The estate is quiet.
Everyone’s gone for the bachelor party except me and Victor my soon-to-be father-in-law.
I’m in the study looking for the seating chart when he walks in, closing the door with a soft click that feels final.
He’s in a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, top buttons open, showing salt-and-pepper chest hair.
Slacks hugging thick thighs and an obvious bulge.
“You shouldn’t be alone the night before your wedding, Lila,” he says, voice low, dangerous.
His eyes rake over my body in the tight white rehearsal dress short, low-cut, clinging to every curve.
I open my mouth to answer, but he’s already crossing the room.
He grabs my waist, spins me, and bends me over the mahogany desk in one brutal motion.
My palms slap the wood; my dress rides up, exposing lace panties.
