Page 71 of Her Possessive Daddies

"Speaking of which." I fold my arms as I lean on the counter. "Want to explain why you decked your godson? Bit extreme, even for you."

"He deserved it." Donovan won't meet my eyes. Or Corey's.

Corey pours another drink, this one larger than the first. "How the hell did I not know? All this time she was Chandler's ex?"

"Small world," I mutter, though my gut churns. The way she looked at all three of us tonight, before everything went sideways…

"Small world? That's all you've got?" Corey barks out a harsh laugh. "My son just accused me of fucking his ex. Called her..." He can't even repeat the word.

"He's just like his mother." Donovan paces, flexing his bruised hand. "Self-centered, entitled, narcissistic. No concept of consequences."

I take a slow sip of my drink, watching Corey's shoulders tense at the mention of his ex. "Look, this whole thing's a mess. Pretty sure Abbie didn't sign up for a family reunion when she agreed to dinner."

"No shit." Corey drains his glass. "Of all the eligible women in this city..."

Donovan stops pacing. His eyes narrow, darting between me and Corey. "Hold up. The way you two were looking at her... and that comment Chandler made..."

The silence stretches thick as molasses. Corey won't look up from his empty glass.

"You've both been with her, haven't you?" Donovan's voice drops low, dangerous.

My gut clenches. No point denying it now. "It was one night. The three of us-"

"The three of you?" Donovan cuts me off with a sharp laugh. "Jesus Christ."

"It wasn't like that," Corey snaps. "We didn't know about Chandler."

"And now?" Donovan's knuckles whiten around his glass. "What happens now?"

Donovan paces, his jaw tight, and then stops dead in his tracks. He looks at me, then Corey, like he’s about to drop a bomb.

"Yeah, okay. I kissed her. Upstairs. Might’ve... done more than that."

Corey freezes, the glass halfway to his mouth. "So she was telling the truth about that?"

Donovan runs a hand through his hair, looking guilty but notthatguilty. "When she went to the bathroom, I followed her. It just... happened. She was there, I was there..."

Corey’s face goes red. "Youwhat?"

"I fingered her. Couldn't help myself."

I lean against the counter, crossing my arms. "So let me get this straight. You’re telling me that while we were all downstairs sipping wine and pretending to be civilized, you were upstairs finger-banging Abbie in Corey’s hallway?"

Donovan shrugs, but there’s a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "What can I say? She’s... persuasive."

Corey slams his glass down so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter. "Persuasive? Jesus, Donovan! She’s half your age, and now my son thinks?—"

"And what about you, Corey?" Donovan cuts him off, his tone sharp. "You’re the one who started this whole thing. You were the one texting her, inviting her over, acting like you had some claim to her. You don’t get to play the victim here."

Corey glares at him, but I can see the flicker of guilt in his eyes.

I push off the counter, stepping between them before this turns into a full-blown fight. "Look, I’d have left too if every guy in the house had been inside me at some point. Poor thing probably feels like she’s stuck in some twisted soap opera."

Corey pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling like he’s trying to keep his temper in check. "This is a disaster. Chandler’s already insufferable enough without adding this to the mix."

Donovan crosses his arms, leaning against the wall. "Hey, I’m just saying—she’s not exactly innocent in all this. She could’ve said no."

"Could’ve," I say, raising an eyebrow. "But she didn’t. Which makes me wonder if maybe she’s got a thing for chaos. Or maybe she just likes the attention."

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