Sexting My Ex’s Dad (Forbidden Silver Foxes)

19. Stella

19

STELLA

T he music pulses through the Regency Club as I weave my way through the crowd, carrying a tray filled with colorful cocktails. The energy in the room is electric, the air thick with laughter and the scent of cologne. It’s a Friday night, and everyone seems eager to leave their workweek behind. Fridays and Saturdays are the best nights when it comes to tips, so I typically find myself working a little bit harder…and my pocket thanks me later.

“Hey Stella!” one of the regulars calls out as he catches sight of me. “Looking gorgeous as always!”

“Thanks, master,” I reply with a smile, feeling the familiar warmth color my cheeks. As much as the compliments are flattering, they’re not the reason I’m here. I need this job, and every dollar counts which means I do anything I can to get higher tips.

“Two margaritas and a whiskey sour coming right up, boys!” I announce, setting down the drinks in front of a group of well-dressed men. They toast to the weekend before diving back into their conversation, barely sparing me another glance. They’re my favorite type of customers, who like to look a little but not touch. I’m pretty sure all of them are married. Not that being married stops a man from coming in here.

I check the board on the way back to the bar. I haven’t signed up for any private rooms since I’ve started working although I’ve had a few men ask for me specifically and have had to do some pole dancing which hasn’t been nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Tonight, thankfully, I have no requests.

No sign of Elio either. Strange. This would be the first day in like two weeks that he hasn’t shown his face.

I know I shouldn’t care, but I’ve gotten used to him just being there. Maybe, he finally got the hint that I wasn’t going to change my mind about being his mistress and was finally leaving me alone. If that’s what I wanted so bad then why is never seeing Elio again such a sad thought?

My phone vibrates in my pocket. Glancing at the screen, I notice it’s a call from the care facility where Leo is staying. My heart skips a beat–they never call unless there’s an issue. Excusing myself, I slip out the back door and into the cool night air, the noise of the club fading behind me.

“Hello?” I answer, trying to keep the worry from my voice.

“Ms. March, this is Marsha Grant from the financial department at Brookhaven Care Facility,” the voice on the other end of the line says. The knot in my stomach tightens. It’s the same woman I spoke to before when I’d been there in person.

“Mr. Grant, what’s going on? Is Leo okay?” I ask anxiously, gripping the phone tighter.

“Leo is fine, but we have a matter that needs your immediate attention,” she replies, her tone formal and cold. “We, still, aren’t current on Leo’s payments.”

My heart pounds in my chest as confusion clouds my mind. “That can’t be right,” I protest, my voice wavering. “I just made a payment. I have the receipt.” And I saw the eight thousand dollar charge every time I looked in my bank account.

“Ms. March, I understand your concern, but our records show that there are still two months of outstanding payments,” Ms. Grant insists, unmoved. “If we don’t receive the funds within ten days, we’ll have no choice but to move Leo to another facility. I hate to do that, but my hands are tied.”

“Ten days?” I choke out, feeling an icy panic grip my chest. “But I’ve paid! There must be some mistake.”

“Unfortunately, there is no mistake. Our records are quite clear, and I assure you, we’ve tried every avenue to resolve this issue before contacting you,” she says with finality.

Two months…? That’s the exact time that… A knot forms in my stomach, tightening as the realization dawns on me. Owen. He was supposed to be responsible for those payments during the last few months we were together. I clench my fists. Turns out, he hadn’t been paying them. And to think I trusted him!

“Mr. Grant, did you say you tried contacting Owen Lombardi about the missing payments?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“Yes, Ms. March. We made several attempts to reach Mr. Lombardi, but he never responded to our calls or emails,” he replies, confirming my suspicions. “Unfortunately, regardless of what the two of you may have worked out, we do require the sixteen thousand dollars in full.”

“Ten days,” I whisper, my mind racing with thoughts of how I can come up with the money in such a short timeframe. Of course, I made exceptional money at my job, but it isn’t like Leo’s care is cheap, or anything close to it. I couldn’t afford to make it more than once a month. That sixteen thousand dollars was close to my full monthly income.

But I’d have to figure something out. I always did.

“Thank you,” I manage to choke out before ending the call, unable to stay on the phone any longer in case I end up breaking down in tears. My phone slips from my fingers, clattering onto the pavement as I press my hands against the brick wall behind me, trying to steady myself.

Angry hot tears blur my vision. I wish that I would have done more than just throwing water in Owen’s face when I had the chance. Anastasia was right. He was a fat nosed jerk. He could do whatever he wanted to me, but to my brother at risk…? I’d make him pay.

I slide down the brick wall, my legs giving out beneath me. My chest heaves with deep, shuddering breaths, each one feeling like sandpaper grating against my insides.

“Damn you, Owen,” I whisper through gritted teeth, anger and betrayal simmering beneath the surface of my despair. I’ve always known him to be selfish, but this? To leave my brother without care while he gallivants off to “find himself” is a new low even for him.

I wipe the tears from my cheeks, knowing that drowning in self-pity won’t solve anything.

My mind races back to the months leading up to Owen’s departure, the way he’d seemed distant and preoccupied, always on the verge of saying something important but never quite finding the words. It’s clear now that he’d been planning his escape for a while, leaving me to pick up the pieces of our shattered lives without a second thought.

“Such an ass,” I mutter under my breath, my hands clenching into fists. If only I’d seen the signs sooner, maybe I could have done something to prevent this disaster.

None of that matters now.

“Stella,” a deep, soothing voice says from behind me. I feel strong arms wrap around me, pulling me close. Before I can even think about resisting, I’m enveloped in warmth and comfort, my head resting against a broad chest.

It’s Elio, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I nuzzle into him and cry harder. He holds me tighter in his strong arms. For a moment, I allow myself to forget everything – the financial crisis looming over Leo’s care, Owen’s betrayal, the relentless pressure of keeping it all together.

I take a shuddering breath, my thoughts racing as I try to make sense of what’s happening. Why is he here? And why does it feel so right to seek solace in his embrace?

Despite knowing I shouldn’t, I cry into his shoulder, letting him be my comfort.