Uncle Damon's Little Voyeur 04

What the fuck is she doing here?

And why did Lydia tell her I was available? She clearly knows that Millicent is still in here. She literally has to pass by Lydia’s desk to leave.

“Bathroom.” I nod toward the bathroom door on the other end.

Milly’s cheeks are so red that she looks like a tomato. She also looks a bit scared, probably feels guilty, but I can deal with that later. Right now I have a wife to get rid of. I’m really beginning to regret my decision with Yelena. She didn’t seem this problematic when I met her.

Milly darts off to the bathroom, trying to keep her heels from clicking too loudly against the tile floor. She’s so damn cute it makes my mouth water. I wait until the door closes behind her before unlocking and opening the office door for Yelena, who is standing there with Ciara, my stepsister slash Milly’s mother.

Fucking great. There goes my good day.

Ciara pushes into the office before I can even ask what she’s doing here. Yelena follows her in and starts looking around like she was expecting to find a fire.

“Oh,” Yelena whispers in surprise. “I thought Lydia said Millicent was in here.”

“Then why the fuck would you think I was available?” I glare at her.

She bites the inside of her cheek because she knows exactly what I mean. I roll my eyes and look back at Ciara.

“To what do I owe the surprise?” My voice comes out more sarcastic than I intend.

“Can we talk?” She gives Yelena a look, then glances back at me. “Privately?”

I round the desk and look at the bathroom door briefly.

Millicent is within earshot and can hear every single word if she tries. This isn’t really an appropriate time for me and Ciara to have our usual banter. We have too many family secrets that can surface at any given moment.

That’s how much I despise her. Pretending to be good with her takes a toll on me. I want to hurt her with words every chance I can. I’m bitter and petty as fuck, but I can’t do it with Milly in my bathroom, wiping off the juices from the orgasm I just gave her.

Not when I can still taste her on my tongue.

“You can say whatever you want in my wife’s presence,” I murmur and sit on my chair.

I’m betting she won’t be able to say certain things in Yelena’s presence. Ciara is a nasty bitch, but she has her pride, and there was no way she was going to blab about fucking her stepfather, my father, for years while he was still married to her mother.

Ciara clears her throat. “Damon, please.”

“Just say what the fuck you want, Ciara,” I snap, quickly losing my patience.

“Money,” she mutters. “I need money, Damon. I have an eighteen year old in college. Don’t you think you’re being cruel?”

Okay. So it’s about Charmaine. Mommy’s little girl needs money to live lavish in college.

My father died a year ago, leaving most of his money to me, and only a portion to Ciara, who blew it within six months because she likes extravagant shit and was betting on me never getting married and inheriting dad’s company herself.

Imagine her shock when I announced my marriage to the solicitor. She looked like she was about to collapse.

I don’t have to inherit Dad’s company. I just refuse to let a cheap whore like her to run it to the ground. I’m going to take it and have it merged with mine, ensuring that Ciara has it hard for a couple of years until she gets off her butt and goes to work.

Whether she strips naked for fat men with big pockets or she waits tables at restaurants where her daughters’ peers hang out. I don’t give a fuck. As long as she works for her money and earns her keep.

“You also have a twenty-year-old who ran away from home,” I mutter, letting the venom drip heavily from my tone. “But I guess that one doesn’t matter because she’s not a slut.”

Ciara’s face tightens at the dig, but she doesn’t rise to it the way she used to. That almost disappoints me.

“Charmaine is trying,” she says. “She’s young. She made mistakes. That doesn’t mean I leave her to drown.”

“You left the other one to drown just fine.”

Yelena shifts uncomfortably near the window. I don’t look at her. This conversation was never meant for an audience, but I refuse to give Ciara the private stage she wants.

Ciara exhales through her nose. “I’m not here to fight about Millicent. I’m here because the allowance your father set aside for the girls runs out in two months. Charmaine’s tuition is due. Housing. Everything. I need you to authorize the release of the remaining trust funds early.”

“No.”

“Damon.”

“I said no.” I lean forward, resting my forearms on the desk. “The trust has rules. Age. Academic standing. Clear conduct clauses. Charmaine violated at least two of them last semester. I’m not bending paperwork because you suddenly remembered you have a younger daughter who needs money.”