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

though? Especially if all of the family

that little room

did they keep

–

evidence of prying eyes

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ugly brown plywood door, its shabby material clearly at odds with the fine woodworking in the rest of the house.

reach out a hand, firmly grasping the round knob, and give it a twist – but it doesn’t budge.

a mental note to ask Daniel what’s up there and, also, to look up

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

avoiding eye–contact with anyone, but not initiating it either. Instead, I simply glide through as if

I smile as I push through the little white door, heading downstairs. Nobody stops me and

noticed me

terror for me anymore. My experiences yesterday got rid of those,

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through me.

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whether that’s healthy, really. Honestly, a girl