📖 The Story Continues
The story doesn't end here.Continue reading the full story adaptation below and discover what happens next.
How to Tame a Silver Fox – Episode 10
Christina held the diary higher and read the next line with theatrical delight. “Dad’s friend Chris is like a DILF.” The party erupted before Harper could reach her.
Christina paused to explain the acronym for anyone pretending not to understand. Each word turned Harper’s private attraction into something vulgar and public.
Harper’s face burned. She could endure strangers laughing at her loneliness, but the thought of Chris hearing this confession was unbearable.
Christina continued. “And honestly, if he weren’t my dad’s best friend…” She let the unfinished sentence invite the crowd to complete Harper’s fantasy for themselves.
“You fantasize about sleeping with guys your dad’s age?” she asked. “Harper, that is so nasty.” The judgment was absurd coming from the woman who had propositioned Chris minutes earlier, but nobody challenged it.
“It’s not true,” Harper insisted. She fought Becca’s grip, desperate to reclaim the pages that held thoughts she had never intended to act on.
Becca laughed near her ear. “I think the bitch is in heat or something.” The people surrounding them stopped feeling like guests. They were spectators waiting to see how much pain Harper could absorb.
Christina studied Harper’s flushed face and twisted it into another weapon. “Is all this talk about your weird grandpa fetish turning you on?”
Harper’s anger collided with shame. She had invited these women because she wanted a place among them, and now they were using that longing to keep her trapped.
“Let’s cool her down,” Christina announced. She reached for a bottle as Becca tightened her hold.
Harper saw the liquid coming and panicked. “No—no, no, no!” Her protest became a string of pleas, but Christina tipped the bottle anyway.
Cold alcohol splashed over Harper, soaking her hair and clothes while the room roared. The humiliation was no longer limited to words; it clung to her skin beneath dozens of staring eyes.
Outside, Chris heard Harper shouting. Whatever restraint had kept him from disrupting the party disappeared.
He tried the door once more, then stepped back. Mark had sent him to keep Harper safe, and no locked door would make him stand by while someone hurt her.
“Fuck this.” Chris drove his weight against the entrance. The lock gave under the force, and the door burst inward.
The crash silenced the nearest guests. Chris entered with rain and fury at his back, taking in Becca’s hands on Harper, the dripping bottle in Christina’s grasp, and the diary held like a trophy.
His gaze moved to Harper’s wet face. She looked less wounded by the alcohol than by the laughter of the people she had hoped to call friends.
Chris turned on Christina with lethal contempt. “Jealous that grandpa prefers Harper over a threesome with you and your loser friend?” The crowd fell silent as Christina realized the man she had locked out had returned—and he had heard everything.
