Claimed by my husband's son

NADIA

I opened my eyes and instantly regretted it.

My head hurt. Throbbing like it was about to blow.

Even the sunlight coming in from the windows wasn't enough to clear my foggy vision.

Then a sharp, pungent smell hit me.

I reeked of alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

“Ahh,” I groaned slightly. “I really shouldn't have drunk so much.” My fingers rubbed against my forehead as I tried to will the stampede happening in my head to a stop.

My eyes opened, looking around the room.

For a minute I didn't know where I was, then it hit me. I was in Elias room.

My gaze fell on a glass of water beside painkillers on the bedside table, and to the bathroom, where I could hear the sound of a running shower.

I looked back at the glass cup and reached for it. It's only fair for him to take care of me, seeing as he was the reason I was this wrecked in the first place.

Hearing your husband is intentionally bankrupting his company to fund the lifestyle of his mistress is news no woman ever wants to hear in her life.

But I'd heard it last night, and it had hit me so badly that I reached for a bottle of whiskey and drowned my sorrows at the bottom of the bottle.

I took a large sip of water and threw the painkillers into my mouth before gulping and flushing them down with more water.

I leaned back against the headboard and shut my eyes.

A scene played in my head, and I imagined how the confrontation with Elias would go. Would he admit it? Or would he lie to my face?

Maybe I could make him see reason…

My eyes snapped open. My blurry vision landed on the bathroom door, where the shower was still running.

Of course! This wasn't the time for me to mourn or grieve what our marriage could have been. It's time for me to show Elias what I'm capable of.

If I could prove to him that I could help him out of this bankruptcy, that he didn't need to be with that gold-digger…

A smile spread across my face as the plan grew into something beautiful and magical in my head.

Gently, I placed my feet on the floor, stood upright, and walked up to the bathroom, my hands gliding against the wall for support.

I reached for the doorknob and tilted it, glad to find it open.

I walked in, stared at the shower glass that was now clouded with steam.

I closed the door behind me and moved to the glass door, sliding it open.

Elias stood under the shower, his back turned to me, and my eyes roamed his body, staring at the defined muscles on his back, his broad shoulders, the lines leading to his perky ass.

You've always loved me being spontaneous, right? Well, here's something spontaneous for you.

I slid the door shut behind me, but before he could turn to face me, I covered the distance between us.

My hand went around his body, and my face pressed against his back.

My nightgown from last night soaking up quickly from the water dripping down his back.

“Elias,” I whispered, my hands drifting over his defined abs and V-line.

Since when did he feel so… fit?

“I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn't have spoken to you the way I did,” I began, one hand caressing his abdomen, and the other drifting lower. “I was just feeling hurt and didn't know how to deal with it.”

My hand moved to his hardness and caressed it softly.

I felt the moment he tensed against me. “Can't you see how much I really care about you?”

He was way too big, and even with both hands, I could barely grip the entire length of him.

Yet, I didn't stop.

My hands moved, striking him, rubbing my fingers against his tip, the water making it easier for my hand to glide over the length of him.

Feeling and hearing him respond to my touch made me smile.

“Give me a chance, just one. And I’ll show you that I'm much better than Chloe. I can give you everything she can't.”

Let me prove myself to you…

I pressed my lips against his back.

That's when he moved. The shower turned off, big hands covered mine where I was currently holding the object of his arousal.

His head angled as he gazed at me from over his shoulder, and his lips moved.

“What are you doing?”

Almost like thunder, his voice zapped through my hazy state, and my blurry vision cleared instantly.

I froze.

Too scared to breathe, hoping this was an illusion. But it wasn't.

The man in the bathroom wasn't Elias! It was Killian!

As if my brain had just processed the information, the reality of my current position suddenly hit me.

I jerked away from him, ran out of the bathroom—which I now realized was the guest room—and raced for my bedroom.

I rushed in, shut the door behind me, and sank to my knees.

I… I… I fondled my step-son’s dick!

My gaze fell to my trembling hands… the same ones that had just—

“But how could they look so alike?!” I asked aloud, my breathing erratic as I forced myself to my feet, coming face to face with my pale and mortified reflection in the mirror.

Thanks to the stupid alcohol I had drunk, I couldn't even tell my husband and his son apart!

I ran my hands through my hair. “Oh, what do I do? I can't face him! I'll die of embarrassment!”

But I have to face him. I have to apologize to him. I just harassed the man!

“For fuck's sake! Why didn't he say anything? He just stood there and took it!” I almost yanked my hair out of my head.

It's not like you gave him a chance to do so.

“Oh, just kill me. Kill me now.”

***

After pacing in my bedroom for what felt like hours, I finally got dressed for breakfast, ready to face Killian and hopefully apologize to him at the table if Elias wasn't there.

Like I'd predicted, Elias was absent, and only Killian sat at the dining table with a frown on his face. He looked upset.

Of course he is. His father's wife literally harassed him in his bathroom!

Fuck! I'm going to jail.

I swallowed, taking hesitant steps toward him.

He didn't look up, almost as if he didn't hear me. I covered the distance between us, standing a few steps away.

“K-Killian.”

His gaze met mine, and my confidence went to dust.

My eyes darted away, and my fingers played with the sides of my dress.

“I want to—”

“Here, take this,” he said, throwing a brown envelope on the dining table.

My goodness! He didn't even waste any time to sue me! I'm going to jail. I'm going to jail because I can't handle a little alcohol.

“I know I made a mistake, and I promise it wasn't intentional—”

“What are you on about?” He frowned.

“Don't file a complaint about me, please,” my teary gaze darted to the envelope. “I don't want to go to jail.”

“What the—Are you still drunk? My father told me to give that to you.”

I blinked. “Oh.”

Wiping my tears away, I reached for the envelope and tore open the seal.

I pulled out the document inside, and my stomach dropped.

“Divorce papers?!”