He rises to the challenge, thrusting balls deep, and I swear, just one more inch and I’d feel him in my fucking throat. He spanks me again and I groan, pushing back against him and taking everything he’s got like the perfect greedy whore.

  I take all of him, and just as I feel that familiar tightening deep in my core, warning me what’s to come, the fire alarm blasts through the mansion and water rains down over me. “Oh shit,” I gasp, realizing it’s the fire sprinklers.

  I go to push up from the desk but Tanner holds me down. “Oh, no you don’t,” he mutters, a deep growl in his tone, only fucking me harder.

  My face drops back against the desk, and I look back over my shoulder, watching him as he fucks me, dripping wet from the sprinklers, and good God, it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. The alarm continues to wail, and I don’t doubt this place will be crawling with firemen in less than two minutes, but we won’t even need one.

  It builds and builds, becoming more intense by the second, and every thrust of his thick cock deep inside me only makes me want to scream. He doesn’t relent, giving it to me just right, and as my walls clench around him, he pushes me right over the edge. “Oh, fuck,” I cry, my pussy shattering into a million pieces.

  My eyes clench and my knees go weak, feeling my orgasm tearing through my body. “So. Fucking. Tight,” Tanner grunts each word as my pussy convulses around him.

  He thrusts into me one more time, coming hard and shooting his hot cum deep inside me, making me feel like the most desired woman on the planet.

  My orgasm still wreaks the sweetest havoc over my body just as the office door whips open and I find both Jensen and Damien staring at us. My eyes widen but I can’t fucking move, not unless I want Tanner’s cum dripping out of me in front of my brother.

  “Oh hey there,” I say awkwardly, watching as they take in the scene before them—the fire, the smoke, the sprinklers, and us.

  Damien looks as though he’s about to tear Tanner in half, but Jensen just shakes his head and presses his lips into a hard line. “Why am I not surprised?” he questions before turning his gaze on Tanner. “Once you’ve blown your load, you should probably think about getting out of here. You know, smoke inhalation and all that.”

  Tanner nods and just like that, Jensen reaches back in, grips the door handle, and pulls it closed like the perfect gentleman, leaving his new stepsister to continue getting railed.

  Chapter 32

  SARA

  A lifetime of memorabilia spills from overturned boxes across the bedroom floor—the bedroom I used to share with the love of my life. A photo of us when we were young and inseparable catches my eye, and I take another swig of wine to wash away the taste of his deceit.

  I’ve been searching for hours through every family photo, every souvenir keychain, and every letter Trenton lovingly wrote in our first few years of marriage. I need to find the moment everything went wrong, the moment he stopped looking at me like I hung the moon. The moment the lies began.

  It feels like my entire world is on fire.

  Trenton wasn’t just having an affair; he had a whole family. A wife, children—everything sacred between us, he had with another woman.

  A tiny pair of white baby booties stare up at me from the bottom of an empty box, and my heart falls to the floor. Our babies. Even if he didn’t love me anymore, how could he do this to them?

  Tanner and Addie have gone without, their father absent while he doted on his new wife and children, leaving them to fend for themselves through the hardest year imaginable. While Addison lay comatose in the hospital, recovering from a violent rape, Trenton was taking his daughter to play dates, and while Addison was coming to terms with her rapist walking free, Trenton was hiring a babysitter so he could wine and dine his new wife.

  I’ve never felt so foolish. Twenty-three years of marriage just washed away. How am I ever supposed to trust again?

  Letting out a sigh, I try to focus on sorting Trent’s shit into three piles: claim as my own, mail to the sorry bastard, and burn in a fiery pit of hell. So far, the fiery pit of hell pile is looking pretty full.

  When the well of tears inside me has finally run dry, I push the empty box aside and grab another, tipping it upside down unceremoniously. An old phone falls out, and the screen cracks as it tumbles over twenty-three years of junk. There are things in these boxes I haven’t seen or thought about in years, and while some come with fond memories, the rest just leaves me aching.

