Ch. 71..75: Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad Chapter 71-75
Chapter 71
The room is...well, it's incredibly chic, as far as s*x dungeons go.
My mouth falls open as I slowly scan the room, taking in everything and trying to figure out the function of...well, all of it.
I blush horribly as I step into the room, feeling every bit the naïve virgin that I am. I know, immediately, that I am out of my league with this. Here I was thinking that all you needed for s*x as a nice comfortable bed and... Well, actually, that's here too.
I wander towards the huge four-poster bed at the center of the room. It's made of sturdy black wood and dressed with onyx satin sheets. I run my hand over the blankets, marveling at the softness of the material before my eyes catch on the series of rings built into the headboard. I look up at the posts next, and then at the square of wood that connects each of the posts above my head. Those all have rings too.
What the hell are those for?
I snatch my hand away from the bed, bringing my fingers delicately to my mouth and turning to look around more. It's actually...not at all like the dungeons I've seen on television and the internet, the few times I've been curious enough to look. Those are filled with devices and chains and...strange obscene chairs that make me blush harder when I remember them. This room, while it's clearly built for s*x - and for a very certain kind of sex - is...simpler, I suppose?
It suits Kent, I think as I look around, to have a BDSM sex room where most of the toys are neatly hidden away in tasteful, matching cabinets that line the walls. Even in here, he keeps his secrets close to his chest, locking away everything until he's ready to reveal it. I'm standing, knock-kneed and wide-eyed, still staring around the room, when I hear someone clear their throat behind me.
I gasp, spinning, and see him there - his muscular shoulders filling out the frame of the door. My eyes go even wider, if that's possible. Slowly, I let my hand drop from my mouth as he takes a step into the room and closes the door behind him.
"Hello, Fay," he says, slipping his hands into his pockets and staring at me evenly, his voice perfectly controlled. "How was your date with Ivan?"
I laugh, suddenly - a little huff of disbelief, really - at the ridiculous simplicity of the question. "Um, it was nice?" I hear myself say. "We had...tacos."
Kent frowns a little, quickly putting together that we didn't go to the restaurant he arranged for us. But he doesn't say anything. He just walks further into the room, stopping when he's a few feet from me, close enough for me to see the rough late-night stubble that has grown onto his usually clean-shaven face throughout the day. Close enough for me to look up into his hard green eyes.
"I don't show this place to everyone," he informs me, his voice soft. "And I would be...displeased. If others were to learn about its existence. I like to keep my personal life private. Is that understood?"
I nod slowly, even though the first thing that pops into my head is that I am definitely going to tell Janeen, who was going to lose her mind.
"You've signed a nondisclosure," Kent continues, looking at me closely. "If you break it, you'll lose...everything we agreed to."
I nod again, still speechless.
I mean, I'm still going to tell Janeen. But he doesn't have to know that.
"Good," he says, taking another step forward and reaching out to take me by the waist, pulling me a stuttering step closer. "Are you ready to begin?"
I blink suddenly, my eyelids moving rapidly. "B - begin?" I ask, my heartrate ratcheting up.
Oh my god. Was this for real?
Was this was this actually happening to me?
I begin to panic, just a little bit, as I stare up at him.
I think that a big part of me never thought that this was going to be real - that this was, instead, some gigantic game of chicken, with him pushing me as far as he thought I would go until I told him to say stop -
But here I am, dressed in a corset and panties, in Kent's secret sex room, with him asking me if I'm ready to begin?
My mouth goes dry, hanging open slightly, and I have absolutely no answer.
Because honestly...I don't know what I want -
But then.
I see Kent's mouth curve up, ever so slightly, as he sees the panic plain on my face. As he thinks that he's won.
And god damn it, but it lights that fire in me. I snap my mouth shut and square my shoulders, pleased when I see that smile drop from his lips.
"Sure, Kent," I say, giving a casual little shrug, feeling a new confidence flood me that I certainly hadn't had ten minutes ago - hell, thirty seconds ago. "I'm ready when you are."
Kent's eyes narrow at me and he takes a deep breath in through his nose. I watch him closely, my breath and heart rate still raised as I sweep my eyes over him, noticing the swell of his muscles beneath his shirt, the trim line of his body as it traces down to his hips, the- The heaviness there, at the front of his pants.
