Chapter 1
Marty
Romeo and Juliet were seconds away from their iconic cinematic kiss when a heavy knock shattered the quiet of my flat.
I turned off the TV, abandoning my bowl of popcorn on the couch, and yanked the door open. My mother stood on the threshold, looking smaller than usual under the harsh hallway lights.
“I’ve missed you so much, sweetie,” she breathed, throwing her arms around me and hugging me tightly.
“Missed you too, Mum,” I murmured into her shoulder, closing my eyes. When she finally pulled away, my eyes drifted past her shoulder. “How was the shift? And... who’s this?”
Mum stepped aside, and my breath caught straight in my throat. Bloody hell. Forget the film—my actual Romeo was standing right outside my door. He was drop-dead gorgeous: messy black hair, a lethal jawline, a straight, tall nose, and emerald eyes that pierced right through me. Dressed in a pristine, tailored business suit, he looked less like a casual visitor and more like a billionaire CEO who had lost his way to a boardroom.
“Marty, this is Clark,” Mum said, her cheeks flushing a youthful pink. “Clark, this is Marty—my daughter. Your soon-to-be stepdaughter.”
Stepdaughter? The word hit me like a physical blow. Dad had been gone for five years, and Mum hadn’t breathed a word about dating anyone else. I stared at her curly blonde hair and fair skin—the exact features I had inherited from her—wondering if she had truly managed to completely move on from Dad.
“Did I hear that right?” I stammered, looking between them. “You two are dating?”
“Don’t flatter me, Charlotte,” Clark tittered, a smooth, devastating smile playing on his lips.
I swallowed hard. Mum had truly managed to reel in a goldfish. They’d only been dating a few weeks, apparently—a whirlwind romance with a wealthy coworker that she wanted to tell me about in person before things went any further. She dropped her black duffel bag onto my couch as she explained, but my mind was still reeling.
“But what about Dad?” I asked quietly, the hurt slipping into my voice. “Don’t you love him anymore?”
“Your dad—of course, I did love him, sweetie,” Mum said softly, reaching for my hand. “But it’s time to move on. It’s been five years already since his death, and I’m sure he’d understand. Look, I know you’re surprised by this, but I don’t want to be lonely, Marty. The life of a widow isn’t easy. I hope you understand.”
“And I’m just here to offer your mum some good company,” Clark interrupted, stepping into the flat. “I’m glad to finally meet you, Marty Munroe. Your mum has mentioned you many times.”
Before Mum could look up, he caught my eye and flashed a quick, deliberate wink. I stiffened. The gesture felt entirely too bold, but before I could process it, he pulled Mum tightly against his side.
“Alright, alright. Why don’t we talk about this over lunch?” Mum suggested, breaking the tension as she walked toward the kitchen. “I’m starving. I’m sure you both are too.”
We moved to the kitchen, and I immediately began helping Mum set the table since she looked exhausted from work. But as we moved around the room, the atmosphere grew suffocating. Clark kept flirting with her right in front of me, making me feel utterly invisible. Yet, whenever Mum turned her back, I caught his green eyes tracking my movements across the room.
We sat down, and my chest tightened to the point where it felt hard to breathe. This is wrong. He’s going to be your stepfather. Stop looking at him.
“So, I have one important question for you, sweetie,” Mum said suddenly, her voice dropping into a rare, serious gravity. “Let me go straight to the point—would you mind if I start a serious romantic relationship with him?”
I swallowed the lump of food in my throat. I looked at her hopeful, anxious expression, then at Clark, who was holding her hand affectionately. I had seen Mum crying alone in her room for years. She deserved to be happy again, and I couldn’t bring myself to be the hindrance to her joy.
“I have no objections, Mum,” I forced out, offering a tight smile.
“Oh! Thank you so much, sweetie!” The tense expression on her face vanished, replaced by a radiant smile that Clark instantly mirrored.
“I know you deserve to be happy, Mum,” I added, turning my gaze directly to the man across from me. “But just a warning, Sir Clark—hurt her, and you’ll taste my punch.”
Clark chuckled, leaning over the table. “Don’t worry, Marty. I’ll always love your mother—more than how your father used to love her.”
There it was again. He caught my eye and flashed another slow, mocking wink.
A cold ache bloomed in my chest. The comment about my dad felt cheap, disrespectful, and entirely unprovoked. The butterfly-inducing attraction I had felt a moment ago instantly soured into a wave of intense disappointment. Outside appearances really didn’t justify a person’s character. Suddenly nauseous, I pushed my chair back and stood up.
“Sweetie, you okay?” Mum asked, noticing my untouched plate. “You didn’t eat anything. Aren’t you hungry?”
“I’m sorry, Mum. I’ve lost my appetite,” I lied, forcing a polite tone. “Something very important just came up at school. I really have to run. Bye!”
I didn’t wait for their response. I practically fled into the living room, snatched my backpack, and hurried out of the flat, marching all the way back to the Churchill University campus. By the time I found my best friend in the corridor, I was practically vibrating with chaotic energy.
Suzanne Winters stopped dead in her tracks, staring at me with a mix of utter disbelief and mild sarcasm as I finished recounting the disaster.
“So, let me get this straight,” Suzy asked, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow as we walked toward our classroom. “Aunt Charlotte found herself a hot, loaded sugar daddy?”
“Yeah, basically,” I muttered, gripping my backpack straps tighter.
“Marty, your taste in men is genuinely terrifying,” Suzy groaned, shaking her head. “There are dozens of blokes our age practically begging to take you out on a date, and yet you remain exclusively obsessed with older, mature men. But your mum’s future husband? That is a new low, even for you.”