  The longer I stare at the old iPhone, the more foreign it looks. Trenton has always been a Samsung user, and the phone definitely never belonged to me. I scoop it up and turn it over in my hand, pressing the power button and holding it down for a moment. The Apple logo appears on the screen, sending a rush of relief coursing through my veins, but not even a second later, the screen goes black again.

  Letting out a heavy sigh, I toss the phone to the side. That’ll have to be a job for another day. It needs one of the old Apple chargers, and I can guarantee I don’t have one of those hanging out in a drawer anymore.

  A soft knock sounds at my bedroom door as I’m shoving yet another armful of crap into the burn pile, not even bothering to look over the contents. My brows furrow as I glance up. “Come in,” I say slowly, wondering who the hell that could be. After all, neither of my children have ever knocked on my door in their life. They prefer the more subtle approach of just barging right in.

  The door opens and Brielle’s face appears in my room. “Hey, sorry. I was just wondering if you had a second?” she questions hesitantly before scanning over the array of crap before me. “I can come back if now isn’t a good time.”

  “Oh no, sweetheart,” I say, trying to force a welcoming smile across my face but it feels so fake. “Come in.”

  She presses her lips into a tight line, and as she steps into my room and closes the door behind her, I see something in her eyes. Whatever this is, it’s hard for her.

  Brielle walks across my room as I get to my feet and step out of the pile of crap. I can’t help but notice papers in her hand, and for some reason, it puts me on edge. “How can I help you, darling?” I ask, offering her a seat at the end of my bed.

  She cringes as she sits down, looking up at me sadly. “I think it’s more about how I can help you.” I arch a brow, but the reluctance in her tone suggests this isn’t anything I actually want help with. “Umm, yesterday,” she says, visibly swallowing. “I kinda broke into Orlando’s office and found some things I thought you should have.”

  I pull back in surprise. “Me?” I question. “Are you sure? I’ve had nothing to do with Orlando, only my children.”

  “I know,” she murmurs. “Which is why I found this so … strange.”

  Brielle hands me the papers, and as I skim over them, my brows furrow. “What is this?” I question, never having seen these papers in my life.

  “They’re your divorce papers,” she tells me at the same moment I see both my name and Trenton’s printed across the paper. “They were signed and dated seven years ago.”

  My gaze snaps up in horror. “What?” I breathe, flipping through the pages. “That’s impossible. We’re still married.” Brielle gives me a tight smile as I reach the final page, finding my signature along with Trenton’s. Only it’s not my signature at all; it’s been forged.

  I gasp, pain slicing through my chest as though someone is physically shoving their hand through my body and squeezing my heart with a death grip. “How … how is this possible?” I whisper as tears begin to well in my eyes.

  Brielle reaches across and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Judging by everything else I found in his office, it’s clear Orlando is a very dirty lawyer. I can only assume Trenton hired him to make this happen without your consent. I found a ledger mixed in with all the papers I stole from his safe, and there was a big payment from your husband around the same time those papers were signed. I can’t pretend I know what it costs to file divorce papers, but lawyer fees for something like that definitely shouldn’t be that high.”

  I drop the papers into my lap and place my hand over my mouth to keep from sobbing in front of this sweet girl. “Thank you for bringing this to me, Brielle,” I whisper, realizing this was how he was able to get away with marrying this other woman in Australia.

  She awkwardly stands and gives me a tight smile, though the heartbreak in her eyes only makes it harder to meet her gaze. “For what it’s worth,” she says, “I handed everything I found over to the police yesterday, including proof that Orlando messed with the results from Addie’s rape kit, so he’ll be going away for a very long time.”

  My eyes widen just a fraction in disbelief. “What about Tanner?” I question, my heart still so broken after discovering what he’d been involved with as a fourteen-year-old boy. “Were you able to find the hard copies of those … photographs?”

  Brielle nods. “Yeah, I found them and Tanner destroyed them, but I still think he needs to come clean about what happened that day.”

  “As do I,” I tell her. “But it’s in his hands now, and I need to trust that he’ll do the right thing.”

