Sexting My Ex’s Dad (Forbidden Silver Foxes)

4. Stella

4

STELLA

I stand before the towering glass building that houses TerraVolt, my heart pounding in my chest. The enormity of the structure mirrors the weight of my apprehension as I prepare to confront Elio Lombardi. I take a deep breath and walk towards the entrance, determined to not let my fear hold me back.

“Excuse me, miss. You can’t enter without a badge,” a security guard says gruffly, his arms crossed over his chest as he blocks my path.

I steady myself. “I have an appointment with Elio Lombardi,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. The guard raises an eyebrow skeptically, clearly unimpressed by my claim.

“Name?” he demands, holding out a tablet for me to sign in. I scribble my name and watch as the guard scrutinizes it. After what feels like an eternity, he nods curtly and hands me a visitor’s badge. “Don’t remove this or you’ll be escorted out.”

“Thank you,” I mumble, attaching the badge to my blouse and stepping into the bustling lobby. Employees weave through the crowd like bees in a hive, their faces buried in screens and their fingers tapping away at devices. I feel adrift in this sea of activity, unsure of where to go or whom to ask for help.

“Stella March!” A stern-looking receptionist calls my name and waves me over. I approach her quickly, grateful for the assistance. “Mr. Lombardi is expecting you. Please follow me.”

As she leads me through a maze of corridors, I steel myself for the impending confrontation with Elio Lombardi. This meeting could change everything for me, but only if I find the courage to fight for what I deserve. I follow the receptionist through a set of imposing double doors.

The moment the doors open, my breath catches in my throat. Before me stands Elio Lombardi, his magnetic charm radiating from him like an aura. He leans against the massive desk dominating his office, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that accentuates his commanding presence. His salt-and-pepper hair frames a face that is both handsome and distinguished, while his piercing blue eyes seem to look right through me.

Hot was an understatement.

“Miss March,” he greets me, his voice smooth and confident. “Please, have a seat.” He gestures toward one of the leather chairs positioned across from his desk.

Stop thinking about how attractive your ex-boyfriend’s dad is.

“Mr. Lombardi,” I reply, trying not to let my nerves show as I take my seat. “I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.”

“It was a surprise to me that you reached out,” he says, settling into his own chair and folding his hands on the desk before him. “Now, what can I do for you?”

My heart races as I gather my thoughts, determined to make my case clearly and convincingly. I’ve come this far; there’s no turning back now. As I speak, Elio’s intense gaze never wavers, his attention solely focused on me. I can’t help but feel drawn to him, captivated by the enigmatic man sitting across from me.

“Mr. Lombardi, I’m here because...” My voice falters momentarily, but I press on. “I would appreciate your help in a matter.”

“Go on,” he encourages, his tone measured and attentive.

“Your son, Owen...” I begin, hesitating as I search for the right words. “He left me in a difficult situation, and I believe it’s only fair that I receive some compensation for what I’ve gone through.”

Elio’s eyes narrow slightly, but he remains silent, prompting me to continue.

My pulse races, and I force myself to focus on the task at hand. “I’m not sure if Owen mentioned it, but we were in a relationship for quite some time.”

“I am aware he is in a relationship, yes,” Elio replies, his tone neutral.

“Correct,” I confirm, feeling a slight flush creep onto my cheeks. “Well, we were in a relationship. We’re no longer together.”

Elio nods, his eyes never leaving mine. The intensity of his gaze makes my heart pound even harder, but I know I must stand my ground. “Well, then you should also be aware that I supported your son for four years while he went to college and worked two jobs to get him through it. I want reimbursement for the security deposit on our apartment which I was told came to you, and compensation for taking care of Owen all these years.”

There, I said it. My heart hammers in my chest as I await his response.

A smirk plays at the corner of Elio’s lips, and I can tell he’s amused by my audacity. His eyes glint with intrigue as he leans back in his chair, studying me like an interesting puzzle.

“Ms. March,” he begins, his voice smooth as velvet, “I must say, it’s not often that someone has the courage to make such demands of me.”

