Page 46 of Sexting My Ex's Dad
“Isn’t it?” I challenge, as I search his face for any sign of deceit. But all I see is the same unreadable expression, and I’m left wondering if I’ll ever truly know what’s going on behind those blue eyes.
“I don’t want you to owe me anything,” he finally speaks up. “After looking into your claims of taking care of my son, I did my research and saw that you’d spent seventy thousand dollars on him between those years. I’d paid you twenty thousand before, that day in my office, and the other fifty thousand is just clearing off his debt. Consider it my ‘thank you’ to you.”
My fingers tighten into fists at my sides, the anger building within me like a whirlwind. “Seventy thousand dollars? You honestly expect me to believe that I spent that much on your son?” My voice trembles with disbelief and indignation.
“Whether you choose to believe it or not is up to you,” Elio replies coolly, his piercing gaze never leaving mine. “But the fact remains that the money has been spent, and I have the receipts.”
“Even if that were true,” I press on, refusing to let him off the hook, “how did you get my bank account information? Are you spying on me?”
Elio leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. His enigmatic eyes seem to bore right through me, making my skin prickle with unease. “I have more information on you than you realize, Stella,” he admits, his voice low and unnervingly calm.
What…? How creepy!
My heart pounds in my chest. How much does he really know about me? And why would he go to such lengths to gather this information? The questions swirl around in my head like a storm, each one more disturbing than the last.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I snap, struggling to keep my emotions in check. “You’re invading my privacy, Elio!”
“Privacy is a luxury in my line of work,” he says cryptically, a hint of amusement flickering across his face before it vanishes as quickly as it appeared.
“So you’re saying because I don’t have a high net worth, I deserve for my life to be an open book to billionaire bullies like you?”
“Billionaire bullies?” he repeats, with a small chuckle, that does things to me it shouldn’t. “I haven’t heard that one before.”
He’s right. Billionaire bully is a perfect nickname for him.
“I don’t want your money, Elio,” I say firmly, my voice shaking with resolve.
“Send it back then,” he suggests. “Oh, right, you don’t know my banking information.”
“I have the old checks you gave me,” I remind him, triumphantly. “I have all the banking information I could need.”
“Right those checks.” He nods. “It was about time for me to create new bank accounts anyways.”
That isn’t what I’d expected. He’d close his bank accounts just so I couldn’t give him back the money. “You’re crazy.”
“You’re not the first one to tell me that.”
I stare at him. “I’m not keeping the money.”
“If you truly don’t want it, donate it to a charity of your choice. And if you never want to see me again, I’ll respect that decision.”
I blink at him, taken aback by his sudden words.And if you never want to see me again…is that what I want…to never see Elio again? That’s what I’d decided before he sent me all that money, so why do I feel different all of a certain?
I know for a fact that it has nothing to do with the money. I’m not Isobel – my goal in life isn’t to be some cooped up baby making trophy wife. But, if it’s not money, what is it? Why do I feel like not seeing Elio again would be the end of the world?
“Do you mean that? If I tell you to leave then you will?”
“You’ll have to mean it.” His eyes darken. “If you say the words, mean it, or I can’t follow through. I might have to screw you again and again…”
My breath hitches. I’d come here to chew him out, but now all I wanted was to feel his strong hands along every inch of my body.
But then wouldn’t it be the same as when he’d paid me to sleep with him? Did I want to go through that again?
“If you send me another dime, I’ll change my account details,” I snap and turn away from Elio, taking a step towards the door and away from the confusing emotions swirling within me. If I stay any longer, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop from begging for his touch.
“Stella,” Elio’s voice calls out suddenly, halting my retreat like an invisible wall. Hesitantly, I glance back at him, my pulse pounding in my ears.
“I can’t stop thinking about that night — about you, about how good you felt wrapped around me,” he confesses, his eyes seemingly staring right through mine, raw and vulnerable. “Do you ever think about it?”