  Brielle smiles. “I’m sure he will.”

  With that, she starts to walk back to the door, but a thought occurs to me. I reach down and scoop up the old iPhone off the carpet. “Brielle, sweetheart,” I say, glancing up as she stops and looks back at me. “Would you do me a favor and ask Tanner if he has one of the old iPhone chargers for this? I found it in a box of Trenton’s things, and considering everything else I’ve discovered about the man, I feel it’s in my best interest to see what else he has kept from me.”

  “Oh, sure,” she says, walking back and taking the phone from me before quickly flipping it over to check what the charging port in the bottom looks like. “I, uhh … I think I might actually have one of these. I’ll have to double-check, but for some reason, Mom used to keep a box of old chargers and cords that never actually fit any of our devices. I’ll sneak back in and see what I can find.”

  I give her a fond smile. “How are things with your mom?”

  Brielle shrugs her shoulders. “Who knows?” she mutters, a real sadness in her eyes. “The things she’s had to put herself through over the past few months to protect me from him … I can’t even tell you how much that kills me, but despite all of that, I still feel so angry with her.”

  “Oh, honey,” I say, pulling her into a quick hug. “Everything is going to work out for the best. It’s completely normal to feel angry. She pushed you away, and even if her intentions were good, it still hurts. It’s perfectly fine for you to take your time healing.”

  Bri hastily wipes at her eyes before pulling back and giving me another tight smile. “Thanks,” she murmurs, before holding up the phone. “I’ll see if I can get this working for you.”

  And with that, she’s gone.

  An hour later, I make my way downstairs with an empty bottle of wine, knowing all too well that if I’m going to make it through the next ten years of memorabilia, I’m going to need to start fresh on a new bottle.

  Making my way to the kitchen, I stop to find Tanner and Brielle slaving over the hot stove, and my gaze snaps to the clock. I suck in a horrified breath. “Oh my goodness, dinner!” I rush out. “I completely lost track of time. I’m so sorry. Go sit down, I’ll finish up.”

  Tanner shakes his head. “It’s fine, Mom. We’ve got it under control. Sit down and relax.”

  I gape at my son. Who the hell is this stranger standing in my kitchen? Though, I suppose that’s a bit of an unfair comment. Ever since Addie was hurt, Tanner has really stepped up to become the man of this house. He was there in my darkest times and kept my chin up when I thought about giving up. He’s really been my rock over the past few months.

  “I—”

  “Don’t even think about arguing,” Tanner mutters just as he takes the vegetables off the steamer and nearly drops them, pulling a face before pretending everything is cool.

  I roll my eyes and reluctantly take a seat at the island counter. While they may have it under control, a little supervision wouldn’t go astray. I’m not familiar with Brielle’s abilities in the kitchen, however I’m more than familiar with my son’s, and it’s not a good mix.

  “Oh, hey,” Brielle says, putting down the spatula and crossing the kitchen. She unplugs the phone laying on the counter and hands it to me. “I managed to find a charger. It’s old and slow, but it’s doing the trick.”

  “Ahhh, thank you, sweetheart,” I say, dropping my attention to the phone as I hold down the power button. Just like before, it takes a few seconds before the Apple logo appears on the screen, but this time, the ancient device does what it’s supposed to do. It clearly hasn’t been used in a while and takes a little longer than my patience can handle, but the moment the home screen finally loads, I’m ready to dive in.

  My stomach twists with unease, but it’s now or never. If I truly want to learn my husband’s secrets, then this is how it’s going to happen. Though, I can’t see how it could possibly get any worse than secretly divorcing me and starting a new family across the planet.

  Letting out a shaky breath, my finger hovers over the photo gallery before finally mustering up the courage to press down. It opens to an array of images, each one more horrifying than the next. My husband with strippers, licking their bodies and snorting cocaine off their breasts. My husband at parties, hooking up with random women, drugs spread out on tables. There are dick pics and photos of other women in compromising positions, clearly images sent on request.

