Stefan’s POV
Later, I was downstairs when I heard them before I could see them—my dad’s low laugh, a practiced sound that grated on my nerves. It was the laugh he used when he was pretending to be happy, playing the role of a satisfied family man in his carefully scripted life. I stood in the dim hallway for a moment, listening to the clinking of forks and Alice’s uninterested replies. Part of me wanted to turn around and return to the comfort of my room, but a bigger, angrier part needed to confront this situation. I needed to see her.
I walked into the dining room.
The scene was a f*****g example of a perfect family moment….except, it wasn't perfect. Dad sat at the head of the table, with Alice on his right, scrolling on her phone. And on his left... the b***h.
Odessa.
I couldn’t he