The panic and the thrill pulse through me anew at the sight of it, of what I've raised in him, and I feel a new perverse curiosity as well. I want, suddenly, to unbuckle his belt, to let his pants fall to the floor. To see it for myself.
Which is something totally new for me. I've never done this before - not really. Never been in a room alone with a man who was hard for me, who wants to see me naked like this, who wants to...to touch me. And who, I'm realizing, I want to touch.
I raise my eyes to his, then, and let him see me wanting it.
Kent clenches his jaw fiercely, a predator holding itself back from launching itself at its prey. I take a careful step closer, but he shakes his head and shifts his gaze.
"There," he commands, pointing over at a wall where I look to see a series of D-shaped metal anchors in a row about a foot higher than my head. "Over there, Fay."
I glance at Kent's face again but then do as he says, walking slowly over to the wall and looking up at the metal loops while Kent moves swiftly to a cabinet a few feet away. "What are these for?" I ask, staring up at them.
"I'm going to show you," Kent murmurs, coming up close behind me, so close that I can feel the heat of him radiating against me. I resist the shocking new urge I feel to lean back, to press my a*s against him -
"Hands up," he orders. "Above your head."
I comply, lifting my arms up, waiting, staring straight at the wall.
"Good girl," he murmurs, grasping my left wrist first and wrapping a wide leather cuff tightly around it. I shoot my eyes up to watch, shocked to see that the cuff has a little chain attached to it that leads to the matching cuff still in Kent's hand. I watch breathless as Kent passes the other cuff through one of the d-rings above me, and then lowers it to wrap it around my other wrist, fastening it shut.
And then...
Then I start to really freak out.
Because this doesn't feel like a game of chicken anymore.
It feels like Kent Lippert just changed me to a wall in his secret s*x chamber, and I had no way of getting out if he doesn't let me. And now I can feel him behind me, closing the distance between us.
Fuck. F**k.
"I've wanted you like this, Fay," Kent murmurs, putting his hands on my waist and sliding them down, feeling the enhanced curves of my body that the corset gives me. "For a very, very long time. And I've never waited this patiently for a woman in my life."
Chapter 72
I'm shocked and confused by the emotions that run through my body in this moment. Because one part of me - a huge part - wants me to cry out, to beg him to stop - to tell him that I'm scared, and this is too new, and too fast -
But the other part - maybe the larger part?
God damn it, but it wants him.
I am absolutely, completely freaked out by all of this but...
I am also soaking wet.
I grimace as I realize it, embarrassed and a little ashamed and totally confused. What is wrong with me, that I'd let someone chain me to their wall as part of some kind of sex contract, and that I'd like it -
"Spread your feet," Kent commands, his voice soft and ridiculously close to my ear. I jump a little, but I do as he says, moving my feet a few inches apart.
"Wider," he commands, impatient. I comply, spreading my feet until they're at shoulder width. "Good girl," he purrs, and then puts a hand between my shoulder blades, obliging me to lean forward just a little bit, until the chains holding my wrists above my head go taut.
I'm panting, now, as I feel him move his hand back to my hips, pulling me backwards just a little until-
Until I feel my a*s pressed against him, against the whole hard length of him, stiff and ready.
"See what you do to me, Fay?" Kent whispers, his voice rough. "Did you know that you make me this hard?" Slowly, desperately, I shake my head.
He moves one hand lower then, around the curve of my a*s and then shifting his hips so that there's space for him to move his hand downward, between my thighs. My panting grows rougher as I realize that he's heading, inexorably, towards...
"I'll stop," Kent murmurs, bending his body over my back, his fingers just inches from my panty line, "whenever you ask me to, Fay."
My eyes fly suddenly open at this as I realize, through my haze of desire, that it is still a game. That he's pushing me, trying to get me to balk.
But god damnit, if he thinks I'm going to be the one to...
"More," I breathe, closing my eyes, feeling my body start to tremble in fear and anticipation and need. "More, Kent," I demand.
Kent grits his teeth at her words. God damn it.
Because he doesn't want her like this.
