Best Friend’s Daddy Obsession

Jennifer Clayton I shouldn’t be thinking about my best friend’s dad.It was completely off-limits, yet here I was, doing exactly that. Again. Like I hadn’t already had this same battle with myself a hundred times.It didn’t start out as anything major, but I guess that’s how these things go. Innocent moments that didn’t seem like much at the time—a quick exchange of glances across the dinner table, the accidental brush of our fingers when we passed a dish at Thanksgiving, the way his voice wrapped around my name, his accent smooth and intoxicating, as though each word were a gentle caress meant just for me.Those tiny moments should have been meaningless, but they weren’t. Each one burrowed deeper into my mind until he became the star of my daydreams, the person I couldn’t stop thinking about before falling asleep at night.Every. Single. Night.But it wasn’t just those moments or even his voice that had me so hooked. It was the way he paid attention when I spoke, the way his pierci

Jennifer Clayton “No, what about him?” I asked, my voice flat with disinterest, but Bellamy didn’t seem to notice.“He’s moving,” she said with a little too much enthusiasm.That got my attention. “Wait, where? And how do you even know this?”I wasn’t sure why I cared. Maybe it was because she hadn’t grilled me for spacing out earlier or because the topic of boys could keep Bellamy distracted for hours, giving me a much-needed reprieve from my thoughts about her dad.“California, I think,” she replied casually. “He told me in study hall the other day. Oh, and he asked me to give you his number.”I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess—he wants one last shot before he leaves town forever? Hard pass. You know I’m not that kind of girl.”Bellamy burst into laughter, shaking her head. “That’s not how it was with Dane last year.”Her teasing struck a nerve, and I felt my face heat. My gaze darted toward the house, but thankfully, Vincent was nowhere to be seen. I let out a quiet sigh of reli

Jennifer Clayton The sun was setting, casting fiery shades of red, orange, and yellow across the sky as I leaned down, resting my elbows on the cool granite counter. My mind was running a mile a minute. Bella was headed for trouble, and not the kind of trouble that would go unnoticed. No, this was big—dangerous, even—and Damon would be dragged down with her if anyone ever found out what was going on between them.I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. But as usual, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that nothing good would come of it. They were playing with fire, and sooner or later, someone was going to get burned.A throat cleared behind me, interrupting my spiral.I straightened up and turned toward the sound, my heart racing when I saw him standing in the doorway. Vincent . His dark eyes were fixed on me, his face set in that familiar frown that made my stomach tighten. He rested his hands against the doorframe, his fingers drumming lightly against the wood

Vincent SantoroI glanced at Jennifer , her large, expressive eyes still locked onto mine. They were full of questions—curiosity, maybe—but there was a subtle warmth to them that sent a pulse of something unwanted through me.“I’m going to get changed out of my bathing suit,” Jennifer said, breaking our gaze and turning toward Bella.“Sure, we’ll be eating dinner soon, if it’s ever ready that is,” Bella teased, her tone light and playful.“Ten minutes,” I responded, rolling my eyes at my daughter, though a faint smile played at the corners of my lips.As Jennifer walked away, I couldn’t stop my eyes from following her. There was no mistaking it—her every movement was mesmerizing. She carried herself with such confidence, a fluid grace that was impossible to ignore. But I quickly snapped myself out of it, not wanting Bella to catch on.I forced my attention back to the stove, but the task at hand—the sauce simmering before me—was barely enough to occupy my mind. The room smelled lik

I paused in front of the door, my heart beating a little faster. I glanced around, making sure no one was watching, then pushed the door open slightly. It creaked softly, revealing a dark room beyond. I hesitated for a moment, my curiosity growing with each passing second, before stepping inside.The room was small, almost like a large closet, with shelves lining the walls. I moved further in, my eyes widening at the sight before me. Several serious-looking guns were displayed neatly on the shelves, their cold metal glinting under the faint light. My breath caught in my throat.It was like a small armory.On one of the lower shelves, there were stacks of cash, each bundle tightly bound with rubber bands. My breath quickened as I noticed several passports resting nearby, each with different names but the same photo—Vincent ’s. My hands shook as I reached out, barely grazing one of the bundles. This was beyond anything I had ever imagined.A cold sweat broke out across my forehead, and