Page 209 of Sinful Desires
At the top, I paused in front of a tall wooden door. The surface was smooth, polished, and etched with gold details. It had to be his office.
I exhaled hard, trying to loosen the tension wrapped around my lungs, then knocked once and opened the door.
“Look who finally had the guts to show her face.”
I closed the door behind me as my gaze traveled through the space. An over-the-top library filled with books likely no one had ever read, a grand piano, leather couches, a flat screen, and a desk overlooking the balcony with a view of Los Angeles.
My lips trembled slightly as I stepped closer.
My mom whined, drying her tears with her handkerchief, still wearing her Dolce and Gabbana white gown and pearls.
“Dolcezza, what were you thinking? You’ve gota lotof explaining to do, young lady! You’ve humiliated us in front of the entire?—”
Kiara cut her eyes up from her phone, still scrolling.
“Scar, seriously? A bodyguard? I mean, yeah, he’s drop-dead gorgeous, but still. You’re out here fucking the help when you could’ve had any Hollywood A-lister drooling at your feet?”
My mother gasped like someone had slapped her across the face. “Kiara! Language!”
She shrugged one shoulder. “What? It’s not like you and Daddy?—”
“Enough.”
My father’s voice sliced through the room. Low. Cold. Measured. Like a loaded gun with the safety clicked off.
I looked at him.
He still hadn’t turned around.
His hands were clenched behind his back. Shoulders pulled tight. Staring through the glass doors of the balcony, where the first streaks of orange were bleeding into the sky.
I could see it from where I stood. The way the veins strained along the side of his neck, thick and twitching like something alive under his skin.
He wasn’t angry. He was past that. He wasseething.
“What do you want, Scarlett?”
“Amore mio, let’s have a?—”
“Shut up,” he roared.
His voice exploded through the room, loudly enough to rattle the windows. My heart jolted against my ribs. I had never heard him scream like that. Not once. Not even at me.
My mother’s face drained of all color. She stumbled back, one hand clutching her chest.
He didn’t look at her.
“Did you know your daughter spread her legs for a fucking killer? That bastard killed his own father. Threw him off a cliff.”
Then he turned and his eyes locked on mine.
And whatever humanity was left in him disappeared.
“You arefilth. Rehab wasn’t enough. Therapy wasn’t fucking enough. We gave you chances. We gave you everything. And you still chose to drag our name through shit for a man who should be rotting in jail.”
He looked at my mother, disgust curling his lip.
“Francesca, congratulations. You didn’t raise a daughter. You raised a fucking failure.”