He wants her - fuck, but he wants her, he wants to bury his c**k so deep in this girl that it makes her whole body shake, he wants to hear her groan with the feeling of him pounding himself inside of her. But not. Like. This.
He wants Fay in clean sheets, downstairs, in his bed. He wants Fay laid out before him so he can lick every inch of her body, so he can take his time making sure she's ready for him, that her pussy is so wet and aching for him that she cums the moment he presses himself inside her.
Not strapped to the wall of his chamber, this place he only takes people when...
But Kent dismisses the thought, looking down at the gorgeous girl bent over in front of him, unable to keep his eyes from roving over the curves of her ass, the way her hair spills over her shoulders.
This beautiful, innocent, sweet girl - bent over for him like this -
His cock twitches at the sight, the thought - the animal nature in him urging him to rip those panties off her body and sink himself deep into her right f*****g now.
But this...this isn't it.
"More," she gasps again, beginning to look over her shoulder, perhaps wondering what was delaying him. His body reacts instantly when she begins to peek at him and he smacks her sharply on the ass, eliciting a little sharp yelp that makes his stomach clench with want. God damn it, she is so f*****g sexy - every f*****g thing that she does makes him absolutely insane -
"You want this, Fay?" Kent growls, moving backwards and pulling his shirt over his head before moving to his belt. He's pushing her now, he knows it. He's deliberately trying to scare her, trying to get her to ask him to stop.
Because he only brought here up here to push her to her limits, to get her to submit. To admit that she wouldn't - couldn't - meet his will at every turn and turn her nose up at it. Kent wants, more than anything in this moment -
More than he wants to fuck her which is...significant -
Kent wants to break her.
He wants to tame her to his will like the wild filly she is. And to do that, he has to get her to beg him to stop. He has to push her to her limit and get her to admit that she had one.
Because this girl? She had far too much power over him, and he needs to take it back. Needs it, more than he needs to be inside her right f*****g now.
Fay starts to tremble harder, flinching as she hears his pants hit the floor. He steps out of them, his face grim, kicking the garment to the side and standing behind her again, one hand on her hip, the other slowly pumping his cock through the thin fabric of his boxer briefs. "Do you want it?" he asks again, desperately hoping...god damn it, he doesn't know what he hopes at this point.
"Yes," she gasps, her whole body tensing as if she's about to receive a blow.
Kent flinches back when he sees this, sees her frightened.
Stop, an inner voice says inside of him. It's not how this should be -
But he silences it, pushing himself forward. He moves his hand from Fay's hip back to her inner thigh, this time moving more swiftly, running his fingers across the soaked crotch of her panties. Kent grits his teeth and presses his eyes shut against the almost unbearable sound of the moan she makes, his own body starting to tremble now against the restraint he's practicing.
Kent repeats the movement, dragging his finger across her, and then - unable to stop himself - he slips that finger behind the fabric of her panties and traces the slick, agonizingly soft folds of her. She gasps, giving a little cry of pleasure and shock and fear, and slowly, his eyes closed, his breath coming short, Kent begins to press two fingers inside of her. "Stop," she breathes, and Kent freezes, his eyes flying open.
As her word brings him back to himself, Kent is overwhelmed, quite suddenly, with guilt. He pulls his hand away from her and steps away, instantly obeying her command.
"Please," she says, her voice tormentingly soft and delicate as she stands up straighter, looking over her shoulder at him with tears -
His heart and stomach wrench as he sees the tears in her eyes.
"Please," she says again, shaking her head, so vulnerable before him. "I'm...I'm a virgin, Kent," she reminds him. "I can't...like this..."
And then her lip begins to tremble and it's a knife in his gut. God, he could just hurl himself from a window right now - maybe should, for what he pushed this girl to this perfect angel of a girl -
But Kent doesn't let Fay see any of this. Instead, he just nods once and moves instantly forward, reaching up to release her wrist from the leather cuff. As he does, the weight of her other arm pulls the cuff through the ring so that she's free of the restraint. Kent steps away from Fay and watches her shakily unbuckle the clasp on her other wrist.
When she's free, she lets the cuffs and their attaching chain fall to the ground. Then she looks up at him with her beautiful doe eyes, her hair spilling around her like silk, her knees knocked together in awkward shame.
