The silk tie in my hand felt like a velvet noose. It was a deep, midnight blue the exact color of James's eyes when he was disappointed in me. I ran my thumb over the fabric, the price tag staring back at me with a number that could have paid for my first three years of college.
"What do you buy a man who could buy this entire department store and the city block it sits on?" I muttered, my voice sounding small against the marble floors and the hushed, elitist silence of the boutique.
"Something he can't buy for himself," Daisy whispered. She was leaning against a glass display of watches, her eyes dancing with a type of mischief that made my stomach do a slow, painful flip. "Like a little bit of rebellion, Anna. Or... a date with someone who doesn't care about his stock portfolio."
"He's my stepfather, Daisy. Stop it," I snapped. The word stepfather felt heavy, like a shield I was trying to hold up with shaking hands.
I wasn't just angry at her; I was angry at the truth. For years, James Reynolds was the steady anchor in my life. He was the guy who stayed when my mother decided that motherhood didn't fit her lifestyle and walked out when I was seven. He was the one who taught me how to change a tire, the one who sat through every boring school play, and the one who looked my first boyfriend in the eye and told him he'd better have me home by eleven or else.
But that was the "Old James." The James who drove a dusty SUV and worked sixty-hour weeks in a cramped office.
Three months ago, James sold his tech company for billions. Overnight, the man who used to share pizza with me on the couch vanished. He was replaced by a titan. A billionaire who traded our cozy suburban home for a glass-and-steel mansion that felt more like a museum than a house. Now, he wore suits that cost more than my tuition and carried an aura of power so thick it was hard to breathe when he entered a room.
"I'm just saying," Daisy shrugged, checking her reflection in the glass. "He's thirty-eight, Anna. He's in the prime of his life, he's gorgeous, and according to Forbes, he's the most eligible bachelor in the city. The 'step' part of your 'stepdad' title is starting to look real thin to everyone else. Especially since your mom hasn't been in the picture for over a decade. There's no blood, no marriage... just a lot of history."
"Drop it. Now," I warned, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
I couldn't explain it to her. I couldn't tell her that lately, when James looked at me, I didn't feel like a daughter. I felt like prey. And the worst part? I wasn't sure I wanted to run.
*********
My phone vibrated in my pocket, a sharp, demanding buzz. I pulled it out, my breath catching when I saw the name on the screen.
James: The car is outside. Don't be late for the gala tonight, Anna. It's a big night for the firm. Be ready in ten.
No "hope you're having fun shopping." No "see you soon." Just a cold, calculated order. It was a reminder that I was no longer a person to him; I was an asset. An extension of his brand.
"He's here," I said, my voice tight. "I have to go."
"Duty calls the Princess of Tech," Daisy joked, but she saw the look on my face and softened. "Hey, Anna? Just... be careful. You look like you're heading to an execution, not a party."
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
As I stepped out of the air-conditioned boutique and into the humid city air, I saw the black Rolls Royce idling at the curb. It looked like a shark waiting in shallow water. The driver's side door stayed shut, which was unusual. Normally, Marcus would be out in a second to open the door for me.
I pulled the heavy rear door open myself. The interior of the car was a sanctuary of leather and silence. The air was thick with the scent of expensive sandalwood, cedar, and something uniquely him.
My breath hitched. James wasn't at the office. He was sitting in the back seat, his long legs crossed, a tablet glowing in his hand. He didn't look up as I climbed in and the door closed with a soft, expensive thud that seemed to lock out the rest of the world.
"You're late," he said. His voice was a low, melodic rumble that I felt in my bones more than I heard in my ears.
"I was looking for your birthday gift," I replied, sliding as far toward the window as the seat would allow. My heart was a trapped bird in my chest. "I couldn't find anything you'd actually like. You have everything."
Finally, he turned his head. He didn't look at my face first. His eyes tracked from my shoes, up my legs, lingering on the hem of my skirt before finally meeting my gaze. His eyes weren't the warm, protective eyes of the man who helped me with my math homework. They were dark, predatory, and entirely too focused on my lips.
"Then you weren't looking hard enough," he said, his voice dropping an octave. He leaned across the center console, invading my space until I was pressed against the door. "Because I know exactly what I want for my birthday, Anna. And it isn't sold in a store."
He reached out, his thumb grazing my jawline, sending a jolt of electricity through me that made my toes curl.
"James..." I whispered, a warning and a plea all at once.
"Is that a 'no', Anna?" He tilted his head, his smirk cold and devastatingly handsome. "Because you've always been such a good girl for me. Why stop now?"
The car pulled away from the curb, merging into the sea of city lights. For the first time in nineteen years, I didn't feel safe with the man who raised me. I felt like I was being driven straight into a fire, and for some terrifying reason, I was ready to burn.