Her Dad’s Best Friend

Chapter 41

Her hair smells fresh and clean.

Her body is soft. I can feel her curves pressed against me, and then I'm suddenly and violently hard. I'd

like to take her upstairs to my bed, but I already decided in the car that I'm not an utter bastard. Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Pity.

I carry her inside. Someone else will take her suitcase in. I need to get the wheels turning to finish her

move here, but all I want to do is hold her.

I walk upstairs and put her in the room next to mine. I pull off her shoes and tuck her into bed. I get into

bed beside her. I turn to her. I can see half of her face this way. Her hair spreads on the pillow and

conceals part of her face.

She looks so young and innocent in this bed. I feel something else I haven't felt in years: guilt. She’s

just a young girl who was unlucky enough to have a crooked father.

Can I punish her for the sins of her father?

Chapter Six

Mascara

Kelly

When I wake up, I can smell Iacopo. I don't open my eyes. I listen. There's definitely somebody

breathing in this room. I can hear a chair creak as he shifts his weight.

I might as well get this over with. I open my eyes.

I'm not looking at Iacopo.

There's a guy sitting in a chair next to my bed.

"Who are you?" I look down and realize that I'm fully clothed. Thank God.

"My name isn't important," he says in a whisper. "I'm here to deliver a message from your father."

"What message?"

He hands me a cell phone. "Hide this. Don't let Iacopo see it."

"Who are you? Why are you here?" I’m sitting up and my voice is getting louder.

But he's already walking out of the room.

My dad is a fast worker. Well, I guess he already knew what was going to happen for a few days. I look

at the phone. There's no way to tell where this came from.

Is this a weird test from Iacopo? If it really is from my dad, I do need to hide it, though. I go to the

nightstand and put it in the very back of the drawer. It's not a sophisticated hiding place, but I don't

have a lot of options right now.

I stretch. In the mirror across from my bed, I have flakes of black mascara on my cheeks. My hair looks

like a frizzy mess, like one of those troll dolls gone horribly wrong. I need to wash my face and hope

that I have a change of clothes somewhere.

I walk into the bathroom. There's a huge variety of everything and anything a woman needs. I swallow

hard. This room must be where Iacopo keeps his...girlfriends? Women? Prostitutes? I don't know, but it

makes me feel like I'm one woman in a long string of them.

It's hard to think of Iacopo as some kind of Casanova, a Casanova who decided to steal me from my

dad. I can feel my heartbeat getting faster as I think about what he could do to me.

I have no idea what the future holds. It's a dramatic change in our relationship to be his...

Captive? Girlfriend? I don't know what to call myself.

I feel myself. No bruises. No marks. He hasn't hurt me yet. And I'm hoping that he doesn't hurt me. Two

days ago, I would've told you that there was no way that Uncle Iacopo would ever do something like

this. But that was before I learned about my dad's theft. Now it seems like the regular rules just don't

apply.

I just have to keep my chin up and think about the phone that's hidden away. It's my lifeline, my only

connection to my dad.

My head turns as I hear the door open.

Chapter Seven

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