"I'm I'm sorry -" she starts.
"No," he interrupts, his voice loud and harsh, making her jump. Inwardly, he cringes at this as well. God, what the fuck was wrong with him? He presses his eyes shut tightly for just a moment, working hard to control himself, and then looks at her evenly. "You've done nothing wrong, Fay," he says. "Just go to your room."
She hesitates, but he glares at her, hard.
So she just gives a little nod and strides quickly away, passing through the door and shutting it behind her in an blink.
The moment she's gone, Kent lets himself sink to the floor, a sudden, familiar ache building in his chest, his body going weak as the pain transforms him.
He knows what it is, this old friend of a feeling. Guilt, pain, horror, anxiety - they all mix together, the perfect cocktail to kindle the panic attack that grips his body now.
And he holds on to the pain, letting it race through him, hoping, a little, that it takes him out completely for what he just did to that girl. What he forced her to, all for the sake of his pride.
He knows he deserves every bit of this, and so he welcomes the pain, submitting to it entirely.
Chapter 73
I dash from the room, pounding down the stairs that lead to the second floor, my mind set on nothing but the safety of my room, my bed, my closed door - But as I turn onto the second-floor landing, I slams into someone coming up the steps from the house's first level.
"Whoa! -" the person says, gasping in surprise and perhaps a little pain. "What -"
Frantic, I work to push beyond them, feeling and seeing nothing beyond the tears in my eyes that stream down my cheeks. I'm a bit feral now, like a rabbit doing anything it can to get back to my warren - I've just got to get inside, where I can be alone - "Fay," the voice says, worried and stern. He grasps me by my shoulders and I gasp, looking up, shocked to see Kent's face -
But no, a face like Kent's, but softer, younger - Daniel.
"Fay, are you alright?" he whispers, urgent. "What's why are you wearing that?"
I look up at Daniel, my mouth hanging open, not knowing what to say. My eyes flick to the door to my bedroom - there's no part of me that wants to have this conversation now. I just - I can't.
"I have to go," I mumble, pushing past him. I hear him call after me but I ignore it. There's a little guilt in me at this - I know that I haven't been fair to Daniel in all of this - but the guilt isn't strong enough to fight my panic, my fear, my desire to just be alone. I look once over my shoulder at Daniel as I push open my door, see him looking towards the stairs up to the third floor, putting things together. Does he even know what his dad has up there?
Before I can see what Daniel does next, though, I press my door shut, leaning against it and closing my eyes, panting a little. The dark of my room washes over me like cool water and I feel my shaking body start to ease, my pounding heart lighten.
I stand there for a long time, my forehead pressed against the door, my breath huffing hot against the white paint, my mind absolutely reeling. But as the minutes pass, and as I lean into the safety of my room, I'm able to start to put words to my emotions. God damn it. God damn it. What the hell just happened?
I push myself up and away from the door, starting to put the pieces together. Flashes of it come back to me as I move to my bed, unlacing the corset and letting it drop to the floor. Kent standing in the doorway, looking at me like a wolf at his supper. Kent wrapping a leather cuff around my wrist. Kent pressing his hand between my shoulder blades and pulling my hips back against him -
Kent moving his hand, his fingers, down the slick center of me -
I push my panties to the floor now, stepping out of them and standing naked in my room, my own hand drifting downward towards the place where Kent touched me only a few minutes ago -
Minutes, really? Was it that short?
Nobody had ever touched me like that. And as much as it terrified me, and as much as I wasn't ready for it to happen like that - chained to the wall, his to command -
There was certainly a part of me that...liked it? Maybe. I sigh, confused.
Even as I push myself to figure out how I feel, the strain and confusion of the situation washes over me. I sigh, heading for my wardrobe, wanting the comforting feel of cotton pajamas against my skin - not all of this silk and boning and laced-up restraint. As I pull on a t-shirt and a pair of pajama shorts, I consider that at the heart of it, of the whole evening, the central fact was that it was terrifying for me.
And perhaps it's just me being a baby - being so naïve, and romantic, and sheltered. But as much as it sometimes gives me pleasure and a thrill to defy Kent, and to push him, and to drive him beyond his point of control - I am not sure I want to have sex like that. At least not the first time. Because there was something about the feeling of giving up control to him that, at some moments, felt...good?
