Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

Chapter 97

I look both ways, realizing that I actually know very little about

this house. There’s a linen closet next to my room, and then on

the other side there’s Daniel’s room. Beyond that is the room that Fiona used, and then some other guest rooms.

I blink, realizing that–really–I have no idea where Kent sleeps.

A smirk crosses my face as I wonder if he hangs from the rafters

like some kind of evil bat. That would suit his personality, for sure.

Thinking of the rafters, though, my eyes travel up the next set of stairs, which wind slowly upwards beyond my room.

I had asked Fiona, once, where they went, but she had dismissed

the question off–hand, telling me there was nothing up there but a whole bunch of junk in storage.

I consider this for a second, mulling over her words. What kind of

of the family heirlooms and

downstairs in that

the hell did they keep

–

and frankly, bored I look around for any evidence of prying eyes and then tiptoe forward,

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top. Instead, there’s just an ugly brown plywood door, its shabby material clearly at odds

knob, and give it a twist – but it doesn’t budge.

and screw my mouth to the side. I make a mental note to ask Daniel what’s up there and, also, to look up some

and decide impulsively that if I’m denied knowledge of the storage centers above, I might as well explore those below. Without stopping to let myself think much

not avoiding eye–contact with anyone, but not initiating it either. Instead, I simply glide through as if this is precisely what I’m supposed to do as if, in fact, Kent

through the little white door, heading downstairs. Nobody stops me and

noticed me going

anymore. My experiences yesterday got rid of those, replacing them with…well, with

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consider whether that’s healthy, really. Honestly, a girl like me should have a healthy fear