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Victoria's black velvet stockings had a subtle matte sheen, lending her an air of refined elegance that perfectly matched her poised demeanor. I was lost in the feel of them, my hands lingering a bit too long.
She must've sensed something off. Her hand came down sharply on my head. "Get up, Alex! What's with you today?"
Reluctantly, I released her legs, trying to stand, but my knees buckled from kneeling so long, and I collapsed back down with a thud.
Victoria blinked, then laughed softly. "What's this? It's not even a holiday, and you're bowing like it's a ceremony? Where's my gift?"
Seizing the moment, I leaned into it, pressing my forehead to the floor dramatically. "Thank you, Stepmom, for raising me!"
"You're ridiculous!" She nudged me with her pointed heel, the jab stinging but oddly thrilling. "Get up already."
"Help me," I said, extending a hand. She hesitated, then grabbed it, pulling me up with a gentle tug.
She sat on the bed, patting the spot beside her. "Come here."
Her expression had softened, the storm of her anger fading. I knew what was coming—a heartfelt lecture. Bracing myself, I sat down.
She ran her fingers through my hair, her voice gentle. "Alex, I'm not saying you can't date. But you're a senior. This is a make-or-break year. You get that, right?"
"I know," I said, nodding obediently.
"Then focus on your studies. Please."
Her eyes were warm, almost pleading, but I knew crossing her now would unleash a fury I didn't want to face. "I'm trying, Mom," I said. "Really hard. I'm top ten in my class."
"Top ten in class, but top hundred in your grade," she countered. "Your school's not exactly elite. With those grades, a decent college is a stretch."
I sighed, closing my eyes and nodding, feigning dedication.
Her tone softened further. "I've been too busy with work, letting things slide with you. But from now on, we're doubling down for the college entrance exams."
"I'm already sprinting," I said, forcing a grin. "I'm buried in practice tests every day. I just… take breaks with Lily sometimes to unwind."
Her face hardened, a flicker of frost returning. I backpedaled fast. "But that's done. No more distractions. From now on, it's all books, all the time. Sound good?"
She touched my forehead, smiling faintly. "That's my boy. And no more messing with those stamps. I'm holding onto them."
"What?" I shot up. "My stamps?"
"Not confiscated," she said calmly. "Just keeping them safe for now."
"Those are my treasures!" I protested, clutching my chest. "My lifeblood!"
Her smile vanished. "You're my lifeblood, Alex. Why's it so hard for you to focus?"
"They're just stamps," I pleaded. "They don't mess with my studying. Please?"
"You were serious for two seconds," she said, deadpan. "Hand them over before I search for them myself. Then they're gone for good."
Pouting, I grabbed a stamp album from the bookshelf and handed it over. It was the least valuable one—my real treasures were safely hidden, not from her, but from Bella, the little thief.
Victoria flipped through it, clueless about their worth, then closed it. She stood, ruffling my hair. "Good boy. Study hard."
"Progress every day," I said with a mock salute.
"That's the spirit." She left the room, and I collapsed onto the bed, exhaling. I'd survived—for now. I worried about Lily, but with my phone gone, I couldn't reach her. Going to her place was too risky, so I'd have to wait for school.
By noon, Victoria poked her head in. "Get up. We're eating out."
It was the usual routine: a scolding, a lecture, then a treat. Classic carrot-and-stick.
She changed into a white lace blouse, a khaki trench coat, a black knee-length skirt, and sheer nude stockings that blended seamlessly with her skin. Her black matte boots clicked sharply, and her usual updo was replaced by a loose side ponytail. With sunglasses perched on her nose and a Prada bag in hand, she transformed from corporate powerhouse to chic urban mom.
As we left, she paused. "Where's Bella?"
"Said she went to the movies," I replied honestly.
Victoria muttered something, typing on her phone. I figured she was texting Bella to join us, but knowing my stepsister, she'd probably ditched us.
We took a cab to our favorite Western restaurant, where the veal steak was divine. But Victoria spent the meal nagging about my studies. I nodded along, chewing, letting her words slide off me like the sauce on my plate.
As we finished, a man's voice called out, "Victoria!" Two suited middle-aged men approached, smiling. She startled, then flashed a professional smile. "Mr. Larson, what a surprise."