But it went too far. I don't want to have sex that scares me, that makes me cry. I just want...well, I suppose I want to be held. And comforted. Because losing your virginity is scary enough - I'm not sure chains need to be added to the equation.
I'm staring passively into the wardrobe, lost in my thoughts, when my eyes fall on it. I pull Ivan's jacket from its place balled up in the back corner, where I'd tucked it maybe an hour ago. God, an hour, is that how it really took for my world to turn upside down like that?
I pull the jacket on, wanting its comfort and the memories of the parts of tonight that were so good. I tuck my nose against the jacket's collar and take a deep sniff of Ivan's warm and spicy scent. It's strange, that two men who are so similar on paper can make me feel so completely different on the same night.
And considering my two "dates" this evening, I definitely know which one I preferred.
I climb groaning into bed, pulling my covers up over me, still shaken from my experiences but starting to feel better. Just before I drift off to sleep, I grab my phone -
Not the Kent phone, the burner. The one Janeen gave me.
And I type in Ivan's number, and send him a quick text to say goodnight.
Half an hour has passed since Fay left the room, and Kent is still laying on the floor, crippled with pain and anxiety. He presses his eyes closed against it, wanting - quite desperately - to be anywhere else, to be anyone else.
God damn it, but he hates himself right now. Hates every choice he's ever made that has led him here, to this - to laying in his underwear on the floor of his secret room, feeling like the absolute worst person on earth.
Because he knows he's made a mistake - that none of this is what he wanted, or how he wanted it, with Fay. But for the life of him, he doesn't know how to not do precisely this.
As he considers that idea, Kent scolds himself, because - obviously - he knows how to not do this. He's had sex with women in much simpler ways - normal sex, good s*x, in a bed without ropes and chains. Not every woman he's ever brought home has been locked up in this room, restrained for him. He doesn't need the kink to have s*x - sometimes it's just an extra, a bonus that allows him to explore his obsession with control.
Because that's what it's all about, after all, Kent thinks ruefully. Control. Everything is about control - controlling his life, his world, the underworld, his business ventures, the threats to his power and everything he and his family have built. He has to keep a tight fist around all of it - absolutely all of it - or it will fall apart.
And Fay -
Somehow, fucking Fay -
This wisp of a girl, this tiny, naïve, coltish thing who knows absolutely nothing about this world-
Somehow, she is the thing that threatened to undo it all. Because she makes him absolutely lose control. With her, he has no idea what he will do next.
And the intensity of how he feels towards her - how much he wants her... Yes, on one level it's a physical desire - but Kent is forced to admit, now, laying on the floor staring at his ceiling that it goes beyond that. That the magnitude of what he feels is not just a desire for a woman he seeks to control, but...
God damn it.
It's a real, true pull towards her that he hasn't felt since he first met his wife. And the pull - it's inexorable. Heavy, like the chain of an anchor wrapped around his feet. Like gravity, with Fay at the center of the earth.
And this, all of this? The scaring her, the need to break her, to make her submit - it was all a fight against the power of that pull.
But deep down, he knows, it's like the ocean fighting the moon's sway over the tides. He can crash all he wants, but Fay is the force that calls the still waters within him to her. Makes them rise so high he thinks he might drown.
Give in, the voice inside himself whispers. Just swim down.
But god damn it, he can't. He can't.
Because if Kent gives in to just this one thing, the rest will fall - like dominoes, or a loose string on a sweater. It will all fall apart.
And so Kent lays for hours on that floor, trapped, stuck like a bug pinned to a board, torn between opposing forces. The first desire, the stronger one, is to let it all collapse as he takes her in his arms. That desire's insidious twin, however, still whispers into his ear that if he just pushes a little harder...he can break her. Make her fall in line. That he can have her in his world, just as he likes her - that he can make her fit.
Kent agonizes over it, truly torn over the question of which path to take, because he knows that these are the only two paths in his life. Because any option that keeps Fay out of his life...
Well. It's just not an option. Not anymore.
