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 family heirlooms

downstairs in that little room in the

hell did they keep

–

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

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plywood door, its shabby material clearly at odds with the fine woodworking in the rest of the house. This, clearly, was installed

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

drop 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 the

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 – I hurry down the stairs and

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

works and I smile as I push through the little white

me

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

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through me.

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