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BOOK ONE: DADDY'S GOOD GRACES.
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2025-01-14 08:06:43Anastasia Sturm has never felt more wanted by any man until she met him.
Nate Jackson.
Hot. Empathetic. Kind. With a sweet tongue to boot. He tells her he's beautiful, protects her when he needs to, praises her to high heavens too. He lifts her spirits. Makes her feel wanted, and fills in the void in her heart no one else can fill.
If she could marry Nate, she would.
But Nate is forbidden.
Why? He's her boyfriend's father.
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1 - Anastasia.
“What have you got there, Anna?”
I look up late to see Mom entering the room, and Dad trailing behind her. Quickly, with the speed of light, I snap my laptop shut and give them an awkward grin, which makes Mom snort, and Dad’s brows knit tightly together. “Have you been updating that gossip column of yours again?”
I suppress an eye-roll. “Um...”
“Don’t lie to us, Anastasia,” Dad says gruffly, his hands folded across his chest as he frowns at me deeply. I wasn’t expecting him to come to check up on me tonight. He rarely steps into my room, and even now he looks out of place. “You’ve been spreading rumors again on that blog, haven’t you?”
“They’re not rumors,” I say calmly, a last-ditch effort to save myself. I know I’m failing anyway. It’s Dad after all. “They are news from credible outlets which I just happen to —”
“I don’t want to hear anything about that. You should be studying. Anything is better than spending so much time online.”
“Honey,” Mom coos.
“You’re the one doing the damage to her,” he turns to face her now, his face red with anger. “You let her get away with things like this one too many times. Look at us. Look at our condition. She’s our saving grace. That’s why I pay the tuition fees and get the textbooks she needs. Because she’s the only redemption this family’s got. And what do I get for my efforts? Idling away online, talking about people who don’t and won’t give a hoot about us.”
With that he storms out, raising hell as he goes. Mom is equally as shaken up as I am, and I scoot over when she plops down on the bed. She lets out an exhale and glares at me. “You promised, Anna. I’m so disappointed.”
I hang my head in shame. I hate letting down my mother. You see, running a popular gossip blog or owning a column about the latest trends and celebrity news on the papers has been a long-time passion of mine. I have a unique flair for putting out even the most horrifying news in a witty way, and it has won me a lot of fans and subscribers on my YouTube channel. Of course, I’ve never revealed my true identity while at it, though. That would get my father even more furious, having a throng of fans and paparazzi besieging our home.
I’d hoped my parents would be encouraging, or at least tolerant, until I got to realize that wasn’t what they wanted for me at all. We’re not wealthy. Mom works as an elementary school teacher at this privately-owned school just down the street and gets paid a paltry amount at the end of the month which is enough to take care of our rent and pay half of our rent. The other half is made up by my father who’s a telecommunication agent. So, you see, funds are tight, and even if Mom isn’t as dismissive of my dreams as Dad is, I know she’ll be happier if I become a doctor. Or excel at business. Bring in money her and Dad were never lucky enough to make.
“I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t be mad at him,” she says softly, taking my hands in his. “He means well, but has a bad way of showing it. Never doubt his love for you.”
I don’t know if Dad and I will ever work our issues out, but I’m not going to give my mom cause to worry. So, I try to smile as genuinely as I can. “Okay mom.”
She smiles too, but the sadness still remains in her eyes as she stands. “We’re going out now to get some groceries. Are you still meeting up with Emerson tonight?”
I bite my bottom lip, glancing at my phone. “If he gets back to me on time, sure.”
“Oh, dear. You’re spending the night at his place?”
“Yeah. But we’ll first stop at a bar or something. Then head home together.”
“That’s sweet. Remember, no drinking even if you’re already nineteen,” she wags a finger in warning, then poke my side. “Now go find something better to wear. I don’t want you looking a mess. That man is so goddamn fine, so he deserves an actual effort on your part.”
I laugh; my chest hollow. The butterflies I’m meant to feel are non-existent, but I smile to make Mom happy. She smiles back, pats my back, then head out front to meet Dad who’s done ranting his head off. Just then my phone lights up with a text.
Emerson: Hey, babe. Would’ve been there by now, but Dad is with me. He’s been taking hours getting ready. I told him it’s just a date, and you’re sleeping over.
I guffaw as I type out a reply.
Me: What did you do that made him insist on bringing you to my place?
Emerson: I don’t know, babe. He’s so nosy.
Me: Still better than mine.
I don’t know if Mom is genuinely happy with my relationship because she really likes Emerson and thinks he’s cool, or because of his pocket. Emerson’s family is loaded. I’m not kidding. They’re among the top five richest in this city, and my family...well, we’re at the bottom of the chain. But is wealth enough reason to be with a guy? I mean, I’d give anything to have my own money. I intend working hard once I’m done with school. But if it were up to Mom, I’d be married to Emerson tomorrow and his stay-at-home wife at the end of the year. She won’t even mind if I give up my education for that.
But the truth is, my relationship with Emerson is not as rosy as she thinks. As anyone who knows about us thinks. I’ve always known that there were cracks in it, but never really paid attention until lately when they became obvious. It’s not that he’s stopped loving me, no. The love is there. But it’s less vibrant than before. It’s faded, like a worn-out carpet. Now his kisses feel hasty, his texts come in later than usual, and he’s stopped opening doors for me and sending presents. If we’re texting, it feels forced. Like he’s busy and wants to get away quickly.
I can’t even remember when last he said those three big words to me. He used to say them every night before, and now it feels like he’s never said them at all.
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Wait, what!? That’s what I want to say, but I’m not about to get into a verbal argument with him in front of his guests. Instead, I communicate with him with my eyes.Are you kidding? I ask.No, he replies. Do as I say.I feel Victor and Michail’s eyes on me. They’re waiting to see what I’m going to do. If I refuse, I’ll make Gunsyn look weak in front of them.Do it, he says, his eyes narrowing.He loves telling me what to do. I can see it in the way he’s looking at me. And to be honest, what’s the big deal anyway? It’s not like he hasn’t already had me once, and he’s definitely going to have me again. And if I just do this now, it will probably make things easier for me later on. But if I am going to do it, I’m not just going to do it; I’m going to make a show of it.“Of course,” I say with a seductive hum to my voice before spinning on my heels so my curves are on full display for Victor and Michail. I’m suddenly conscious of my back, my waist, my butt, and the way they look in thes
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Kiss It Better 12 - Irene.
“Stockholm syndrome,” I say to myself as I examine one of the dresses. “That’s all it is. Perfectly natural. Just like coming on a strange, evil man’s cock. Don’t be too hard on yourself, Irene.”Uh huh. Sure.The dress is well-made, soft and flowy, and would probably look incredible on someone not me. But I try it on anyway. In fact, I try on everything while I’m alone for the rest of the afternoon, and by the time I’m finished, I’m pretty sure I can’t wear any of it. I’m not good at making decisions anyway, but when it comes to something like this, I’m hopeless.“The red one,” Gunsyn says, startling me again as he comes in behind me. “It will go well with your hair.”“My hair that you don’t like?”“When did I say I don’t like it?” He smiles. He approaches me, and I hate myself for being relieved that he’s here. At least I’m not completely alone now, and I’m pretty sure, judging by the look in his eyes, that he’s not about to repeat what he did to me yesterday. He leans down and pick