Kent has to come up with a plan. But all the while that he agonizes over his two options, a voice murmurs in the back of his mind that neither of these options really considers the true threat of the situation:
The very real possibility that Fay will break him first.
And take it all for herself.
Chapter 74
In the early hours of the morning Kent comes through the door to the third floor dressed in his wrinkled clothes from the night before. He exhales a deep breath through his nose as he pulls the door shut behind him and starts downward, his eyes on his feet. "What were you doing with her in there, dad?" Kent jumps at the voice, his eyes fastening suddenly on Daniel, who sits at the foot of the third-floor staircase, his back pressed against the wall. Waiting for him.
Kent says nothing to Daniel, just stands frozen, staring at his son. Daniel looks exhausted as he slowly shakes his head. Has he been sitting there all night?
"I saw her when she came out last night, crying. You can't bullshit your way past this one, dad."
Kent's eyes narrow at his son. What, after years of having no qualms or questions about his choices in women, suddenly he wants to be involved? Suddenly he wants to play the morality police?
"Go to bed, Daniel," Kent commands, starting down the stairs again. "Don't you have a test or some other bullshit to concentrate on today?"
"Dad -" Daniel protests, getting to his feet.
Kent whirls on his son when Daniel puts a hand on his arm to stop him. "Stay out of things you don't understand, Daniel," Kent orders, taking a step towards his son to glower over him.
"She's better than this," Daniel hisses through clenched teeth, holding is ground. "She doesn't deserve to be treated like trash - like you treat all of the women who -"
"Shut your mouth, Daniel," Kent snaps, his voice low with warning, moving so close to his son that Daniel takes an involuntary step back. "You don't get to say a god damn thing to me about this. She's mine now." Kent pauses, giving Daniel a second to process that fact. "Find yourself someone else to defend, and someone else to f**k. Not that you weren't doing that already."
Daniel's mouth falls open as Kent turns away and continues calmly down the steps. Daniel knew, of course, that his dad found out about Jerome's secret visit to his room. Whether or not Kent knew it was Jerome was another question. But this was the first time, ever, that his father had ever come even close to acknowledging his secret love life.
And Daniel realizes that Kent probably knows more about Daniel and Jerome than he was letting on. And that Kent is very willing to use it as a weapon if that information carves a path to getting what he wants.
And what he wants, apparently is Fay.
Daniel clenches his fists as he watches his father's form disappearing into his office. Because Fay is his, not his dad's - she is the only good thing in this stupid world, the only thing that made Daniel feel at home. And even if he could never be a true husband to her, he still wanted her at his side as his wife. He knew he could make her happy, in the end.
And so, he was going to fight to get her back.
I groan when I hear a knock at my door.
I glance on the clock on my phone and see that it's not even six o'clock. Who the hell could want my company now? I swing my feet off of my bed, heading to the door thinking that it's even too early for my clothes to be delivered.
I pull open the door, yawning, and immediately freeze.
It's Kent standing there, in perfectly pressed suit pants and a crisp white shirt.
Kent, who never comes to my bedroom in the morning - who always waits to speak to me until I come down to the kitchen for breakfast.
I stare at him, shocked and a little afraid, as his eyes flick over me, quickly assessing my rumpled hair and my bare legs and oh my god -
Ivan's jacket.
Indeed, his eyes pause for a moment on the fine wool of the suitcoat, its long sleeves rolled up to my elbows. It's way too big for me, and Kent would certainly recognize one from his own collection or from Daniel's, so he certainly will figure out...
I see him put the pieces together as he clenches his jaw and moves his eyes back to mine. "Good morning, Fay," he says, his calm belying the anger I can see roiling behind his eyes.
"Good morning, Kent," I whisper, leaning against the doorframe, wanting the support.
Kent opens his mouth to say something but then snaps it shut, looking down again at the suit jacket and then turning his head to look down the hall. Or, at least that's the direction of his gaze. I can tell from his unfocused eyes that he's not looking at anything - just staring into space as he puts together his thoughts.
"I have new instructions for you," he says after a moment, still not looking at me. I watch him, curious, my anxiety increasing. If he just has instructions, why didn't he wait to give them to me at breakfast, like he always does?
"All right," I say quietly, waiting for him to continue.
