Page 19 of The Heiress

She’s found the small of my back. Now I’m being pulled closer, my whimpers muffled against her black shirt.

“More?” Lorde teases, moving away a few inches. She’s doing it to torture me, I know. She wants to see the look of missed desire take over my face as I note her absence from my arms. She gets it.

I don’t have the words to respond. All I can do is pull her close to me again and attack her lips as if I haven’t kissed someone in ages. It certainly feels like it. All I want is for Lorde Sheen to kiss me until I don’t know how to live without her anymore. Grab me. Hold me. Tenderly kiss me and then rough up the back of my throat with this tongue of hers. That’s not the only thing I want in my throat. My hand goes to her crotch, and although I should feel embarrassed over stroking a woman’s pussy in an abandoned alley, it gives me a thrill. The rest of me knows to save it for later when we’re alone… in a hotel room…

Our beautiful moment is spoiled by the bright flash of a light.

“Daisy!” calls some voice I’ve never heard before. Masculine. Impatient. Go getter. “Daisy DeMonte! Look this way!” Like an idiot I do that, pushing my body from Lorde’s as if I can spare us further humiliation. Nope. I’m a deer in the photographers’ flashing headlights.

The question is coming. It should be no surprise when someone immediately asks me about my father. “What will he think of this, Daisy? Isn’t your family traditional and conservative? How about your mother? Can you comment?” My heart is crashing against my ribcage as the embarrassment consumes me again. I can’t with these paps!

“What’s going on here, Daisy?” asks the first photographer. “What about your engagement? Does your father know you’re cheating on your fiancé?”

Lorde pushes away from me, shock overcoming her. More questions hurl in our direction. Everything comes crashing around me. The gig is up. Now the whole world knows everything. Lorde will never understand or forgive me. Daddy? Daddy’s going to be pissed.

Fuck.Fuck!

Chapter 10

Daisy

“What’s going on here, Daisy? What about your engagement? Does your father know you’re cheating on your fiancé?”

The guards staking my childhood home come out to greet me the moment my driver pulls up in front of the big house. Lividity fuels the fires in my heart, and soon I am choking on the fumes ofWhat has Daddy done?

When I woke up this morning, I was not an engaged woman. I was not betrothed. I was not promised to any man.

Daddy.

Daddy, what have you done?

I walk ahead of the guards, taking the front steps two at a time, something I’m only able to do when I feel inhuman. I’m so detached from the world now that I’m doing things I normally can’t.

Like storm into my father’s office with a scowl on my face.

If you haven’t been able to tell, I am a total Daddy’s girl. From the time I was born, I was Principessa. If Mama was angry at me? All I had to do was go to Daddy and cry hard enough for him to finally relent on any punishment bestowed upon me. Or at least that worked until I hit puberty and sprouted C-cup breasts overnight. The moment my father realized I was a sexual being, I… well, I stayed Principessa, but it was a look in his eye that suggested I put on a chastity belt and follow my mother’s example of being a virgin until the day I married a man of his choosing – or at least grooming.

He would really love to know how much fun I’ve had, hm? Never mind with…

Women. Oh, God, my parents have no idea that I’m queer. I’ve always thought that I’d “cross that bridge” if I fell in love with a woman. Is it here? Is that the bridge ready to crumble right before me as I prepare to enter my father’s office and deal with this?

I pass through the hallowed halls of my father’s business dealings. The man lives in his home office if he’s not somewhere else. I don’t need the guards to tell me where he is. Iknowwhere he is.

He knows where I am too.

“Daisy!” His voice echoes in the long hallway. “If that’s you, come in here!”

I fling the door open to his study. There he is. Marcello DeMonte. Third son of the prestigious DeMonte line. He’s the first one to not have a son, and at no point in my life have I been allowed to learn the family business. Without ever telling me, I quickly learned what my place would be one day.Bartering chip!

Daddy sits up in his seat, a smile tugging on his lips. Usually, I live to see my father smiling at me. I believe he thinks the sameabout me. But when I storm into his office, my face flushed in anger, all that changes.

Also, we’re not alone.

Another man – whom I do not recognize – sits in the room. He has short, dark hair. Neat black eyes. A hint of stubble on his face. Tailor-made Armani suit straight from the source itself. A hundred bucks says he’s from Italy. I admit I’m struck by how handsome he is. That quickly leaves my head, however, as I face my father once more. I should make this quick and let him get back to his business meeting.

Before I can open my big fat mouth and demand answers from my father, he motions to the man sitting in front of him. “Daisy, I want you to meet Cristiano Antonetti. I’ve been waiting a long time to introduce you both.” He’s still grinning. “Cristiano, this is my daughter I’ve been telling you all about.”

“Yes, nice to meet you.” I barely acknowledge the man with a wave. He exchanges curious looks with my father.

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