Chapter 1; The Beginning of Temptation
508 Words
Mike sat in the dimly lit living room, his fingers wrapped around a glass of whiskey. The sound of the grandfather clock ticking against the silence only reminded him of how empty the house felt. Diana was working late again—another night of cold sheets and distant conversations. He loved his wife, but lately, she felt like a ghost passing through their home, always too busy, always too tired.
The soft hum of a lullaby floated from upstairs. Karen.
She had been working for them for only a month, but in that short time, she had become a comforting presence in the house. Unlike Diana, who was always rushing from one meeting to the next, Karen was here. Always here—gentle, attentive, and far too alluring for her own good.
Mike shook his head, as if to clear away the thoughts creeping into his mind. She’s just the babysitter. That’s all.
Yet, when Karen descended the staircase, barefoot and dressed in nothing but a simple tank top and loose pajama shorts, Mike felt a dangerous pull in his chest. She paused when she saw him, her lips curving into a small, hesitant smile.
“Mr. Adams, I just put Liam to bed. He was fussy tonight.”
Her voice was soft, sweet—so different from Diana’s sharp, professional tone. Mike nodded, forcing himself to look away from the way the dim light accentuated the curves beneath her thin top.
“Thank you, Karen. You’ve been great with him.”
She sat down on the opposite couch, pulling one leg up under her. “I don’t mind. He’s a sweet kid.”
Mike took another sip of his drink, hoping the burn of the alcohol would drown out the tension building in the room. She’s young, innocent. Don’t be stupid. But Karen wasn’t oblivious—she could sense something. The way he looked at her sometimes. The way his eyes lingered a second too long. And yet, she didn’t move away. Instead, she reached for the remote and flipped through the channels absentmindedly.
“Do you ever get lonely, Mr. Adams?”
The question hit him like a punch to the gut. He turned his head slowly, meeting her gaze. Her eyes held something he wasn’t sure if he should fear or indulge in.
“That’s not something I should be discussing with you,” he said, his voice lower than he intended.
Karen bit her lip. “Sorry. I just... I see you here, night after night. Your wife hardly comes home. I guess I just—”
“You shouldn’t worry about me,” Mike interrupted, his grip tightening on the glass.
Karen hesitated, then gave him a small nod. But as she stood up to leave, she stumbled slightly, her hand brushing against his shoulder to steady herself. That brief touch. That fleeting warmth. It was nothing… and yet it was everything.
As she disappeared up the stairs, Mike closed his eyes, breathing heavily.
This was dangerous. And it was only the beginning.
- Writer
