Dad?
DAD!
What. In the actual. Fuck.
Just when I think this thing with Vincent can’t get any more complicated… This motherfucker has a child. A freaking daughter. A beautiful little golden-haired girl.
I’m not good at guessing ages but I’d put her around 10. She’s beautiful and petite and she looks nothing like Vincent. She’s the light to his dark. Except for the eyes. There’s no mistaking those striking dark orbs. And for some disturbing reason, the knowledge that he had a child with some woman has my heart folding in on itself. A detail that he definitely didn’t mention in the little rundown of his life that he just gave me.
“What are you doing here, princess?” Vincent greets her with a complicated fist bump.
“Sorry!” Brent rushes into the office a moment behind the little girl. “I told her you were in a meeting but when the phone rang, she snuck past me.”
The girl rolls her eyes. “Come on, Brenty. Dad told me he has an open-door policy. That means I can come in whenever I want.”
“I’m so sorry, sir.” Brent says again, still standing behind the child, wringing his hands.
Vincent waves him off. “Don’t worry about it. We just finished.”
I feel a flush crawl up my cheeks at his choice of words.
Brent’s eyes dart to me and I watch his eyebrows go up, just a little. The blush on my face grows stronger and I hope like hell that my lips aren’t red and puffy from sucking his boss’s dick. Not to mention the fact that there’s nothing I can do about my suddenly wild hair. There’s literally no good reason for me to have pulled my bun loose during our meeting, and we both know it. I can only pray that Brent doesn’t say anything. To anyone. Ever.
When I move to grab my folder off the desk, I feel all the attention in the room turn to me. Doing my best to act casual, I school my features and meet the eyes watching me.
Vincent’s daughter’s stare is full of judgement. People always overlook kids, but they see more than anyone gives them credit for. And this kid is seeing straight through our bullshit and she’s not impressed.
Vincent watches me, devoid of emotion. No sign of the man who just frantically brought me to orgasm. No sign of the man who gently tucked a section of my hair behind my ear after roughly plunging himself down my throat. No sign of recognition at all. Just the blank face of a man who clearly intended to keep his child a secret.
I force a smile onto my lips. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Mazzanti. I’m sure I’ll come up with some more questions for you.”
Not waiting for a dismissal, I stride out of the office as quickly as possible, avoiding eye contact with Brent as I slip past him.
