10. Zara
ZARA
D inner at the Kingsley mansion felt like stepping into a lion’s den.
The weight of pretense hung thick in the air, every interaction steeped in power plays and unspoken rules.
The sprawling dining room, with its glimmering chandeliers and long, polished table, was nothing short of suffocating.
The walls seemed to close in with every passing second, the luxury of it all mocking the tight knot of anxiety in my chest.
Sterling, ever the commanding presence, was at my side, his hand resting possessively at the small of my back as he led me to the table.
He didn’t ask if I wanted his help, he simply acted, pulling out my chair and waiting until I sat.
His dark skin gleamed under the warm light, his tailored suit hugging his muscular frame with precision.
The dark gray fabric was sharp, but it was the blue vest that stood out, making his eyes gleam with an intensity that had my stomach twisting in knots.
I couldn’t deny that Sterling was a stunning man.
His sharp jawline, neatly trimmed beard, and the quiet confidence he exuded, could make anyone pause.
But the way he used his presence to control and manipulate eclipsed any attraction for me he might have felt.
The way his eyes followed me wasn’t admiration, it was ownership.
As the first course was served, Sterling made himself the center of attention, his voice calm and commanding as he turned to my father.
“John, I’ve been meaning to ask. What prompted the sudden decision to remarry?
” His tone was casual, but there was a sharpness to his words, a predator’s interest lurking beneath the surface.
John stiffened, his fork pausing midway to his mouth. “It was time,” he said simply, his tone dismissive. “The timing worked out and Zee-” he corrected himself, glancing at me, “Zara needed stability. A proper family environment.”
Sterling tilted his head, his smirk faint but growing. “Interesting. And the merger with the Johnston family’s holdings? Was that part of the stability?”
My stepmother, ever the opportunist, jumped in with a laugh. “Sterling, dear, you make it sound so calculated. John and I fell in love. It was natural.”
“Naturally,” Sterling echoed, his gaze flicking to me briefly before returning to her. “And that John’s finances were in shambles?”
“Sterling,” my father snapped, his tone warning. “That’s enough.”
But Sterling wasn’t deterred. “I’m simply curious. After all, The Kingsley Family Trust values transparency, doesn’t it?”
The tension was palpable, and I sank deeper into my chair, wishing I could disappear. Sterling’s hand found its way to my thigh under the table, his grip unyielding. My breath hitched as his fingers brushed against my skin, the casual way he invaded my space infuriating.
“Sterling,” my stepmother said with a forced smile. “Let’s not spoil dinner with business talk. Tonight is about family.”
Sterling leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening. “Of course. Family.” His hand squeezed my thigh before finally retreating, and I exhaled quietly, the tension in my body momentarily easing.
The conversation shifted, but I could feel Sterling’s eyes on me, his gaze heavy and invasive. I focused on my plate, pushing the food around with little interest. The weight of his attention made it impossible to think clearly.
As the main course arrived, my father turned to me, his expression stern. “Zara, we need to discuss your education.”
I looked up, startled. “My education?”
“It’s time you return to Saint Bipal University,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “It’s the best option for someone in your position.”
“N-no,” I blurted, my eyes widening in astonishment. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. I was just spiraling.
“Excuse me?” The man, who was a sorry excuse for a father, growled at me and Sterling straightened.
“I think that is a wonderful idea, John, and I know The Family would fully support it.” His tone brooked no argument.
I tried to figure out the dynamic now. Sterling wasn’t the King yet, he was almost there, but my father had no power. Why would he need to ask The Kingsley Family Trust for permission for anything, especially something regarding me?
“Right,” John cleared his throat. “I’ll have a driver take you to and from campus on Monday, Zara. Your enrollment was already handled after the wedding.”
Sterling cut in before I could speak. “No. I’ll provide a driver. My business meetings are at the same campus complex, and it would be careless not to extend The Family’s service to her.”
I almost chuckled, as Sterling put my father in his place, but then I realized I would be alone in a car with him, and I didn’t want that. We would have a driver, but how would they help save me from a monster like him?
Before I could beg my father for an alternative, Sterling’s hand squeezed my thigh so tightly and unexpectedly that I let out a small squeak. That gained me the attention of his mother, who fixed her hawk gaze on me.
“Are you alright, dear?” Even though she smiled, her words had a bit of a bite to them. I nodded, and went still as I felt Sterling’s hand slide higher, until it was underneath my dress. He moved my panties to the side as I reached a shaky hand toward my drink.
I didn’t want to gain anyone’s attention by trying to force his hand away from my body. I sipped on my water, my glass trembling in my hand, while the men spoke about some topic I didn’t understand.
I barely noticed Sterling’s mother getting up to yell at a servant, who spilled a bit of wine on the tablecloth. My eyes crossed as his thumb brushed over my clit. I tried to clench my legs, but he pried them open.
His hand was like a magician’s, as he played my body like a fiddle. Throughout each course he ramped up his fingering, all while he spoke to my father with a smile on his face. A demon wearing a man’s skin. That was what Sterling became in this moment.
At long last, after being edged for almost twenty-five minutes, the last course came out. I breathed a sigh of relief but, before I could reach for the right fork, Sterling shoved three fingers as deep as they could go within me.
With a bite to my lip, I held back the long suffering moan I wanted to let out.
Sterling leaned over and whispered in my ear. “You are soaking my hand, hummingbird. Does this naughty pussy need to cum at the dinner table? You just can’t seem to get enough, hmm?” He growled, fucking me harder and faster.
For a breath, I hated how my body answered him.
Heat pulsed through me, need humming low beneath the shame.
If I were honest, God, if I ever dared, I wanted the man who could whisper storms into me, even when I swore I would drown.
Tonight I would not give him that truth, but the wanting was there, slick against his palm, betraying every lie on my tongue.
