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

all of the family heirlooms

downstairs in that little

did

–

and feeling bold – and frankly, bored I look around for any evidence

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an ugly brown plywood door, its shabby material clearly at odds with

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

my hand 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 basic lock picking methods on

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 about it- lest I chicken out

it either. Instead, I simply glide through as if this is precisely what I’m supposed to do as if,

through the little white door, heading downstairs.

noticed me going

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

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