Falling for His Stepmother's Trap

Tags: Smart Female Lead, Revenge & Face-slapping, Plot Twists, Forbidden Affair, Cold-blooded Male Lead, Karma I had been with my boyfriend for three years. After living together for a year, he felt my family was asking for too much support toward our future home, so he secretly poked a hole in the condom. I ended up pregnant, only for his young stepmother to scheme and cause me to miscarry. It wasn't until later that I discovered his gorgeous stepmother was actually the one who got away—the first love he had pined over for years. I had been dating Mark for three years and living with him for one. This Thanksgiving, I brought him home to meet my parents. "Serena, your family is asking for way too much," Mark grumbled as soon as we got back to our apartment. He loosened his tie with obvious irritation, his brow furrowed as he slumped onto the sofa. Mark was great in almost every way, except he loved to complain whenever he had a drink in him. "It’s not like my parents aren’t contributing anything," I countered. "Is eighty-eight thousand dollars for a down payment really that unreasonable? Besides, my parents offered to buy us a car." I wasn't about to indulge his bad attitude. I picked up his jacket from the couch where he had tossed it and hung it on the coat rack. "Are your parents marrying off a daughter, or are they selling you?" The alcohol seemed to hit him harder. He squeezed his eyes shut, looking thoroughly miserable. "If I can't cough up eighty-eight grand, does that mean we’re calling off the wedding?" My eyes stung, and a tear slid down my cheek. I grabbed the dirty socks he had kicked across the floor and hurled them right at his face. "Talk to me when you're sober, Mark." I took a shower and went straight to bed, ignoring Mark as he whined about his headache out in the living room. In the middle of the night, Mark seemed to sober up. He crept into bed in the dark. The faint scent of body wash drifted off his skin as he wrapped his arms around me. I woke up feeling groggy, but Mark was already whispering apologies into my ear. "Serena, I'm so sorry. I drank too much. It won't happen again." "I'll talk to my parents about the money. We can set up a dinner for both families. My parents and I can manage the eighty-eight thousand." "My numbers at work have been pretty solid this year. I'll push harder, take on a few more projects, and once the year-end bonus comes through, we'll get married." Swayed by his sweet talk, my annoyance melted away, along with my sleepiness. Sensing that I was no longer angry, he began running his hands over me. I gave him a halfhearted shove, gesturing toward the nightstand for protection. He scrambled eagerly into the bathroom, came back, and we spent the rest of the night tangled in the sheets. The next morning, I woke up with an aching back. Mark had already left for work. Surprisingly, he had cleaned up every trace of the night before, even taking out the trash and kitchen compost on his way out. Over the next few days, Mark hovered around me like a devoted puppy. He even cooked dinner every evening. "Mark, I hate spinach," I complained. "It's good for you, babe. Eat up." When I refused, he took off his apron, sat down next to me, and fed me bite by bite. A month passed like this, and we were intimate far more often than usual. "Mark, I need to see a doctor tomorrow. I've been feeling so nauseous today, but nothing comes up. I have zero appetite." Mark's eyes lit up. He immediately rubbed my back, soothing me softly. "It's okay. I'll take the day off tomorrow to go with you. After the clinic, we'll pick up some gifts and visit your parents." The next day, Mark took me to the clinic early in the morning. That was when I was told I was pregnant. "That's impossible... We always used protection, and I even took emergency contraception sometimes..." I sat on the waiting room bench, anxiously tugging at Mark's sleeve. "Maybe this baby is a blessing in disguise. Don't overthink it, babe. I can provide for you and the baby." "But I'm not ready for this. My career is finally taking off..." "You took so many emergency pills before; that's already tough on your body. An abortion would take an even bigger toll. Take a deep breath. Let me go with you to talk to your parents, okay?" I nodded, wrapping my arms around him, feeling completely drained.Back at my parents' house, the atmosphere turned instantly awkward the moment they heard the news. Still, with Mark present, my dad poured him some tea and kept up polite conversation as usual. My mom, on the other hand, dragged me straight into my old bedroom and tore into me. "Didn't I raise