But he doesn't. Instead, he just nods abruptly and turns away, heading back down stairs. I watch him go, baffled, but noting that he doesn't look at me again. Not once.
Almost as if he can't.
A little smirk pulls at my lips as I slowly shut my bedroom door and look down at Ivan's suitcoat. Well. That hadn't been my intention, when I put it on.... But it certainly yielded results, didn't it?
I take careful note, and then head to my bathroom to start getting dressed for my day. When I return from my shower, I see that my clothes delivery has arrived and that it contains a crisp little blazer in just my size. I smile and tuck Ivan's jacket away behind the headboard of my bed, hoping that the household staff won't find it there. I'm not ready to say goodbye to it, not just yet, and I know that if I leave it in my wardrobe today that, by this evening, it will have mysteriously disappeared.
Twenty minute later I head downstairs for breakfast, dressed in the suitcoat and chic grey slacks that Kent chose for me. It's a more formal and restrained look than I'm used to, and I'm curious about what he has planned for me. I'm certainly not going to the stables, after all - not dressed like this.
When I push through the door to the kitchen, though, the first person I see is Daniel. My stomach drops and I hesitate when he looks up to meet my gaze. He does not look happy.
Instead, for the first time since I've known him, Daniel refuses to smile at me. He just looks at me, grim. A little angry. Then, his eyes flick to the empty chair across from him, a demand as much as an invitation.
I hesitate a little longer, glancing around the room to better assess the situation. My gaze falls, on Jerome, who is likewise looking at me. Jerome gives me an exaggerated wide-eyed grimace, drawing a finger across his throat and nodding towards Daniel. His meaning could not be more clear: I'm dead meat.
Nodding towards Jerome, who gives me a sympathetic shrug, I make my way over to our little breakfast table and sit down across from Daniel.
"Good morning, Fay," he says, his voice even. I raise my eyes to glare at him a little, wondering if he realizes just how much he sounds like his dad in this moment. Who the hell was he anyway, to make me feel bad about anything, when he's sleeping with Jerome? "Good morning, Daniel." I murmur, mocking his tone a bit. I probably shouldn't, but I can't help myself.
"And just how long," he bites out, glaring at me, "have you been fucking my dad?"
Chapter 75
"Oh my god, Daniel," I spit, blushing beet red and leaning forward across the table. "Are you serious? Before coffee?"
He leans back in his chair and glares at me. "What, do you think coffee is going to make this any better?"
"Yah," I say, snatching his own tiny espresso cup from its place in front of him and quickly draining it. Screw him, I need this way more than he does.
Daniel's mouth falls open a little when he sees what I've done. "Fay!" he complains, "that's mine!"
I slam the cup back onto the table and glare at him in return. "Oops," I say, cocking my head to the side and crossing my arms over my chest as I lean back.
"You're being such a brat, Fay," Daniel hisses, leaning over the table. "I can't believe you're acting like this, after what you did to me -"
"What I did to you, Daniel?!" I exclaim, huffing in disbelief. "You're the one making crude accusations before I've barely had a chance to sit down - and what business is it of yours anyway!" "You're my fiancé! Of course it's my business!" He retorts, his voice growing louder as he gets angrier.
"Am I?" I ask, sarcastic, unfolding my arms and putting my hands flat on the table so that I can better accuse him in return. "As far as I know, you never asked me to marry you. Your dad told us we were engaged. And so, when it comes to dissolving the engagement, it seems like that was his prerogative. And besides, where were you these past few days? If we were so engaged, and so close, and so dedicated to each other, why weren't you around, begging me to come back? You were probably out somewhere, paying attention to your actual boyf-"
"Watch it," Daniel growls, silencing me and looking around anxiously to make sure nobody heard.
I sit back in my chair, feeling cowed and guilty. Because, of course, I don't want to ruin his life just because he's being a jerk to me. "I'm sorry," I say, a little bitter. "I didn't mean that. That last part. But everything else I did mean!"
"Fay," Daniel grumbles, waving a hand to dismiss it all. "I saw you come down from the third floor - I saw what you were wearing, and I know what he keeps up there."
"Do you?" I ask, my eyes going wide.
"Fay," Daniel pleads, exasperated, "can you please, for once, focus on what is actually important here?"
