks and talks without saying anything, and everyone just giggles. It’s so distracting. I think the teacher is even embarrassed to have to teach us this stuff.” His expression turned serious, he reaches over and places his warm hand on my knee. “I’m sorry to hear that, baby girl. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about when teaching or learning about the human body. You want to be sure you understand all the pieces and parts so you can keep your body as healthy as possible.” “I know. You’ve always told me that, so I guess I’m just annoyed that the rest of class doesn’t feel the same.” “I get it.” He pats me gently. “Let’s start with the female anatomy, since you’re already familiar with it.” “Okay.” “Name as many parts of the female reproductive system as you can.” “Brreasts,” I starts, counting on my fingers. “Niipples. Vaggina. Ovaries
” I trailed off, thinking hard, my brows furrowed. “That’s a good start, baby. Now, can you tell me what the labia is?” I chew on my bottom lip, trying to recall. After a few seconds of silence, dad asks softly, “How about the cliitoris?” I shake my head, start to feel disappointed in myself. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it all,” he reassures me, he points out in the book this part or that, helping to show me where each organ is. “The cIitoris is probably the part you know most about,” he chuckles and winks at me. I blink at him innocently. I genuinely have no idea why he says that. He closes the book, sets it on the coffee table, and turns to face me fully. “Baby, do you know what the cIitoris does?” I shake my head again. He smiles. “It’s not important for reproduction, but it’s a major factor in a woman’s pleasure. Have you ever touched yourself before?” “No,” I admit. “Some girls talk about how amazing it feels when guys finger them, but I doubt they actually know what they’re doing. I mean, they laugh at the word breeasts, for crying out loud!” We both laugh. “Hmm, well
” He pauses and looks away for a moment. “What?” “Well, in my opinion, the best way to learn something is by touching it or doing it. Would you be comfortable with that?” My eyes widen and I sit up straighter, leaning closer to him. “Y-you want me to touch myself? Right now?” He gives me that gentle, reassuring smile. “It’s just a suggestion. Hands-on learning works best for me. And I’m here to help you, baby. You know I only want you to excel.” He reaches out, tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and brushes his thumb across my bottom lip. “You’ve grown up so fast, baby girl. You’re gorgeous.” I feel my face burn. I look down at my lap and realize my shorts have ridden up, the outline of my pvssy faintly visible through the thin fabric. “Thank you, Daddy
 And yes, I want to learn.” His smile grows deeper, darker somehow. “Perfect, sweet pea.” He shifts on the couch so he faces me directly. “Let’s take your shirt off and get you comfortable.” I raise my arms as he pulls my shirt over my head. Then he suggests taking off my brra too. The moment I unhook it, my breeasts spill free. He svcks in a sharp breath.

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My husband, the Vampire King, drained me of my blood every night for three years to keep my stepsister beautiful. Tonight, he handed me divorce papers and told me I should be grateful he let me live this long. I signed them with fingers so anemic they couldn't grip the pen without shaking. He didn't know my blood was the only thing keeping his kingdom from collapsing — and I was down to my last pint. Lena Voss. That is the name I wrote on the death certificate they called a divorce agreement. The pen slipped. A drop of my blood — thin, pale, barely red anymore — fell onto the paper. It sank into the parchment and glowed for a half-second before disappearing. Caspian didn't notice. He never noticed anything about me. "Faster, Lena," he said. He stood by the window of his penthouse office, sixty floors above the city. The lights of the skyline reflected in his black eyes. He didn't look at me. He looked at his phone. "Vivienne's coronation is in two hours. I need you gone before the cameras arrive." Vivienne. My stepsister. The woman who would replace me as Queen of the Valdric Vampire Court. "I have a question," I said. My voice sounded like paper tearing. "About the settlement." "There is no settlement," Caspian said. He typed something on his phone. "You brought nothing into this marriage. You leave with nothing." That was a lie. I brought my blood. In the vampire world, human blood is currency. But my blood — the blood of a Solaris bloodline, the last living descendant of the Sun Priests — was not just currency. It was a weapon. One drop could heal a dying vampire. A vial could power a ward that protected an entire city. Caspian's