He Lost Me When He Chose His StepsisterChapter 1
For the nth time, I tried to seduce my husband, Troy Green, but failed once again to consummate the marriage, so I decided to call my brother.
The divorce papers lay untouched on the desk as I held the phone to my ear with trembling fingers.
“Brother,” I said softly, “I’m going to divorce him.”
There was a beat of silence. Then, Nathan’s voice came through, calm and unsurprised. “Thalia, I warned you, didn’t I? That man… he’s ice. Emotionally constipated. Sexually apathetic. A walking void in an expensive suit.”
A small, broken laugh escaped my lips. “I thought I could fix him. I really thought if I loved him hard enough, he’d love me back.”
“You’re not a repair shop, Thalia. You don’t fix people like him. Listen, come to New Zealand. The beaches are beautiful, the men actually know how to touch a woman. Let Troy Green rot in his glass mansion, untouched and unloved.”
I leaned my head back against the wall, breathing through the burn in my chest. “I’ll book the flight once the papers are signed.”
“Good,” Nathan said, his voice softer now. “You deserve better. You always have.”
When the call ended, I didn’t move for a long time.
Then I stood. The corridor was quiet, the marble floors cold beneath my bare feet. I passed the guest wing, the lounge, then paused outside the room at the far end of the hallway.
That was Troy’s private sanctuary. A room he always kept locked. A room I was never allowed to enter.
Tonight, it wasn’t locked. And from inside, I heard a sound. A low groan. Drawn out. Suppressed. I froze. My fingers brushed the edge of the door, hesitating.
Troy was on the couch, shirt half-undone, pants pushed down around his thighs. His back arched slightly, one hand gripping the edge of the cushion, the other working between his legs with a familiar, practiced rhythm.
His head was thrown back, lips parted, eyes locked on the screen in front of him. But what turned my stomach—what turned my heart to dust—was what he was watching.
It was her. Bianca. His stepsister.
The video was from a summer vacation, one we all took together three years ago. I recognized the scenery instantly—waves crashing behind her, the cliffside covered in wildflowers. Bianca was at the beach, laughing, hair wind-blown and sunlit, wearing a white dress that clung to her figure like a second skin.