"Okay," I say quickly, nodding. "Sorry. It's just nuts what's up there - have you gotten to see it all? Do you know what's in all of those cabinets?"
Daniel just gives me a withering, exhausted stare and I bite my lip, realizing that I've done it again. "Sorry," I murmur, and then I look down at my hands and sigh. "Daniel, I haven't slept with your dad."
From the edges of my vision I can see him sit back in his chair in relief.
"But that doesn't mean that I won't," I continue, raising my eyes slowly to his.
Daniel's mouth falls open in disbelief as he stares at me. I blink, surprised, and realize that he was actually hoping that there had been some mistake - that there was some kind of reasonable explanation for why I was running around the third floor in my underwear.
And that actually, I may have just confirmed one of his worst fears. That he was losing his one ally in his house to his dad. I shake my head slowly, opening my mouth to tell him that I'm sorry, but suddenly a plate of food lands in front of me.
I look up, my mouth still open, to see Kent standing there, sliding a plate in front of Daniel as well. I look him over, noting the chef's apron tied tight around his slim waist, his clean-shaven cheeks below eyes with dark circles beneath them. Apparently, he got less sleep than I did last night.
I cock my head, curious about that.
"Daniel," Kent says, his voice even but unfriendly. "Don't you have class to attend?"
Daniel just crosses his arms, glaring at his dad and not responding. But Kent doesn't rise to the bait. Instead, he turns to me.
"Fay, I'd like you to go to lunch today at your father's house."
"Really?" I ask, my eyebrows raising.
Kent nods. "Yes, I need you to feel out the situation. Word has gotten out about the end to your engagement to Daniel," he continues, looking briefly at Daniel to include him in the conversation, "and that you've been spending time with Ivan. I'd like you to see how your father feels about this change. And report it back to me."
I nod, agreeing but hesitant.
"What," Kent demands, his words clipped. "You don't want to do it?"
"Oh," I say, surprised. "Um, no, I'll do it...it's just...one of the less pleasant tasks that I've been assigned."
Kent does an almost double take at these words, looking suddenly into my eyes with surprise on his face. I c**k my head to see it - I'm not sure I've ever seen Kent truly surprised before. But then I consider the meaning of my last words and realize that, of course, our encounter on the third floor last night was an assignment of sorts. And that I've just implied that lunch with my dad will be worse...
I blush, and curse myself again for my stupid tendency to do that all the time. Not only do I look like an idiot, blushing all the time, I also wear my emotions right on my sleeve.
"No," I blurt out, shaking my head and looking down at my breakfast, "I mean, it's fine. I'll do it. It won't be so bad."
"Not every assignment is going to be a date with a sexy tattooed blonde, Fay," Kent insists and I look back up at him in shock. Was he...did he just tease me? Did he just... "Did you just...call Ivan? Your enemy? A sexy tattooed blonde?"
Kent just smirks at me and laughs a little, turning away. "Your car will be ready at eleven, Fay. Jerome will drive you. Don't make me regret assigning him to you this time."
I say nothing as Kent walks away, just staring after him, wondering how he does this. Balances it all, lives a life of such extremes with such complete control. Hell, I get one knot in my plans and go to pieces, but Kent...
"Wait," Daniel says, leaning forward and interrupting my train of thought. "Did you go out on another date with Ivan? When?"
"Um," I say lightly, picking up my fork and poking at my eggs. "Last night?"
"What!?"
I sigh, looking evenly at Daniel. "Seriously, Daniel, if you want to be a part of this then you should pay more attention. You're like, the last person in this house to be aware of that." Frustrated, I start to shovel food into my mouth. Seriously, if he's so into being my fake fiancé, you'd think he'd start to pay a bit more attention to me.
I glance at Daniel as I eat and see him carefully studying me from his chair. I realize suddenly that he's coming to precisely the same conclusion as me, at exactly the same time.
"So," Daniel says, leaning forward and giving me a big smile. "Let's hang out tonight, then. Watch some movies, like we used to do."
"Okay," I say, hesitating. Because honestly, I don't know if I want to make plans if...
...if there's another box of lingerie waiting at my door tonight.
If Kent has another assignment in mind.