Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad

Chapter 0059

I just shrug and shake my head as I climb out of the door, letting him know that I have no idea.

I see that Kent has left chaos in his wake on the way to his office, people standing in the hallway

staring after him with worried expressions. As I walk slowly into the house, I see Daniel come down the

stairs. He catches my eye.

“What happened?” he whispers, looking concerned, but before I can answer Kent comes out of his

office again, fury in his every line.

“You two,” he demands. “Upstairs.”

“Dad,” Daniel says, taking another step down, putting out a hand to offer to help –

“I said upstairs!” Kent yells, and Daniel and I both jump. I scurry to where Daniel is standing on the

stairs, grabbing his arm and pulling him up with me.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” Daniel whispers to me as he follows.

“I don’t know,” I whisper back, pulling him towards my room. He comes in with me and I shut the door

behind us. But even the door can’t block out Kent’s next bellow.

“Fiona! Get down here! Now!”

Daniel stays in my room with me for a while. He won’t admit it as readily as I do, but we’re both scared

to leave. We watch old movies, surviving on bottled water and some gummy bears that Daniel had

stored away in his room.

Eventually, though, he has to go to his night class. He apologizes as he goes, looking back at

sorrowfully as he leaves. I think he knows that I’d pay anything to be go with him right now.

I wait for a little bit, my eyes on the door to see if Fiona will come. Hardly a night passes when she

doesn’t stop by my room to say goodnight, at the very least.

But there’s no sign of her.

A couple of hours pass with no word from anyone and my stomach starts to growl so hard I can’t stand

it. I haven’t eaten anything real since my blueberry muffin that morning, and I’m starving.

Hesitant, I peek out my door. The whole house is silent, no guards or servants anywhere. Curious, I

step out into the hall further, looking around. Still, no one.

I creep down the stairs, walking as softly as I can, but still, I encounter no one. Anxious, I hurry towards

the kitchen, hoping there’s something easy to grab.

When I push open the door, though, the kitchen too is empty. I step into the room, marveling, never

having seen it quite so silent. My stomach growls loudly then, prompting me forward.

I scurry over to the giant industrial fridge, pulling it open. Seeing that it’s well stocked with food, I grab a

clean plate from the dish rack and start to fill it up. French bread, cheese, some prosciutto and fruit – I

smile at my haul, excited. Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

As I close the fridge, though, I hear a noise.

It’s a groan – thick with misery, but so quiet that I’d never have heard it if the house itself hadn’t been

as silent as the grave. I go very still, my eyes darting immediately to the small white door that leads

down into the basement, waiting to see if it comes again.

I almost leap out of my slippers at the next sound, though – a heady shriek that turns into a horrible,

horrible scream.

Reacting on instinct, I run for the door to the kitchen, almost dropping my plate of food as I push

through it and dash down the hall. I press the food against my chest as I run up the steps, not caring if I

stain my sweater, heading right for my room.

I’m panting as I slam my door shut, pressing my back against it.

What the hell was that?

Or more importantly, who?