Page 26 of One Week With My Dad's Best Friend

He told you that you were his.

I smile as tingles warm my body at the idea of having his baby.

Then the doubts creep in.Would his ex-wife release the video?

But the real problem is, I should discuss with him about my mother’s problem with conceiving and that it is hereditary. It could take years for me to get pregnant.

Anton is thirty-two—does he want to wait that long?

My heart clenches at the thought.

Could I let him go now?

I’d fantasized about Anton for too long, and now he’s mine. I’m living in his house, albeit temporarily. But this is what it would be like if we lived together permanently. Opening my eyes to him in the morning. Smelling his scent everywhere I went.

I smile as I pull the handle to the door, ready to go in search of him.

I pad my bare feet across the hallway before taking small steps down the staircase. I don’t want to interrupt him if he is on a business call.

At the bottom of the staircase, I can’t hear him, so I walk down the long hallway to the family room at the rear of his home.

It overlooks the lush green garden, and I know he likes to sit outside when it’s dark, especially when he has a hard day.

But as I reach the end of the hallway, I stop and see Anton staring ahead of him. I can’t see what he is staring at, but his back rises and the silence is gone.

“You always were trash, Cassandra,” he hisses. His voice is full of venom.

“Oh, Ant, darling. You know you don’t mean that.” Her voice is a mixture of sexy and threatening. “Half a million, and I will keep your bit of fluff a secret.”

“You are a fucking bitch,” Anton growls, and I’ve never heard him sound so mean, so brutal before.

I peek around the wall and see Cassandra standing there holding a glass of wine.

Why is she drinking wine?

His ex-wife is tall, close to six-feet, and much taller than me. She’s in a tight black dress and knee-high boots. There’s a leather jacket thrown over the back of the stool she is sitting on.

“Does her father know about you?” she asks as she knocks back her wine.

Anton growls. She knows the situation between us, but she obviously doesn’t know I’m staying at his home.

I move back behind the wall so they don’t know I’m there. I listen.

“Why don’t we give our marriage another try? We didn’t fight for each other. We let each other go far too easily,” she says.

I wait for his answer, but he is silent.

“And then I will keep the video I have of the two of you fucking in your office a secret,” she says. “I destroy the photos of you and Scarlett in the car together.”

She is blackmailing him.

Footsteps sound over the porcelain tiles and I want to see what is happening but scared to look. Scared to find out he always wanted his wife.

“The photos mean nothing,” he growls.

I hold my breath, but I can’t stop the thundering of my blood as it gushes around my body, landing in my ears, deafening me as I contemplate what this means.

The photos mean nothing.

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