"Stiles!" her mother gasped, rushing to the couch, quickly taking a towel and wrapping it around her daughter's naked body. Stiles flinched at the touch, hiding her face, tears spilling down her cheeks.

The silence in the living room was broken by a sharp, stinging sound.

SLAP!

Stiles's head whipped to the side, her father's palm burning her cheek.

"You shameless whore!" he spat, his voice trembling with rage. "How dare you?!"

"Dad.." Stiles sobbed, clutching the cloth tighter around her. "Please..."

"You filthy girl! We gave you everything— comfort, respect, a good man for your future —and you spread your legs for that street rat?!" His words dripped with disgust.

"Please, stop-" Stiles's voice cracked, but he didn't.

Her father's eyes burned, his chest heaving.

"That bastard Derek. I warned you about him years ago. Poor, useless, no family name, no money, nothing! And you dare bring him back into your life?! In your fiancé's home?!"

Stiles cried harder, shaking. "Don't... don't say such things about him. Please."

Her mother sobbed quietly, trying to hold Stiles close, but her father's fury only grew.

"He's ruined you! You think that boy loves you? He's using you like the slut you are!" His hand trembled as he pointed at her. "If I see him again, if he dares come near you again— swear on my life, I'll kill him with my own hands!"

"Nooo!" Stiles screamed, clutching her father's leg in desperation, falling to her knees.

"Please don't hurt him, Dad! Please, I beg you, don't touch Derek!"

Her tears streamed down her face, her body shaking violently. She pressed her forehead to the floor, desperate, broken.

Her father's voice cracked like a whip. "Then leave him. Swear it right now. You will never see him again."

Stiles sobbed, torn apart, her heart screaming for Derek, but her lips trembling with fear.

"Say it!" her father bellowed. "Or I'll hunt him down tonight."

Her mother cried softly, stroking her hair.

"Stiles, please... just listen. Don't make this worse."

Stiles's throat burned as she forced the words out between sobs. "I... I won't see him again... please don't hurt him... please, Dad..."

Her father finally exhaled, cold and sharp.

"Good. You will stay with Scott. He is respectable. He will give you status, wealth, stability. This filth-" he spat toward the door Derek had walked out of-"will give you nothing but shame."

Stiles wept into her mother's lap, her body trembling. Every word felt like knives slicing into her heart. She wanted to scream that she didn't care about status, that she loved Derek, that he was the only man who had ever truly touched her soul and body.

But her father's words were chains around her throat.

"Do you understand me, girl?" he demanded.

Stiles nodded weakly, whispering through broken sobs. "Yes, Dad... I understand..."

Her mother stroked her hair, whispering softly, "It's for your own good, my child. Forget him."

But Stiles's tears wouldn't stop. Because she knew forgetting Derek was impossible. He was carved into her skin, into her pussy that still throbbed with his cum, into her heart that belonged to him forever.

Yet, for Derek's safety, for the fear that her father's threat was real, she bowed her head and surrendered.

Inside, though, her heart screamed a silent vow—

She would rather die than truly let Derek go.