My heart races, but I refuse to let his words intimidate me. I cross my arms, raising my chin defiantly, and stare back at him, undeterred. “Perhaps they should,” I retort, surprised by the confidence in my own voice.

Elio raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed by my persistence. He steeples his fingers together, resting his chin on them as he regards me thoughtfully. “I don’t see what you and my son’s relationship has anything to do with me.”

He’s right…it doesn’t have anything to do with him directly however that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a part to play. “I loved your son. Owen left me with nothing, after everything I’ve done for him. I can’t even stay in our apartment anymore because I can’t afford it. You run an empire, and he’s your son. It’s a bit crazy that I took care of him anyways, considering you’re his dad and, quite frankly, loaded. Where were you? Why was I doing all of the work?”

For a moment, silence fills the room, so thick I could almost choke on it. Elio seems to be weighing my words carefully, his expression inscrutable. My heart hammers in my chest, anticipating his response.

Finally, he reaches into the drawer of his desk and pulls out a checkbook, scribbling on it before tearing the check free and handing it to me. I glance down at the number written in his elegant script - twenty thousand dollars - and my breath catches in my throat.

“Consider this a repayment for your... investment in my son,” Elio says, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I believe this should be enough to cover your expenses, and I appreciate what you did.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, clutching the check tightly in my trembling hands. Relief washes over me, but it’s quickly replaced by a fierce sense of pride. I stood up to Elio Lombardi and won.

How many people can say that?

I take a step back, my heart pounding with the exhilaration of victory as I clutch the check in my hand. It’s time to leave, to escape from his captivating presence before it becomes too much… or before he decides to take it back.

“Wait,” Elio commands, his voice smooth and authoritative, stopping me in my tracks. His hand shoots out, grabbing my arm with a firm, yet gentle grip, reeling me back toward him. The touch sends an electric jolt through my body, making my skin tingle where our flesh meets. “If you’d been mine,” he murmurs, his piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, “I never would have been an idiot like my son and let you go, and for that little attitude of yours…I’d tan that butt until it was tender.”

His words hit me like a freight train, leaving me breathless and disoriented… and excited? “Excuse me?” I blurt out, trying to mask my confusion with indignation. My mind races, attempting to make sense of his statement while simultaneously struggling to maintain control over the fluttering in my chest.

No man has ever talked to me like that before…and even though his words are crude, they talk directly to the mound between my legs.

Elio and Owen couldn’t be more different.

Elio’s expression remains unreadable, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You’re a rare breed, Stella,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile. “Very few people stand up to me like you did today. And even fewer succeed in getting what they want.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” I ask, my voice wavering despite my best efforts. There’s something about this man - his charm, his magnetism - that makes it impossible for me to keep my guard up.

“Take it as you will,” he replies, finally releasing my arm. The warmth of his touch lingers on my skin, a ghostly reminder of the connection we’d shared - however briefly.

“Thank you for the check,” I say, stumbling over my words.

“You didn’t leave me much of a choice,” he says, handing me a sleek black business card. “Here. If you ever see Owen again, call me. No questions asked.”

“Alright,” I reply hesitantly, slipping the card into my pocket although I doubt I’ll ever see Owen again.

“Unfortunately, I have another meeting scheduled.” Elio checks his watch with a smooth flick of his wrist. “I trust you can find your way out?”

“Of course,” I nod, feeling the sharp sting of dismissal. It’s clear he wants me gone, and I suppose I should be grateful for the reprieve – and the check burning a hole in my purse. But something about leaving now feels oddly anticlimactic.

The cold metal of the doorknob sends a shiver down my spine as I exit Elio’s office, leaving behind the intensity of our encounter. My heels click against the polished marble floor, echoing through the otherwise silent hallway. I can’t help but feel the weight of Elio’s piercing gaze on my back, watching me go.

“Goodbye, Mr. Lombardi,” I had said, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to sound resolute.

“Goodbye, Stella,” he replied, his tone unreadable.

I’d said the same thing to Owen when I left the restaurant the night that we broke up, but with Elio…I can’t help but to feel like this won’t be the last time I see him.

Or maybe that’s just me hoping.