  Bile rises in my throat, but I keep looking, unable to stop until I come to a video of Trenton, holding the camera up as he screws some woman on a table. I exit out of it, the noises coming from the video making me want to die.

  Tanner meets my gaze over the top of the phone, and I simply shake my head, not wanting to hear whatever it is he has to say about this, though also not wanting to submit Brielle and Tanner to this filth. I exit out of the photo gallery, determined to revisit this when I’m alone.

  Instead, I move onto the text messages.

  My hands shake, but determination has a death grip on me, and I open it up to a slew of text messages from random women with names like Candy, Stacey, Tiffany, and Starlight. I’m trying not to gag when a name in the inbox draws my attention like a black hole in the sky.

  Rachael.

  “What in the ever-loving hell is this?” I mutter under my breath. The comment has Tanner whipping around from the stove to watch me with curiosity, but I pay him no attention, needing to see what the hell this is about.

  My stomach twists and clenches. The messages are dated from two years ago, and I pray this isn’t the same Rachael who’s the mother of Tanner’s child.

  I scroll up to the beginning of the conversation and start reading, each word like another knife right through my chest.

  Rachael - What am I going to do? Please, Trenton, you have to help me.

  Rachael - Answer me. This is just as much your problem as it is mine.

  Rachael - I didn’t get pregnant by myself you know. If you don’t do something about this, I’m telling everyone what you did.

  Trenton - Okay, alright. Settle down. Don’t go and make any rash decisions. We can figure this out. You’re only seventeen. No one can know about this. I’ll make an appointment and handle it.

  Rachael - Appointment? What for?

  Trenton - An abortion. You can’t have that baby.

  Rachael - Missed call.

  Rachael - Missed call.

  Rachael - Missed call.

  Rachael - WHAT DO YOU MEAN ABORTION? I’M NOT HAVING AN ABORTION! ANSWER ME!!! Sooner or later, people are going to realize I’m pregnant, and they’ll ask questions. What the hell am I supposed to say?

  Trenton - Stop calling me. You have to have an abortion. I’m not having this kid with you. You’re on your own, but if anyone finds out about this, you’ll regret it.

  Rachael - You’re not exactly in a position to threaten me, Trenton. I’m seventeen, remember. Underage. Pretty sure that’s considered rape in a court of law. And for the record, me and my boyfriend broke up, so you can’t use him as your scapegoat.

  Trenton - Fuck.

  Rachael - Missed call.

  There are a few more missed calls and a slew of raging texts from Rachael, and then finally a response from Trenton almost a week later.

  Trenton - Calm down. Here’s what you’re going to do. My son is going to a party tonight. His name is Tanner. Seduce him. Do whatever you have to do to fuck him. I don’t care how it happens, just do it.

  Rachael - That’s insane. I know of him. He’s barely sixteen. Are you really trying to pin this on your son? Besides, do you even know your son? He’s the most popular guy at Bradford. I’m some poor bitch in Hope Falls. He’s not going to fuck me. Not to mention, the dates won’t line up. I’m already eight weeks.

  Trenton - I’m not going down for this, Rachael. Just do it and don’t tell him you’re pregnant. I’ll give you some money to disappear for a while, long enough for the dates to be foggy in his mind, then hit him with it. Say it was born prematurely. Get him drunk enough he doesn’t remember what happened that night. There’ll be a paternity test, and as long as no one knows to look any deeper, the paternity test will confirm Tanner is the father.

  Rachael - What? That doesn’t make any sense. How will the test confirm Tanner is the father?

  Trenton - Because Tanner shares my DNA. A common paternity test will show mutual characteristics between the DNA and confirm Tanner’s DNA matches your child’s. They’ll only seek further testing if they know there’s a chance I could be the father. You can’t let that happen, Rachael. Tanner’s DNA is enough to bring a positive paternity result and put enough doubt in their minds to be believable. Do you understand me? Just stick to the plan and it’ll be fine.

  Rachael - This is ridiculous.