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

if all of the

were kept downstairs in that little

the hell did

–

feeling bold – and frankly, bored I look around for any evidence of prying eyes and then tiptoe forward, heading up the

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even a landing at the top. Instead, there’s just an ugly brown plywood door, its shabby material clearly at odds with the fine woodworking in

hand, firmly grasping the round knob, and

note to ask Daniel what’s up there and, also, to look up some basic lock picking

centers above, I might as well explore those below. Without stopping to let myself think much about it- lest I chicken

anyone, but not initiating it either. Instead, I simply glide through as if this is precisely

as I push through the little white door, heading downstairs.

noticed me going

realize that this place doesn’t hold any terror for me anymore. My experiences yesterday got rid of those, replacing them with…well, with

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pulses through

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