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

Especially if all of the family heirlooms and photo

were kept downstairs in that

hell did they

–

I look around for any evidence of prying eyes and then tiptoe forward, heading up the steps without a

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

out a hand, firmly grasping the round knob, and give

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

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

either. Instead, I simply glide through as if this is precisely what I’m supposed to do as if, in fact, Kent expressly

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

me

any terror for me anymore. My experiences

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through me.

3/3

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