The Unwanted son-in-law

Game of control

Ethan’s POV

Marriage.

It’s supposed to be about love, devotion, and all that sentimental crap.

But for us?

It’s nothing but a warzone.

A contract.

A forced arrangement where neither of us wants the other.

And yet…

Here I am, watching Zara squirm beneath my touch.

Well she wanted a massage right 

She got it

……….

Because I didn't give her the massage early She has been complaining about every little thing, trying to piss me off, firstly was the maids, then about the house, and now about me breathing the same air as her.

And I?

I’m tired of listening.

So, when she makes some snide comment about me being useless, I raise a brow.

“Useless?” I echo, stepping closer.

She crosses her arms, glaring up at me. “You heard me.”

I smirk. “Alright then, Princess. Since I’m so ‘useless,’ why don’t you do everything yourself?”

She frowns. “What do you mean?”

I lean in, voice low.

“I mean, you’re always acting like you don’t need me. Like you have everything under control.” I trail a finger down her arm, watching as her breath hitches. “But I don’t think you do.”

She stiffens. “Stop playing games.”

I chuckle. “Who said I’m playing?”

And just like that?

I have her.

It starts off innocently enough.

Zara has been rubbing her shoulders earlier, clearly in pain but too damn stubborn to say anything, though she asked for a massage before, but I only thought it was just her usual taunt.

So, I take full advantage.

“You’re tense,” I murmur, stepping behind her.

She goes still.

“W-What are you doing?” she asks, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

I place my hands on her shoulders, fingers pressing into her soft skin.

She sucks in a sharp breath.

“Relax,” I say smoothly. “I’m just being a good husband, remember you once asked for a massage”

She lets out a bitter laugh. “You? A good husband? and about the massage, that was just a joke.”

I smirk.

“Then tell me to stop.”

Silence.

I know she won’t.

So, I dig my thumbs into the knots in her muscles, massaging slow, deliberate circles.

And the way she melts beneath my touch?

Fascinating.

Her head tilts forward, eyes fluttering shut.

Her lips part slightly, breathing uneven.

I lean down, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

She doesn’t answer.

But she doesn’t push me away either.

Interesting.

I slide my hands lower, fingers grazing her bare back where her dress has dipped.

Zara tenses, but I feel her shiver.

“You should be thanking me,” I whisper. “Not everyone gets a massage from someone like me.”

She lets out a soft scoff. “You’re so….”

But she gasps mid-sentence as I press my thumbs into the base of her spine.

Oh, she’s sensitive there.

Good to know.

I lean closer. “What was that?”

She swallows hard. “Nothing.”

Liar.

I move my hands to her sides, teasingly skimming the fabric of her dress.

She sucks in a breath. “Eth..a..n..”

“Hmm?” I murmur. “Something wrong?”

She turns her head slightly, our faces inches apart.

Her eyes are burning, filled with desire 

And that’s when I know…

She wants more.

But she’ll never say it.

So, I smirk.

And just when she’s expecting me to continue….

I pull away.

Zara blinks.

Like she’s trying to process what just happened.

And then?

Then she snaps.

“What the hell was that?!” she demands, whirling around to face me.

I stretch lazily. “A massage.”

She narrows her eyes. “That was not just a massage.”

I raise a brow. “Oh? Then what was it, sweetheart?”

Her cheeks flush. “You—You were teasing me!”

I grin. “And?”

She stomps her foot, like a frustrated child. “And it’s annoying!”

I chuckle. “You seemed to enjoy it, though.”

Her jaw clenches. “You’re impossible.”

I take a step closer, tilting my head. “Am I?”

She exhales sharply. “I hate you.”

I smirk. “Hate me all you want, Princess.” I lean in, my breath hot against her ear.

“But your body tells a different story.”

I shouldn’t be doing this.

She didn't push me away.

Her lips part slightly, and for the first time, I see uncertainty in her gaze.

I smirk. “What’s wrong, Princess?”

She swallows, her fingers twitching like she wants to grab something… me, maybe?

I inch closer, watching as she shivers.

It’s almost… too easy.

Her scent, her warmth everything about this moment is pulling me in.

And for once, she isn’t running her mouth.

She’s just staring.

Waiting.

And then?

Then she does something unexpected.

She tilts her head up just slightly, just enough for me to catch the way her lips tremble.

And suddenly, I’m not smirking anymore.

My grip tightens.

I lean in.

Closer.

Her eyes flutter shut, and I can feel the heat radiating off her skin.

One more inch…

One more….

BANG!

The door slams open so hard the walls rattle.

I jerk back immediately, my heart pounding as my eyes dart to the doorway.

And there he is.

Chris.

Standing there, looking pissed.

Chris’s POV

I can’t believe this.

I can’t f*cking believe this.

I come back after my trip, hoping to see Zara, my Zara and what do I find?

Her.

With him.

With Ethan f*cking Carter.

Too close.

Too intimate.

Too damn comfortable.

My jaw clenches, rage boiling in my veins as I step inside.

“What the hell is going on here?” I snap.

Zara jumps, quickly stepping away from Ethan like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

Ethan, on the other hand?

The bastard just smirks.

Like this is some kind of sick game.

“Nothing,” Zara mutters, clearing her throat. “Nothing was going on.”

Liar.

I glare at Ethan. “Looked like something to me.”

His smirk widens. “Maybe you should mind your own business, Montgomery.”

Oh, I hate him.

I really, really hate him.

But I don’t let it show.

Instead, I relax my stance, shoving my hands into my pockets as I shift my gaze back to Zara.

“So,” I say smoothly, “are you going to offer me a drink, or are you too busy throwing yourself at your husband?”

Zara gapes at me.

Ethan chuckles. “Ouch.”

Zara snaps.

“Oh, shut up, Chris!” she hisses. “You have no right to talk to me like that!”

I arch a brow. “Don’t I?”

She crosses her arms, glaring. “No, you don’t.”

Ethan watches, amused.

Like he’s enjoying this way too much.

“Relax, Princess,” he drawls. “Wouldn’t want your boyfriend getting the wrong idea.”

Chris stiffens. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Ethan smirks. “Oh, I know.”

Bastard.

I swear to God, I will wipe that smug look off his face one day.

But for now?

I just force a sm

ile.

“Well, whatever you two were doing,” I say, stepping closer, “I hope you remember one thing.”

Zara frowns. “What?”

I look straight at Ethan.

“I was here first.”

Ethan’s smirk fades.

Zara’s eyes widen.

And with that, I turn around and walk out, leaving them both to think about what the hell that means.