you to have some self-respect? Even if you're sleeping with him, you should have protected yourself!" Out of sheer frustration, she swatted my arm, though it didn't hurt. "Mark said he'd take full responsibility," I mumbled, too exhausted to argue. "Men always say that, but how many actually follow through? Do you have any idea how people look at an unmarried, pregnant girl? You're our only daughter. How could you throw yourself away like this?" She looked like she wanted to shake some sense into me. Losing my patience, I yanked my hand away. "If you hate this baby so much, I'll go get an abortion right now!" My mom froze, then sank weakly onto the bed. "I'm not blaming you. I just... I don't know how to say it right." She wiped at her reddened eyes. "If you really love Mark, marry him soon. Once you start showing, his family will look down on you." Without waiting for my answer, she quietly walked back to the kitchen to finish cooking. At the dinner table, aside from a few brief exchanges between my dad and Mark, my mom and I stayed silent. It was the most suffocating meal of my life. As we left, Mark repeatedly promised my parents that he would take care of me and make sure I didn't stress myself out. After that day, because my pregnancy was unstable, I quit my job. My heart was full of hope, waiting for the day Mark would surprise me with a proposal so we could get our marriage license and plan a wedding. Except, nothing happened. He never brought up arranging a dinner between our families to discuss wedding plans. Instead, he started coming home later and later. Sometimes he was stumbling drunk; other times, he smelled of another woman's perfume. When I confronted him about a faint smudge of lipstick on his collar, he slapped me across the face. "Serena, I didn't mean to!" Panic washed over Mark's face. He reached out frantically, trying to touch my cheek. I quietly pushed his hand away, looking at him with terrifying calm. "I'm fine. As long as the baby is okay." Only I knew that that single slap had knocked every ounce of foolish love out of me. Perhaps seeing me so calm made Mark feel like he was losing control. A few days later, he told me he was taking me to his parents' house for dinner. "Is there anything I should keep in mind for my first visit?" I asked. Even though Mark insisted I didn't need to bring anything, I still bought two high-end bottles of wine and a skincare set worth over a thousand dollars before heading over with him. A young woman answered the door. She looked young enough to be his sister. I had no idea Mark had any siblings, and I hadn't prepared a gift for her. Wondering how to smooth over the awkwardness, I tugged at Mark's sleeve. Mark spoke first. "This is my girlfriend, Serena." The woman completely ignored me. She rested her hand on Mark's arm, her cheeks flushed as she purred, "It's so good to have you home. So good." Mark pulled his arm back with an annoyed frown. "Watch your boundaries, Stepmom."My eyes widened in shock. This woman was Mark's stepmother? She didn't seem bothered in the slightest. In fact, she leaned in closer, laughing softly. "So what? Just because I married your father, you're holding a grudge against me?" Mark ignored her and pulled me inside. His stepmother's name was Elena. She looked surprisingly young, with an undeniably stunning figure. While Elena was in the kitchen cutting fruit, I leaned close to Mark and whispered, "How old is your stepmother? She looks so young." Mark didn't care. Without taking his eyes off his phone, he tossed out, "Forty-five." Any lingering discomfort from her physical touch with Mark vanished. Eager to learn her skincare secrets, I trotted into the kitchen. "Um, Elena," I said, looking at her youthful face. "Do you need any help?" "Do I look that old?" Elena sliced the fruit with effortless grace, letting a strand of hair fall over her cheek as she smiled. "Not at all," I shook my head. "I honestly thought you were our age." "Ha, I actually am your age. You can just call me Elena." After finishing the fruit, Elena rinsed her hands and picked up the platter to carry it out. I wanted to ask more, but Mark was already standing in the doorway, staring at us with an irritated scowl. Elena chuckled, brushing past Mark with the platter, her voice dripping with sweetness. "There are things Mark will tell you himself... once you're married." Mark's father hadn't arrived home yet, and the tension between Mark and his stepmother was thick. He followed her into her bedroom, and an argument immediately erupted. Sitting nearby, I could hear Elena hurling insults, while Mark mostly took the brunt of it. Finally, the sound of