"Small world," the man with glasses said, chuckling. "We see each other at work daily, and now here on my day off." He glanced at me. "Your brother?"
Victoria laughed, covering her mouth. "No, this is my stepson, Alex."
"Wow, he's grown!" Mr. Larson said, surprised. "I thought he was still in elementary school, the way you talk about his antics."
I bowed slightly. "Nice to meet you, sir."
"Polite kid," Mr. Larson said, then gestured to the man behind him. "This is Mr. Carter from Westside, our new partner. Victoria, meet James Carter."
James, a flat-topped man, smiled warmly at her. Victoria returned the smile, nodding. "We're actually old classmates."
"No kidding?" Mr. Larson said. "Haven't seen each other in, what, ten years?"
"More like fifteen," James corrected, still smiling.
"Perfect!" Mr. Larson said. "Let's grab a table, catch up."
"Another time," Victoria said smoothly. "I've got plans with Alex this afternoon."
Mr. Larson nodded. "Fair enough. Soon, then."
After quick goodbyes, we left. I grinned at her. "You were so smooth back there, Mom. Total boss vibe."
She shot me a look. "Flattery won't help. I'm a professional at work, but you turn me into a nagging housewife."
I gave a thumbs-up. "You're a queen at both. Gorgeous, sharp—Dad's lucky to have you. I'm gonna find a wife just like you someday."
She snorted. "What happened to Lily being the love of your life?"
"Lily's great," I said, backtracking, "but she's got nothing on you."
She rolled her eyes. "Enough. So, you and this James guy—classmates, huh?"
"Yeah," she said casually. "What about it?"
"He was looking at you… weirdly."
She glanced at me. "Weird how?"
I hesitated, not wanting to say I'd caught the same hungry glint in his eyes that I got around women in stockings. "Just… off," I mumbled.
She paused, then said, "He was a year above me in school. Chased me for a while."
"Did you say yes?" I asked, feigning shock. "Wait, his eyes kinda look like mine. Am I secretly his kid?"
She swatted my head. "You and your nonsense."
"Why'd you turn him down? He's not bad-looking. Maybe even sharper than Dad."
"Looks aren't everything," she said. "He was a jerk. Got a younger girl pregnant in school and pressured her to get rid of it."
"Wow, total sleaze," I said.
She stopped, giving me a wry smile. "Why am I even telling you this?"
"Gossip's bonding," I said, grinning. "Science says so."
"We're bonded enough," she said, smirking. "I'd rather you give me some space."
Before I could reply, a familiar figure caught my eye in the crowd. My stepfather, David, with a teenage girl clinging to his arm, her head on his shoulder, their closeness unmistakable. My stomach dropped.
Panicking, I pointed in the opposite direction. "Hey, isn't that… that actor guy?"
Victoria squinted. "Who?"
"You know, the one who plays emperors on TV," I said, scrambling to distract her.
"Which one? The historical drama guy?" She kept looking, confused. "Where?"
I glanced back—David and the girl were gone. "My bad," I said, forcing a laugh. "Wrong guy."
She rolled her eyes. "You're wasting my time."
All the way home, my mind churned. Who was that girl with David? Bella's words from this morning echoed—his recent secrecy, his odd behavior. Was this connected?
Back at the house, Victoria bent to slip off her boots. "What's with you?" she asked. "You've been moping since the restaurant. Someone owe you money?"
I couldn't tell her about David—not yet, not without proof. "Just tired," I lied, kicking off my shoes and heading to the bathroom.
When I came out, I thought I heard her call me from her bedroom. I opened the door, asking, "What'd you say?"
I froze. Victoria stood with her back to me, her coat, blouse, and skirt discarded. She was unhooking her violet lace bra, her pale skin glowing in the soft light. Her shoulders were delicate, her back smooth, her waist narrow—no trace of middle-age softness. The sheer nude stockings clung to her curves, her dark underwear faintly visible beneath, a striking blend of mystery and allure.
She was halfway through saying, "Bella's gonna be mad we went for steak without her. Run to the store and grab some—" when she turned, catching me staring. Grabbing a shirt to cover herself, she snapped, "What are you gawking at?"
I grinned, recovering. "Just a fairy gracing the earth."
She snatched a makeup bottle from the dresser and lobbed it at me. "Out!"
I ducked out, closing the door, but the image of her lingered, vivid and unshakable.