kingdom had been shielded for three years by wards painted in my blood. His soldiers drank diluted vials of it before battle and became unstoppable. His court thrived because every month, I was strapped to a medical chair in the basement and drained until I passed out. But the blood was credited to Vivienne. She told Caspian she was the Solaris heir. She wore the sun-shaped birthmark — tattooed onto her hip by a black-market body artist in Prague. She sat in the Donor Throne during ceremonies while I lay in the basement, needles in my arms, watching my life pour into plastic bags. "Sign the last page," Caspian ordered. I flipped to it. My vision blurred. The words swam. *The Donor hereby relinquishes all claims to blood-debt, marital protection, and sanctuary within the Valdric Court.* Blood-debt. That was the vampire law that said if someone gave blood to save a vampire's life, that vampire owed them an eternal debt. Caspian owed me thousands of debts. Every soldier I had healed. Every ward I had powered. This paper erased all of it. "If I sign this," I whispered, "I have no protection. Any vampire can hunt me." "Then stay indoors," Caspian said. He finally looked at me. His eyes swept over my body — the bruised arms, the sunken cheeks, the medical port still implanted in my neck. He saw it all. He felt nothing. "You were a useful vessel, Lena," he said. "But Vivienne is the real Solaris. She always was. You were just... storage." Storage. Three years of marriage. Three years of bleeding. Three years of watching him kiss my stepsister at galas while I recovered in a locked room. And I was storage. I signed the paper. Caspian took it without touching my fingers. He walked to the door. "A car will take you to the border," he said. "Don't come back." He paused. For one moment, his hand tightened on the doorframe. His nostrils flared. "Why do you always smell like that?" he muttered, almost to himself. "Like sunlight. It's... distracting." Then he left. He didn't know that the smell of sunlight was the Solaris bond — the sacred scent a vampire could only detect from their true Fated Mate. He had been smelling me for three years and blaming it on the air freshener. I pressed my hand against the medical port in my neck. It pulsed with a dull, infected ache. They had taken blood this morning. Two liters. For Vivienne's "coronation glow." I had maybe three liters left in my body. A human needs at least four to survive. I stood up. The room tilted. I grabbed the desk. On Caspian's screen, a live feed showed the ballroom downstairs. Vivienne stood on a stage in a golden dress, waving at a crowd of vampires. She was radiant. She was glowing — literally glowing with stolen Solaris light. My light. I turned away from the screen and walked toward the service elevator. Tonight, Vivienne would become Queen. And tonight, the wards protecting the kingdom would begin to die — because the real Solaris was leaving, and she was almost out of blood.

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Before my flight to Yale, I mailed a box to my ex-boyfriend, Ethan. My best friend, Chloe, said I should call it a “relationship coffin.” Inside were all the relics of our four years together. The team hoodie he’d given me, the debate trophy we had won, and the now-worthless certificate naming me a “fraternity sweetheart.” The delivery was set to arrive tonight. It would be delivered to his fraternity house during the celebration for him and his new girlfriend, Olivia—right at the peak of his triumph. 
 Just a few hours ago, we were in that same auditorium. I had been clinging to the hope that he was about to announce me as the next fraternity sweetheart. Instead, he gave the title to Olivia, a girl whose family name carried weight. I called out to him from the crowd. He looked down at me, his tone cold and dismissive. “You’re not like her, Ava.” “She was born into this world. You were never really one of us.” With a single sentence, he ground four years of my effort and devotion to dust. For him, I had given up my early application to Yale’s JD/MBA program. I had believed love could bridge the chasm between our worlds. It turned out that in his eyes, I was just another outsider trying to claw her way into a life she didn’t deserve. The laughter of the crowd was a deafening roar around me. But I didn’t cry. I just turned, walked out of the auditorium, and on my phone, I pressed the “submit” button I should have pressed months ago. Then I sent an email to the program’s sponsor, Julian Vance. “I’m ready.” Ethan probably thinks I’m back in my dorm room right now, sobbing my heart out. He’s wrong. By the time he opens that “coffin” in front of everyone, I’ll be thirty thousand feet in the air. He can keep his ridiculous little campus kingdom. I’m going to conquer a world of my own. 
