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MidReal Story
Accidental Inheritance
Scenario:A 18 year old boy ends up engaged to his girlfriend's father and starts a relationship with him
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Ethan
He is a young man navigating life after high school. He is impulsive, confused, and headstrong. Ethan accidentally gets engaged to his girlfriend's father during a misadventure in Las Vegas. He struggles with the consequences of this accident and his feelings for Ethan Sr., his fiancé's father. His relationship with Owen becomes complicated as he tries to figure out how to undo the engagement without hurting anyone.
Ethan Sr.
He is an older man who accidentally became engaged to a young man named Ethan during a Las Vegas trip. He is caring, considerate, and unintentionally complicating. His daughter's boyfriend accidentally hooks him into an unexpected marriage agreement with the younger Ethan. He tries to resolve the situation amicably and respects the bond between himself and his daughter despite the complications it brings.
Kacey
She is Morgan's best friend and a supportive presence in her life. She is curious, loyal, and straightforward. Kacey notices changes in Morgan's mood and tries to get to the bottom of them. She offers her friend emotional support during her conflicts with Ethan and attempts to understand the complexities of their accidental relationship dynamic.
I was supposed to spend the weekend in Las Vegas with my high school friends, but I ended up spending it with a man twice my age.
I wasn’t supposed to get engaged, but I did.
And now, I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with him, even though I barely knew him.
I made a terrible mistake, and now my life was a mess.
"Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what happened this weekend?"
Owen asked, his voice laced with amusement.
We were in the car on our way back home, and I was trying my best to avoid the subject.
But it was hard when the man who was currently my fiancé was also the father of my girlfriend.
I didn’t know how to get out of this situation, so I kept quiet and avoided Owen’s gaze.
He knew something was up, but he didn’t know the details yet.
And I wasn’t ready to share them.
Not when I still didn’t understand them myself.
"Come on," he pressed.
"You can’t just leave me hanging like that. What happened in Las Vegas?"
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I tried to gather my thoughts into order.
"I got engaged."
Owen’s eyes widened in shock, but he didn’t say anything else.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter, forcing myself to think back to the events of that night.
The neon lights of the casino had been blinding, and the music from the dance floor pulsed through my body.
I had been looking for Morgan in the crowd, but I couldn’t find her anywhere.
That was when I saw him - a familiar silhouette that made my heart race.
Without thinking, I had approached him from behind, wrapped my arms around his waist, and whispered sweet nothings into his ear.
He had turned around, and I had realized it wasn’t Morgan.
It was Ethan Sr. - Morgan’s father.
But before I could apologize and run away, we were swept up in the moment.
The crowd around us cheered as he slipped a ring on my finger, thinking we were part of the casino’s engagement promotion.
Back at my apartment, Owen paced back and forth while I slumped on the couch, still wearing the ring.
He suddenly stopped in his tracks and stared at something on my bookshelf.
I followed his gaze to a framed photo of Morgan’s family.
Her parents were standing in front of their mansion, while she and her brother sat on the steps.
There's something you should know about the Winters," Owen said, sitting down next to me on the couch.
"My mom used to work for them. They have this old tradition - arranged marriages to preserve family alliances."
I sat up straighter, my heart pounding in my chest.
"What do you mean?"
Owen pulled out his phone and opened an old newspaper article about the Winters family.
Their business empire was built through strategic marriages, he explained.
Morgan’s grandparents had married into a rival family to secure a merger.
Her parents had done the same thing, uniting two powerful corporations under one name.
I pace outside Ethan Sr.'s office building during lunch hour.
The engagement ring is safely tucked away in my pocket, and I'm determined to return it to its rightful owner.
As I enter the lobby, the security guard eyes me suspiciously.
"Can I help you?" he asks gruffly.
"I'm here to see Mr. Winters," I reply, flashing my ID badge.
The guard narrows his eyes but doesn't press further.
He nods curtly and steps aside, allowing me to pass.
I make my way to the elevator bank and press the button for the 42nd floor.
As I wait, I catch a glimpse of myself in the polished elevator doors.
My hair is disheveled, and my shirt is wrinkled from a long morning at work.
Dark circles under my eyes betray the sleepless nights spent agonizing over this predicament. The elevator arrives empty, and I step inside with a sigh of relief.
As the doors close, my phone buzzes with an incoming text from Owen: "Have you done it yet?"
I ignore the message and watch the floor numbers tick upward on the display above the doors.
