I know, I know.

I shouldn’t be here. But what the hell; I just had to come. Carter hasn’t called or left me any messages after what happened in my apartment, and what can I say? The man has left me intrigued. It’s been two days since our impromptu meeting in my apartment and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about these two men ... the ones I just can’t stop calling daddy.

We’re supposed to have lunch tomorrow, the three of us, but I just couldn’t resist the urge to drop in and visit Carter. Ever since he showed up at my door, casual smile and piercing eyes, I haven’t been able to get him off my mind. I hate my stepmother’s guts, but there’s one thing that I just gotta give to her: she has quite the taste when it comes to men. I mean, between Carter and Derek, I truly don’t know which one to choose.

So, yeah, don’t think I swung by Carter’s office because he interested me the most. It’s nothing like that. I just think that Carter Blake is the most approachable one or, if you want me to say it like that, the cool headed one. I can see myself sitting across from Carter and having a rational conversation while with Derek it’s all fire and thunder. Usually that isn’t a problem for me, but things tend to change slightly when you have a $250 billion dollar fortune to manage. I mean, I’m only 25 and I’m the richest person on Earth. I gotta be smart about this, or else people will rip me off left and right.

Walking across the cavernous lobby, my heels clicking across the marble floor, I make a beeline toward what seems to be the receptionist’s desk.

“May I help you?” a redheaded woman asks me, her horn-rimmed glasses on her forehead. She’s sitting outside of Carter’s office behind a massive desk, and I assume she’s his secretary. She’s a beautiful woman, probably in her mid-thirties, and judging by the look in her eyes I’d say she’s as loyal of an employee as Carter can get.

“I’m here to see Carter,” I tell her, resting my purse on her desk.

“And you are?” she asks me, softly smiling, and I can tell right away that she knows exactly who I am. I mean, it’s not like I want to brag, but everyone knows who I am. 25 years old and worth $250 billion dollars? Hell, even God knows who I am; I’m just surprised he hasn’t called and asked me for a loan.

“Eliza Seymour,” I reply nonetheless, and Carter’s secretary just smiles politely and pretends to look down at her laptop for a few seconds.

“Well, Carter’s busy right now, but I think he’ll be able to squeeze in a few minutes for you, Ms. Seymour,” she says, her eyes appraising me, almost as if she’s trying to find out why I came here and what my intentions are when it comes to Carter. Yeah, this woman is more than just his secretary; their relationship goes beyond the usual secretary-boss dynamic. No, I’m not saying they’re sleeping together (I hope not, at least—wait, why am I saying that?); I’m just saying there’s a lot of trust between these two. And how do I know that? Well, if there’s something I’m good at, it’s at appraising people. Call it a sixth sense.

“Eliza?” I hear Carter’s voice, and I turn around to meet him. He’s standing outside of his office, the huge double oak doors opening and revealing a huge room behind him. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t a girl visit her father?” I say, slinging my purse over my shoulder and walking toward him. I stop just a few feet away from him, and I have to look up to meet his eyes. Carter—just like Derek—is a head taller than me, and God, that just makes him all the more sexier.

He looks at me for a few seconds in complete silence, as if he’s trying to search for the right words, and then he waves at his office. “Sure, come in,” he tells me, and I don’t wait for more; I walk past him, strolling inside his office with a casual gait and sit down on the chair across from his desk.

Instead of sleek and modern, Carter’s office has more of a classy look. A Goya picture hangs on one of the walls and, even though the sun bathes the whole room through the floor-to-ceiling glass panels, there’s a certain sobriety to the whole place. In such a context, more than looking like a modern-day CEO, Carter looks like nobility.

Closing the doors behind him, he walks around his desk and sits in front of me, the glint in his eyes telling me that he’s more than happy to see me.

“I’m glad you came by,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine, and I feel that he’s truly happy to see me. At least as much as I am. I know, this might be a little creepy to say, but what the hell; it feels good to be across from him and know that there’s some chemistry between us. What if he’s my stepfather? It’s not like that matters. We aren’t blood related and, besides, it’s not like he ever really played out his role as my father.

“I just wanted to hear your thoughts,” I start, not bothering to beat around the bush. As much as I wanted to see Carter again, I came here with a definite purpose—to hear his thoughts on Derek. Yeah, that might be a backhanded thing to do, but we’re not talking about investing in a bakery; we’re talking about a fortune big enough to start a war (and to finish it).

“My thoughts? What about?” he asks me, but I think he knows exactly what I want to ask him.

“About Derek. After the two of you left, he called me about some investment options and … I’m just not sure. I know you don’t see eye-to-eye, but I think you can be rational about this. I want to know if I should invest some of my money with Derek.”

Carter’s smile starts fading away from his face, his lips becoming just a thin line, and then he looks away from me and sighs, leaning back against his chair. Breathing in deeply, he sits up straight in his chair, places both his hands on the table and looks me straight in the eye.

“I’m sorry, Eliza. I can’t help you with that.”

“Oh? That’s odd coming from you. You spoke your mind back at my apartment, why this now?” I ask him, feeling confused for the first time since I landed back in the US. From what I’ve gathered, Carter was more than happy to have me invest solely with him. In fact, he went out of his way to demean Derek and his financial savvy … and now that I’m offering him a chance on a silver platter to bash Derek, he’s bowing out of it.

“I can’t advise you, Eliza,” he replies, and I notice a certain kind of coiled tension taking over his body.

“Why not?”

“Because,” he runs his tongue between his lips, and I notice his hands becoming tense, “I’m attracted to you. Much more than I should be.”

His words wrap themselves around me like a thick rope from which I can’t escape and, surprisingly (or maybe not), I realize that I enjoy them. Carter is attracted to me … and, as you’ve noticed by now, that feeling works both ways.

Sure, yeah, I’ve had a lot of sex during my years in Europe. From rock stars to soccer players, no man was too famous or too important to be seduced by me. But, I don’t know, Carter and Derek are different. These two don’t look at me as if I’m a piece of meat or a walking wallet (well, at least most of the time); they look at me as a woman, one made of flesh and soul. And that, let me tell you, you don’t find that everyday. Most men just want a wet place where they can stick their cocks.

And, just between you and me… The fact that they are my stepfathers kinda gives an edge to the whole thing. You know what they say—the forbidden fruit is always the sweetest.

“You know that’s wrong,” I start, the words taking shape in my mouth. I don’t even filter them. “I’m technically your stepdaughter,” I continue, lowering my voice and ready to enjoy his reaction. I’m teasing him, and if there’s something I like to do it's to tease handsome men and bend them to my will.

“That makes it even better,” Carter says in a heartbeat, his words slapping me hard. I wasn’t expecting that. I was waiting for him to act awkwardly and try to apologize for his words, not for him to double down on what he has just said.

“And what are you going to do about it?” I whisper, leaning forward slightly and offering him a better view of my cleavage. His eyes wander down to my breasts before he snaps them back up to my face, and I notice him swallowing hard. I can almost see the gears turning inside of his head.

“You should leave now,” he says suddenly, going up to his feet and walking around the desk. He points to the doors, but his eyes never leave mine.

“What if I don’t want to?” I reply, slowly standing up right in front of him.

“In that case…” he trails off and grabs me by the waist, pulling me into him fast. Our mouths connect, my lips fitting on his almost too perfectly, and I close my eyes.

Sin has never been this delicious.