 Ethan and Olivia made it official. On Instagram, he posted a photo of himself holding her on the balcony of a luxury off-campus apartment. The caption read: “The beginning of a new chapter.” He chose to post it on the day I was completely buried in finals. Maybe he was sure I wouldn’t have time to make a scene. Or maybe that was the point. The moment I saw the photo, my heart seized, a sharp, stabbing pain. But I didn’t immediately call him demanding answers, the way the old me would have. I just turned off my phone, took a deep breath, shoved the frantic pounding in my chest back down, and turned my attention to the mountain of case law in front of me. That evening, I ran into Olivia by the coffee cart in the library. She was holding an oat latte. When she saw me, her face feigned the perfect amount of surprise. “Ava, what a coincidence. Studying, too?” she asked, her tone suggesting a warmth that had never existed between us. I gave her a cool nod, uninterested in conversation. But she acted as if she hadn’t noticed my distance. Her eyes suddenly reddened, and her voice took on a wounded edge. “Ava, I know you’re still angry with Ethan. But you didn’t have to speak badly of me to Professor Boyle, did you? My term paper almost got flagged for ‘excessive citation.’” I just stared at her. “I’ve never mentioned your name to any professor.” “We’re both ambitious women, Ava,” she said with a sad smile, as if offering me a piece of sisterly advice. “There’s really no need for this, is there?” My default setting is blunt. And nothing infuriates me more than a blatant lie. “Olivia, stop making things up—” Before I could finish, the hand holding her coffee gave a theatrical tremble. The scalding latte spilled all over the brand-new Celine bag sitting beside her. “Ah! My bag!” she shrieked, the sound piercing the library’s silence. “Ava, you did that on purpose!” The sheer audacity of her performance stunned me into silence. My first instinct was to grab a napkin for her. But before my hand could even get clos......

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He Stole My Fortune, So I Took Back My Empire
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At my family’s annual charity gala, my husband, Liam, brought his mistress and their son. In front of the governor of Texas, he introduced the woman as “the family foundation’s new consultant.” Then he came to my side and murmured, his voice a low threat only I could hear, “A son, dropped right into our laps. You’ll learn to accept it.” He thought I was still that gentle, elegant Texas socialite who always knew what was best for the family. He thought I hadn’t understood the “development fund” amendment he’d had me sign three years ago. What he didn’t know was that every time he used our money to buy his mistress a house or a car, AmEx sent a purchase notification straight to my phone. More than a thousand of them. I looked at his triumphant face and calmly set down my wineglass. “Liam, can we talk in the lounge?” He didn’t know I’d been waiting three years for this moment, too. Tonight, I hadn’t come to accept anything. I had come to settle the accounts. ... Liam followed me into the lounge and shut the door behind him. The lock clicked, sealing off the glittering falsehood of the party outside. He undid the top button of his tuxedo shirt and leaned against the bar, relaxed, like a king awaiting his curtain call. “Divorce?” he repeated, as if I’d told a terrible joke. “Elena, how exactly do you plan to divorce me?” He didn’t wait for my answer. He picked up the tablet on the bar, tapped the screen, and swiped an asset list in front of my face. “Look at this.” His voice held the casual condescension of a victor. “The condo on Lake Austin, the ski chalet in Aspen, those hedge fund stakes I had my eye on. Ring a bell? They’re all under the development fund.” He swiped the screen again. Each asset gleamed like a medal, a testament to his careful scheming. “And I,” he emphasized, pointing at his chest, “am the sole managing partner of that fund.” He set down the tablet and stepped closer, leaning down to ......

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