“Are you excited for the annual Black Hallows Masquerade Ball this Saturday?” the reporter, interviewer, royal pain in my ass asks.

It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes. This chick has officially earned her spot on my shit-list for not only sticking me in the same vapid box as every other eighteen-year-old girl but failing to do her research.

I plaster a fake smile on my face. “Super pumped.”

Negatory. The only thing I’m excited for is watching Netflix and munching on the raw cookie dough I have a date with.

Not looking at all put off by my snark, she continues, thrusting her iPhone at me to record my response. “Is there a special boy in the picture?”

It’s too late to diffuse the question. There’s already a brutal flush creeping from my toes all the way up to my hairline.

Reporter bitch looks like the cat who ate the canary. “I knew it. Pretty girls like you never go unnoticed, do they?”

There’s an unmistakable hint of pettiness in her statement, and I know without a doubt this interview is about to go downhill fast.

Something I probably should have realized sooner given she has yet to ask me a single question about Cain’s campaign for mayor. In other words, the reason we’re having this interview in the first place.

I look around, but her next question forces my attention back to her. “Just between us girls, is it weird having a father who’s only a few years older than you?” She fans herself with the paper in her hand. “Lord knows I couldn’t live under the same roof with Black Hallows’ most eligible bachelor. Not without sleeping in his bed every night.” Her gaze turns calculating. “Then again, rumor has it, affairs with older men aren’t exactly out of the question for you.”  

The implication makes me fidget. A rookie mistake.

“He’s my stepfather.” Squaring my shoulders, I find my resolve. “And he’s only Black Hallows’ most eligible bachelor because my mother is dead, you heartless bitch.”

She starts to speak, but I stand up. “This interview is over.”

“What’s going on in here?” a deep voice that sounds like melted chocolate over gravel barks from the other room.  

I meet his dark eyes when he enters, refusing to look anywhere else for fear my legs will turn to jelly and the reporter will have a field day. Too late…my control is waning. Today Cain’s wearing his green tie that brings out the subtle flecks of gold in his orbs. Sweet baby Jesus in a manger. I’m so screwed.

Tossing my long blonde hair over my shoulder, I shrug and head for the exit.  “Nothing.”

A touch to my elbow halts me and just like that—I’m spilling my guts.

“This asshole from the Independent Chronicle came here to remind me that my mother croaking made you Black Hallows’ most eligible bachelor…and because the town still hasn’t found a new whore to point fingers at, I must be spreading my legs for you.”

Like a good politician about to face a scandal, Cain releases me and turns his attention to the reporter, looking outraged. “That’s absurd. She’s my deceased wife’s daughter.”

My heart, the bruised and battered thing twists in my chest and I look at the reporter. “You can go fuck yourself.” My stare snags him again. “You too.”

A faint shiver of delight zips through me when I see his annoyance simmering beneath the surface. Good.

Maybe now he’ll understand how I’ve been feeling ever since the incident.

The one that ended with him discarding me like I was nothing more than a dirty rag, then come right back around and use me whenever it’s convenient for him.

Just like everyone else in my life.

His jaw tics. “Where’s David? I thought we all agreed he’d supervise you during these?”

“That’s funny.” I gesture between us. “We didn’t agree to anything. You told me some reporters wanted to interview me this week and said not to speak to anyone without him present.”

“Eden,” he grinds out, and I curse myself for wondering if that’s how he’d grunt my name if we finished what we started that night. “Where is he?”

I give him a big smile. “I told him to grab some lunch.” My smile falls. “You know, since I’m not a fucking child who needs a babysitter.”

With that, I march upstairs to my bedroom.

“What newspaper did you say you were from? Because you’ll be cleaning out your desk by the end of the day,” Cain booms from the living room. His voice lights every nerve ending of mine on fire, even from so far away. Until I hear the next words out of his mouth. "For fuck's sake, my wife's body isn't even cold yet. What kind of person comes into someone's home and says that shit to a kid who’s still mourning her mother.”

Locking the door behind me, I fight the urge to laugh. My mother’s been dead for over a year now, and Lord knows I haven’t spent more than a second grieving the woman who treated me like her life’s greatest mistake instead of her daughter.

Neither has Cain.

Despite him ripping the reporter a new one, anyone with a pulse knows their marriage was one hot steaming pile of bullshit.  

He was twenty-five and she was thirty-nine when they got hitched—which made me—who was only fourteen at the time—closer to his age than my mother.

But given her own campaign focused on family values when she ran for District Attorney four years ago—and she had no family—other than the daughter who caused a huge scandal that year—she needed to find someone to fill the gaping hole my sperm donor left in our family portrait.

Enter Cain Carter—not one to pass up a good opportunity, even in the face of gossip and outrage—he married her. Most likely because— scandal or not—she knew all the right people. People who ironically enough, got him to where he is now.

Running for mayor and presumed to win.  Which will officially make him the youngest mayor Black Hallows has ever had.

Well, as long as there aren’t any scandals in the next eleven days.

I know he’s wanted this for a while now, but to be honest; I have mixed feelings. Half my heart wants him to win because I know it’s a stepping stone to his real dream—becoming president one day. But the other half wants him to lose so it gets rid of at least one obstacle between us.

Then again, if he loses, who knows what will happen to me. As of tomorrow, I’m a legal adult, which means he’s no longer under any legal obligation to take care of me.

Shortly after my mother died in a car accident, Cain disclosed his plans to run for mayor and gave me two choices. Either I could end up a homeless teenager on the street, because my cunt of a mother didn’t leave me a dime. Or I could stay with him and he would take care of me, provided I did everything he said, played the part of the good little stepdaughter, and didn’t cause any waves during his campaign.

It was an easy choice. I’ve been in love with Cain since the moment I laid eyes on him…despite meeting him while I was at my lowest.

Unfortunately for me, he’s as straight-laced as they come, appears to give a shit about my well-being most days, and would never cross that line.

Except for that one night.