The Balcony Caused It

DAMON

When I walked into the office, my secretary Britney strutted in with one of her usual short skirts and tight shirts—like her boobs were ready to spill out any second.

She bent over the table to hand me some files, and I knew they weren’t even necessary. But as always, she just didn’t know when to stop.

I never slept with a woman more than once. Britney was like the rest—just a tool to satisfy a quick need. But this morning, I’d kissed someone who could be my daughter like she had me under a damn spell.

I shook the thought away quickly.

"What files are these?" I asked, flipping through the papers.

"Mr. Ronald sent them. He said they’re confidential, so I didn’t check what’s inside," she replied in that sultry voice of hers that used to get to me. Now, it just made my skin crawl.

As annoying as she was, Britney was loyal and one of the best staff I had. And yeah—she was hot. I rolled my eyes and looked back at the file.

"You can leave," I said flatly, making it clear I didn’t want more of her drama.

Then I clenched my fists when I saw what was in the file.

"How the f*ck did Ronald get his hands on the oil wells without me hearing a damn thing?"

I grabbed my phone and dialed a number I never thought I’d call again. The last person I wanted to talk to.

His voice came through the speaker, smug as ever.

"Hello, Damon. I figured you'd call sooner or later. Guess you’re more desperate than I thought."

"How the f*ck did you buy the wells? You know damn well they’re not yours. No one was supposed to touch them."

My blood was boiling.

"He’s dead, Damon. The dead don’t deal with money. You left the wells behind—left cash sitting there for the taking. The government’s broke. They can’t fund new oil wells or even refine oil. You and I—we’ve always been monopolists. We love control."

His words hit like a punch to the gut.

I looked at the picture on my desk. Christian. He was a good man. He could’ve stopped Ronald from messing with that site.

"Stay away from the wells. I don’t want to see your f*cking face anywhere near that place. You don’t have the right, Ronald."

But deep down, I knew this wasn’t over. And the last thing I wanted was to spill blood again—not after what happened ten years ago.

"There’s one way you can stop me without paying a dime," he said, his voice cold.

I knew where this was going.

"Come back to the mafia game. The government doesn’t trust me without you."

I clenched my fist hard. I wanted to punch this bastard through the phone.

"F*ck you, Ronald," I spat before ending the call.

I looked back at the photo. Christian smiling, handing me a hockey ball.

His daughter looked just like him.

His daughter... I closed my eyes tight. Flashbacks of last night hit me hard—her moans, her cries as I fingered her like I owned her. The way she called me "Daddy"...

I rushed to the restroom.

My pants were suddenly tight. I unzipped, and my c*ck sprang free, already hard and begging. All I could see in my mind was her mouth wrapped around me, her eyes looking up like she needed me.

I threw my head backwards as I started stroking, my grip firm. Pre-c*m already leaked out.

I couldn’t stop. I kept thinking of her. My good little slut.

"Fck, fck you, Annabel!" I groaned as I came hard, my seed splattering all over the cold marble wall.

Right then, I knew it—my best friend’s daughter was going to destroy me.

ANNABEL

I never thought I’d be attending a school like this. Primes College—one of the most elite colleges in New York. My dad sent us to private schools, yeah, but never anything this expensive.

As the driver dropped me off, I headed to my new class. I wasn’t starting college from scratch—I was already in my third year. I had good grades back home. I didn’t even know how I got into this place.

Daddy...

"Daddy..."

I whispered it. The word made me feel weird, excited. I knew I shouldn't think like that, but last night changed everything.

He kissed me. And now, here I was—in a rich school, in the right grade, like magic…

"Girl, watch where you’re going."

A sharp voice snapped me out of my head. I looked up and saw three girls glaring at me. The one in the middle looked like the boss—a queen bee with a death stare.

I swallowed hard but held my ground.

"Sorry," I said quietly, not really meaning it.

She stared at me down, like she expected me to back off, but I didn’t. She huffed and walked off with her crew.

"You’re pretty bold," someone said behind me.

I turned around—and wow. The guy was hot. Not Daddy-hot. But still.

"F*ck, again," I whispered.

"She’s not scary. Just spoiled," I said to the guy, who looked a little older but in a good way.

"Haha, I’m Michael," he said, reaching out to shake my hand.

I hesitated, then took it. Maybe I’d finally made a friend.

"Looks like we’re heading to the same class—history," he added, stepping aside so I could walk beside him.

"Yeah," I said.

We chatted as we walked. He was easy to talk to.

************

I flopped on my bed after class. First day wasn’t too bad. I didn’t dress like the rich girls, but being here made me feel like I belonged.

No one picked on me, and I had a new friend who even paid for my lunch. I smiled.

"Didn’t know rich people could be this nice," I whispered.

Then the smile faded.

Why had I never seen my dad and Damon together? Why wasn’t my dad rich like Damon?

I shook it off. Not everyone gets lucky in life.

Night came fast. I ate alone in the big dining room again. Back home, we always ate as a family. I missed that.

"I miss home," I whispered, staring out at the balcony.

I hadn’t even realized I had a balcony. If I had known, maybe I wouldn’t have almost f*cked my dad’s best friend.

A knock came. The butler walked in.

"Please take this to the master. All the maids are in their quarters, and it’s too late to call them back. Since you’re closest to him now, he won’t mind."

He handed me a tray. My hands shook. This was the last thing I wanted.

What if the thoughts I’d been having all day turned into something real?

"Alright... I’ll take this to... Daddy. Oops, I mean Uncle Damon."