something shattering echoed through the hall. I rushed over to break it up, but Mark was already walking out of the bedroom. His clothes and hair were slightly disheveled. Looking exhausted, he said, "She has bipolar disorder. She's calmed down now. Don't disturb her." I nodded and followed Mark into his room. He thought I didn't notice, but there was a faint trace of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. Soon after, Mark took me to the courthouse to get our marriage license. Surrounded by our friends, we went to a private karaoke lounge that night for an afterparty. They called it our "final bachelor party." Everyone let loose. Out of consideration for my pregnancy, Mark used my nausea as an excuse to down drinks on my behalf. His face was flushed, clearly tipsy. "I need to take this call." Mark kissed my forehead affectionately, patted my head, and stepped out of the room. Five minutes passed, and Mark hadn't returned. His childhood friend, completely smashed, stumbled back from the restroom. "Hey, guess who I just saw outside? Our college queen. Mark's dream girl." The guys were too drunk to care about my presence, rambling on without a second thought. "Oh, I remember her! Didn't Mark chase her for years? Word is she got married, though. What was her name again?" "Elena!" I excused myself to use the restroom and walked out into the corridor. Near the end of the hallway by the restrooms, Mark and Elena were locked in a passionate, breathless kiss.I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo of the scene. I didn't storm over to confront them. Instead, I walked back into the lounge as if nothing had happened, where everyone had already moved on to another topic. *Mark, I originally planned to use this baby to secure my future with you, but it looks like I won't need to anymore.* I sat there for a long time, but Mark never came back. The party was winding down. Friends began trickling out in small groups. Mark's friend, reeking of alcohol, gave me an apologetic look. "Hey, let me call you an Uber." "No need, Mark will be here to pick me up soon." I turned my phone face down, hiding the dozen unanswered calls on the screen, and smiled as I covered for him. "His battery died, but he told me earlier he was already on his way." I sent him off, settled the bill at the front desk, and stepped outside the venue, sinking weakly onto the curb. "Look at you, hitting rock bottom already, Serena." A tall silhouette blocked the glow of the streetlamp above, standing right in front of me. "Boss, I already resigned, and I still can't escape your sharp tongue, can I?" I tried to joke with him, but the smile wouldn't form. It felt hollow and bitter. "Before I was your boss, I was your mentor from law school. Even if you quit, you can still ask me for help." Logan lowered his gaze to look at me. "Fine. Help me get to the clinic first." I looked up with a wry smile, meeting his eyes. Logan drove me to the emergency clinic. The doctor frowned at me in disapproval. "Don't you know you're pregnant? Why are you drinking so much? Do you not want this baby?" "No, I don't," I said flatly. The doctor didn't pry any further, writing a prescription to help stabilize the pregnancy and telling me to pick it up. Logan helped me to a bench in the hallway, then handled everything himself—paying the bill and picking up the medication. Finally, he sat beside me, holding the pills and a bottle of water. He showed more care for me than Mark ever did as my husband. "Why don't you want the baby anymore?" Logan asked. "Didn't you just get your marriage license today?" I stared at the Instagram post I had made that afternoon. The photo of our marriage certificate now looked completely ridiculous. "Logan, do you take cases? A guaranteed win." Logan dropped me off at home and left. Mark didn't come back all night, and his phone stayed turned off. I, on the other hand, slept peacefully. The next morning, Mark returned with heavy dark circles under his eyes, carrying the faint scent of hotel body wash. "Babe, a client flew in last night, and I had to host him." Mark gently turned me over and kissed my forehead. Catching the smell on him, I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "Why are you running a fever? Let me take you to the hospital." A flicker of panic flashed through his eyes as he scrambled to find a jacket for me. "I took some fever reducers last night. It's just a low-grade fever now." I reached out and squeezed his palm. "I'm a little hungry." "What do you want to eat? I'll go buy it." Mark acted extraordinarily attentive, eager to take care of everything. "I want some of the oatmeal Elena made."