I bent over my plate as I whispered, “N-no. No. No.”
“Let go, little hummingbird, and cum all over my fucking hand in front of our parents.” He pinched my clit, and I banged my forehead on the table, just so I wouldn’t shout my climax to the rooftop. Those words shouldn’t have turned me on so hard.
“Jesus Christ,” John exploded, from the other end of the table. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Zara?”
I looked up, trembling. “H-headache,” I whispered.
John sneered, “Instead of interrupting dinner, why don’t you head up to bed?”
Sterling had removed his fingers, and fixed my dress in the commotion, slowly licking them while staring at me, like he had not a care in the world. His molten gaze sent a warning to me. We weren’t finished. Not by a long shot.
“Gladly,” I mumbled, pushing away from the table. The room spun when I stood too fast. I blinked through it, hoping he didn’t notice.
My dinner had barely been touched. I spun on my heel and raced upstairs.
I swore I could hear the devil’s laugh, chasing me along the way, laughing about the scent of my pussy lingering on his fingers, before I slammed the bedroom door shut behind me.
Fuck, I needed to get out of here. I would not survive in this hell hole.
Back in my room, I pressed my back against the door, my breaths coming in shallow gasps. My reflection in the mirror was a stranger’s; a woman with wide, panicked eyes, and trembling hands. I clutched my stomach, the slight swell a cruel reminder of the secret I carried.
Could I really be pregnant?
The thought sent a shiver down my spine. The timeline haunted me. It fit too perfectly. Too neatly.
I shook my head, trying to banish the thought. What mattered was finding a way out of this house, away from Sterling, and the twisted power he held over me.
I shouldn’t have fallen into his web. But had I been given any choice? Sterling was a menace. In school, he’d often bullied me.
High school was a battleground. Some girls got through by hiding, others by clawing their way to the top. Me? I tried to blend in, to be untouchable. But no amount of hiding could make me invisible to Sterling Kingsley.
He had a way of pulling the rug out from under me, just when I thought I could breathe.
It was sophomore year and I had just gotten a rare break, an afternoon without Chadwick clinging to me like I owed him my existence.
The moment the bell rang I slipped out of class, my books clutched tightly to my chest, as I navigated the hallways of Clear View Academy.
The place was a breeding ground for the privileged and the cruel, a world Sterling ruled with a smirk and an iron grip.
I should have known better than to think I could make it to my next class without him noticing me.
I felt him before I saw him. A shift in the air, the weight of his presence pressing against my spine like a phantom hand.
“Where are you sneaking off to, little hummingbird?”
His voice slid over my skin, like silk laced with barbed wire. I clenched my jaw, keeping my gaze locked on the end of the hallway. Maybe if I ignored him, he’d get bored. Maybe-
A hand snatched the back of my sweater, yanking me backward. I gasped as I stumbled, barely catching myself, before my books spilled onto the floor.
"Now, now. Ignoring me? That hurts, Zara."
I turned, my breath coming short as I met his gaze. Sterling leaned against the locker beside me, one hand stuffed into the pocket of his perfectly tailored uniform slacks, the other braced against the metal boxing me in.
Even at seventeen he was too tall, too sharp, too fucking much. His uniform fit him better than any of the other guys, his tie loose in a way that screamed rebellion rather than laziness. A slow smirk tugged at his lips, and I hated the way my stomach clenched.
"Move," I said, my voice flat.
He tsked, reaching out to tug at one of my curls. "Not even a 'hi, Sterling'? You wound me."
I smacked his hand away, but it only made his smirk widen.
"God, you're predictable," he mused, tilting his head as if he were studying me, like an insect trapped under glass. "Always trying so hard to act like you're better than us. Like you're not one of us."
I swallowed, knowing what was coming. He could be vicious, but it was when he got thoughtful that I had to worry.
"You're not, you know," he continued, his voice dropping. "You’re just a girl playing pretend. Trying to walk between worlds, but we all know how this story ends."
My throat tightened, but I forced my expression to remain neutral. "Let me go, Sterling."
He leaned in, his breath brushing against my ear. "Say please."
I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms. I refused to give him the satisfaction.
Sterling sighed, stepping back with a lazy stretch. "Fine. Be a brat about it. I was just trying to be nice."
I had half a second to register the shift in his tone, before I felt something sharp against the back of my knees. A well-placed foot, just as I took a step forward.
The world tilted.
Books went flying.
I hit the ground hard, my knees scraping against the polished floor. A chorus of laughter erupted around me.
Heat rushed to my face, humiliation sinking its claws deep. I didn't need to look up to know they were watching. His crew. His fan club. The Clear View elite, always circling, always waiting for a show.
I pressed my palms against the cold tile, ready to push myself up, when a polished black dress shoe nudged my textbook further away from me.
Sterling crouched down, resting his elbows on his knees as he grinned. "Oops. Clumsy, aren’t you, little hummingbird?" He sneered the nickname, causing everyone to chuckle harder as they pointed at me.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw something, to wipe that smug look off his face.
Instead, I did what I had learned to do. I forced my expression blank, reached for my book without a word, and stood. The laughter slowly died. The crowd lost interest. But Sterling? He watched me with something unreadable in his dark eyes, his smirk slowly fading.
As I turned to walk away, he called after me, voice soft but lethal. "You’ll never outrun me, baby girl. You should stop trying."
I never ran from him.
But I sure as hell spent years trying to forget him.
I ran as fast as my legs would carry me to the shower. I wanted to wash all the horrible memories off of me. Away from Sterling. Away from the awful memories. I prayed he wouldn’t follow me.
I scrubbed until it felt like my skin bled. My heart rate hadn’t slowed down yet. I saw the look in his eyes, and it terrified me. It was just a matter of time before he came for me again.
I was on his playing field, after all.