Standing in Ethan Sr.'s office, I grip the ring tighter in my pocket as he reviews documents at his desk.
The afternoon sun casts long shadows across the room's marble floors.
His secretary had waved me in without announcement, leaving me frozen by the door.
The familiar scent of his cologne fills the air, reminding me of that night in Vegas.
I take one step forward, then another, but stop halfway to his desk.
He looks up, his expression softening when he sees me.
"Ethan," he says warmly, setting down his pen.
"I'm here to return something that doesn't belong to me," I say, placing the ring on his desk.
He freezes, his eyes widening as he stares at the ring.
Then, slowly, he pushes it back across the desk toward me.
"I can't accept this return," he says, standing up.
My mouth goes dry as he walks around his desk to stand inches from me.
His cologne overwhelms my senses, and I try to step back but my feet won't move.
Before I can speak, his hand cups my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek.
My heart hammers against my ribs as he leans in closer.
His lips press against mine, soft and insistent.
My mind goes blank as his lips move against mine.
The familiar scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body make my knees weak.
I know I should pull away, but I can't resist the pull of his touch.
His hand slides from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me closer.
The ring on his desk catches the afternoon light, glinting accusingly.
My heart races with guilt over Morgan, but I can't resist anymore.
I step forward, eliminating the space between us.
My arms slide around his waist as his lips move against mine.
I'm breathless and lost in the moment, my mind clouded with desire.
The phone on his desk rings, jolting me back to reality.
He pulls away, his eyes filled with regret.
"I have to answer this," he says, picking up the receiver.
I step back, my heart pounding as I try to make sense of what just happened.
Through the receiver, I hear Morgan's voice on the other end of the line.
"Hey, handsome," she says brightly.
"Are we still on for dinner tonight?"
I feel a wave of nausea wash over me as I listen to her voice.
I try to step further away, but Ethan Sr.'s hand finds my waist, holding me in place.
"Yeah," he says into the receiver.
"I'll pick you up at seven."
He pauses for a moment, then adds, "Love you too."
As soon as he hangs up, I try to pull away from him again.
But he holds me firmly in place. "Ethan," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I can't do this. Morgan is my friend."
His expression turns serious as he looks down at me.
"Morgan knows about us," he says quietly.
"She saw how I looked at you in Vegas."
I shake my head, unable to believe what he's saying.
"That's not possible," I say, trying to step away again.
But he holds me firm against him.
"She told me to pursue my happiness," he continues.
"With you."
My head spins as I try to process his words.
The tension in my shoulders begins to release, and I let myself relax against him.
His familiar cologne fills my nose, and my racing thoughts begin to slow.
When he brushes his thumb across my cheek again, I close my eyes and let myself sink into the sensation of his touch.
The guilt that's been eating at me for weeks begins to fade away as I realize I don't have to choose between them.
Without opening my eyes, I turn my face into his palm and press my lips against it.
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest.
His fingers trace patterns on my back as I stand in his embrace.
The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the floor of his office, and the distant hum of traffic filters through the open windows.
His chest rises and falls steadily against mine, and his heart beats in a steady rhythm.
When he shifts his weight, pulling me even closer, I inhale sharply.
His cologne fills my lungs - sandalwood and something spicy I can't quite name.
My hands grip his suit jacket tighter as he tilts his head down.
His lips brush against my ear, making me shiver.
"We should get going," he says softly.
"There's a company gala tonight, and I want you to be my date."
I follow him to the elevator, still tingling from our moment in his office.
As we descend, he explains that there's a company gala tonight and asks me to be his date.
The elevator doors open to the lobby, where a few employees mill about.
Instead of stepping away from me, he pulls me close and kisses me deeply.
I hear whispers and gasps around us, but his lips are soft and insistent against mine.
When we break apart, his eyes sparkle with mischief.
I lean against the lobby wall, still reeling from our public display.
Employees hurry past us with furtive glances, but he doesn't seem to care.
My lips tingle where his touched mine just moments ago.
He steps closer, his broad frame shielding me from prying eyes.
The familiar scent of his cologne fills my lungs as he leans in, his breath warm against my ear.
His fingers trace my jawline while he whispers those words that make my heart race.
The intimacy of his confession in such a public space sends shivers down my spine.
"I've been waiting for the right moment to tell you," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the chatter.
"Tell me what?" I ask, my curiosity piqued despite the chaos around us.
"I'm leaving the company," he confesses, pulling back slightly to gauge my reaction.
