My Stepfather’s Prey - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading My Stepfather’s Prey, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of My Stepfather’s Prey.
My body froze. I couldn't bring myself to turn around. A bloodcurdling scream ripped from my throat before I could stop it.
The instant my scream echoed through the room, the eye disappeared from the mirror.
It took forever for my breathing to steady. On shaky legs, I finally stood and stared at the bedroom door.
That eye—I'd recognize it anywhere!
Vincent Lowell—that disgusting pervert—had been watching me change through the door crack!
Memories of his past behavior sent white-hot rage coursing through my veins.
That bastard was going to get an earful!
Blind with fury, I threw open the door—only to crash straight into Vincent, who was balancing a bowl of fruit.
"Here," he said casually, offering me an apple like nothing was wrong. "Took me ages to wash these. Sweet, just like you."
The sudden shift to his calm, collected act left me speechless.
"You... you were in the kitchen this whole time?"
He shrugged, all fake innocence. "Where else would I be?"
My stomach churned. This man was pure slime. Every word out of his mouth was a lie!
He must've sprinted to the kitchen to set up this pathetic alibi while I was still recovering from the shock!
Just as I opened my mouth to call him out, a horrifying realization hit me.
Wait—that didn't add up.
I was obsessive about privacy.
Because of Vincent's visit, I'd locked my bedroom door before changing.
No way he could've opened it silently... unless he had a key.
Ice flooded my veins.
Only two people had keys to this room—me and Mom.
Unless...?
Had she given him one?
But that made zero sense!
He was just here to drop off fruit at Mom's request.
She wouldn't hand over her daughter's bedroom key to her husband before he left—no matter how much she trusted him!
The acrid stench of cigarette smoke snapped me back to reality.
Vincent had already made himself at home on my couch, puffing away while watching me with that infuriating smirk.
Classless pig!
Waving away the smoke, I shot him my most venomous glare and stormed out.
When the elevator doors closed, I finally breathed.
Freedom.
No perverts. No peeping Toms.
I'd make damn sure Mom never sent him here again!
I didn't want anything from that creep!
A small smile had just started forming when the neighborhood PA system screeched to life.
"Attention residents: A COVID-positive case has been confirmed in this complex. Effective immediately, all residents must return to their units for a mandatory two-week quarantine..."
Two weeks? Locked inside?
My blood ran cold as Vincent's smug face flashed in my mind.
He was still in my apartment.
Which meant I'd be trapped with that predator for fourteen days?!
Hell no!
In full panic mode, I sprinted to the management office.
"My... relative's still inside. Can security make an exception to remove him?"
"Rules are rules, miss. No exceptions."
"But—"
"Where's your civic responsibility?" the staffer cut me off. "Is that your family waiting over there? Go home!"
Family?
I turned slowly, dread pooling in my gut.
Vincent stood at the entrance, watching me with that icy smirk.
His expression said it all: You're mine now.
Pure terror shot through me. I tried to bolt, but his hand clamped around my wrist like a vise.
"Evelynn, sweetheart," he crooned, dragging out the word like it was some sick joke. "There's a lockdown. Be a good girl and come home."
The way he emphasized "home" made my skin crawl. His eyes glittered with malicious amusement.
Panic took over. I thrashed wildly, screaming loud enough to wake the dead. "HELP! I DON'T KNOW HIM!"
Bystanders stared. Vincent just sighed and gave them an apologetic shrug. "Teenagers, am I right? Always so dramatic about quarantine."
A few residents nodded sympathetically. One nosy old woman actually scolded me. "Dear, we're all sacrificing. It's not just you—"
As she droned on, Vincent yanked me toward the elevator, his grip unbreakable.
His face was terrifyingly blank—no anger, no emotion. Just empty.
That emptiness scared me more than anything.
Run. Hide. Survive.
The instant my scream echoed through the room, the eye disappeared from the mirror.
It took forever for my breathing to steady. On shaky legs, I finally stood and stared at the bedroom door.
That eye—I'd recognize it anywhere!
Vincent Lowell—that disgusting pervert—had been watching me change through the door crack!
Memories of his past behavior sent white-hot rage coursing through my veins.
That bastard was going to get an earful!
Blind with fury, I threw open the door—only to crash straight into Vincent, who was balancing a bowl of fruit.
"Here," he said casually, offering me an apple like nothing was wrong. "Took me ages to wash these. Sweet, just like you."
The sudden shift to his calm, collected act left me speechless.
"You... you were in the kitchen this whole time?"
He shrugged, all fake innocence. "Where else would I be?"
My stomach churned. This man was pure slime. Every word out of his mouth was a lie!
He must've sprinted to the kitchen to set up this pathetic alibi while I was still recovering from the shock!
Just as I opened my mouth to call him out, a horrifying realization hit me.
Wait—that didn't add up.
I was obsessive about privacy.
Because of Vincent's visit, I'd locked my bedroom door before changing.
No way he could've opened it silently... unless he had a key.
Ice flooded my veins.
Only two people had keys to this room—me and Mom.
Unless...?
Had she given him one?
But that made zero sense!
He was just here to drop off fruit at Mom's request.
She wouldn't hand over her daughter's bedroom key to her husband before he left—no matter how much she trusted him!
The acrid stench of cigarette smoke snapped me back to reality.
Vincent had already made himself at home on my couch, puffing away while watching me with that infuriating smirk.
Classless pig!
Waving away the smoke, I shot him my most venomous glare and stormed out.
When the elevator doors closed, I finally breathed.
Freedom.
No perverts. No peeping Toms.
I'd make damn sure Mom never sent him here again!
I didn't want anything from that creep!
A small smile had just started forming when the neighborhood PA system screeched to life.
"Attention residents: A COVID-positive case has been confirmed in this complex. Effective immediately, all residents must return to their units for a mandatory two-week quarantine..."
Two weeks? Locked inside?
My blood ran cold as Vincent's smug face flashed in my mind.
He was still in my apartment.
Which meant I'd be trapped with that predator for fourteen days?!
Hell no!
In full panic mode, I sprinted to the management office.
"My... relative's still inside. Can security make an exception to remove him?"
"Rules are rules, miss. No exceptions."
"But—"
"Where's your civic responsibility?" the staffer cut me off. "Is that your family waiting over there? Go home!"
Family?
I turned slowly, dread pooling in my gut.
Vincent stood at the entrance, watching me with that icy smirk.
His expression said it all: You're mine now.
Pure terror shot through me. I tried to bolt, but his hand clamped around my wrist like a vise.
"Evelynn, sweetheart," he crooned, dragging out the word like it was some sick joke. "There's a lockdown. Be a good girl and come home."
The way he emphasized "home" made my skin crawl. His eyes glittered with malicious amusement.
Panic took over. I thrashed wildly, screaming loud enough to wake the dead. "HELP! I DON'T KNOW HIM!"
Bystanders stared. Vincent just sighed and gave them an apologetic shrug. "Teenagers, am I right? Always so dramatic about quarantine."
A few residents nodded sympathetically. One nosy old woman actually scolded me. "Dear, we're all sacrificing. It's not just you—"
As she droned on, Vincent yanked me toward the elevator, his grip unbreakable.
His face was terrifyingly blank—no anger, no emotion. Just empty.
That emptiness scared me more than anything.
Run. Hide. Survive.
End of My Stepfather’s Prey Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to My Stepfather’s Prey book page.