Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father by Caroline Above Story

Chapter 97 

I look both ways, realizing that I actually know very little about 

this house. There’s a linen closet next to my room, and then on 

the other side there’s Daniel’s room. Beyond that is the room that Fiona used, and then some other guest rooms. 

I blink, realizing that–really–I have no idea where Kent sleeps. 

A smirk crosses my face as I wonder if he hangs from the rafters 

like some kind of evil bat. That would suit his personality, for sure. 

Thinking of the rafters, though, my eyes travel up the next set of stairs, which wind slowly upwards beyond my room. 

I had asked Fiona, once, where they went, but she had dismissed 

the question off–hand, telling me there was nothing up there but a whole bunch of junk in storage. 

I consider this for a second, mulling over her words. What kind of 

storage, though? Especially if all of the family heirlooms and photo 

books were kept downstairs in that little room in the basement… 

what the hell did they keep upstairs? 

– 

Suddenly curious, and feeling bold – and frankly, bored I look around for any evidence of prying eyes and then tiptoe forward, heading up the steps without a sound. 

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Surprisingly, there isn’t even a landing at the top. Instead, there’s just an ugly brown plywood door, its shabby material clearly at odds with the fine woodworking in the rest of the house. This, clearly, was installed late. 

I reach out a hand, firmly grasping the round knob, and give it a twist – but it doesn’t budge. 

Disappointed, I drop my hand and screw my mouth to the side. I make a mental note to ask Daniel what’s up there and, also, to look up some basic lock picking methods on the internet. 

Shrugging, I skip back down the steps and decide impulsively that if I’m denied knowledge of the storage centers above, I might as well explore those below. Without stopping to let myself think much about it- lest I chicken out – I hurry down the stairs and push through the kitchen door. 

I walk confidently across the kitchen, not avoiding eye–contact with anyone, but not initiating it either. Instead, I simply glide through as if this is precisely what I’m supposed to do as if, in fact, Kent expressly told me to do it. 

My tactic works and I smile as I push through the little white door, heading downstairs. Nobody stops me and I think – nobody 

really noticed me going by. 

As I reach the hallway below, I realize that this place doesn’t hold any terror for me anymore. My experiences yesterday got rid of those, replacing them with…well, with a little tremor of excitement 

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that pulses through me. 

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I consider this, for a moment consider whether that’s healthy, really. Honestly, a girl like me should have a healthy fear of the 

mob boss’s torture chamber basement. I was still naïve and new to this world – there was still so much danger here for me, and yet here I was, walking through without a care. 

Really, seriously, who was I anymore? 

As I come to the end of the hallway and push through the door into the archives room, I realize that a big part of me…doesn’t really care about the changes that I’m going through. That I like myself like this – this bold, somewhat careless new Fay. 

Maybe this new version of me was just some kind of trauma response to what happened yesterday? But, I shrug as I stand in the middle of the room. Whatever. It’s better than being terrified all 

the time. 

I take a minute to look over the stacks of porn sitting in the corner, but then I shake my head, deciding against it. I am definitely curious – especially knowing that some of it is Kent’s homemade. stuff – but…no. Not today. 

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Chapter 98