Daddy's Secret Sin

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Almost Caught

The close call came on a Thursday night.

Aria had been at Victor’s penthouse for nearly three hours. They had ordered food they barely touched, talked in low voices about nothing important, and then ended up in his bed again. He had taken her slowly this time — face to face, one of her legs hooked over his arm, his eyes never leaving hers as he moved inside her with deep, deliberate strokes. She had come twice before he finally let himself follow, burying his face in her neck as he spilled into her.

Afterward they lay tangled in the sheets, the city glittering beyond the glass. Victor’s fingers traced idle patterns on her bare hip. Aria’s head rested on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. For a few quiet minutes it almost felt safe.

Then the intercom on the wall buzzed.

Victor froze.

Aria lifted her head. “Expecting someone?”

“No.” His voice was already tight. He slipped out of bed, pulled on a pair of black sweatpants, and walked to the intercom panel near the bedroom door. When he pressed the button, the doorman’s voice came through clearly.

“Mr. Kane, your son is downstairs. He says it’s urgent.”

The air left Aria’s lungs.

Victor’s jaw flexed. He glanced back at her — naked in his bed, hair messy, lips still swollen from his mouth — and something dark and protective flashed in his eyes.

“Tell him I’m not available,” Victor said into the intercom.

There was a short pause. Then the doorman replied, “He’s insisting, sir. He’s already on his way up. He has the elevator code.”

Victor’s hand curled into a fist against the wall. “Understood.”

He ended the call and turned fully to Aria. “Bathroom. Now. Take your clothes.”

She was already moving. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she gathered her jeans, sweater, and underwear from the floor. Victor pulled a T-shirt over his head and ran a hand through his hair, trying to erase the evidence of what they had just done. The elevator chime echoed faintly from the private foyer.

Aria slipped into the large master bathroom and closed the door as quietly as she could. She dressed with shaking hands, then stood in the dark, listening.

The main door opened.

Ryan’s voice carried clearly. “Dad. We need to talk.”

“It’s late,” Victor answered, calm but cold. “This couldn’t wait until morning?”

“No. It couldn’t.” Footsteps moved deeper into the apartment. “You’ve been disappearing for days. You cancel every time I try to see you. You’re short with me on the phone. And every time I ask about Aria, you shut down.”

Aria pressed her back against the bathroom wall, barely breathing.

Victor’s reply was measured. “My personal life is not your business.”

“It is when it involves my ex-girlfriend.”

Silence stretched. Aria could hear her own pulse in her ears.

Ryan continued, voice tighter now. “I saw the way you looked at her that day in my apartment. And she’s been different ever since. Distant. Like she’s hiding something. I asked her to coffee and she could barely look me in the eye.”

“That has nothing to do with me.”

“Doesn’t it?” Ryan’s voice rose. “Because it feels like it does. You’ve been single for years. Suddenly you’re never available, and the one person who seems connected to both of us is acting like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t.”

Victor’s tone dropped into something dangerous. “Be very careful what you’re accusing me of.”

“I’m not accusing. I’m asking.” A pause. “Is there something going on between you and Aria?”

The question hung in the air like a blade.

Aria closed her eyes. Her entire body felt cold.

Victor’s answer came after a long moment, quiet and absolute.

“No.”

The single word was delivered with perfect control. No hesitation. No crack.

Ryan let out a short, frustrated breath. “Then why does it feel like you’re lying to me?”

“Because you’re looking for something that isn’t there,” Victor said. “You’re still hurting over the breakup. You’re projecting. Aria and I barely know each other. She came to collect her things. That is the extent of it.”

Another silence.

Finally Ryan spoke again, quieter. “I hope you’re telling the truth.”

“I am.”

Footsteps moved toward the door. The elevator was called. The private foyer doors opened and closed. Only when the soft chime of the descending elevator faded did Aria dare to breathe again.

The bathroom door opened a moment later. Victor stood there, face unreadable, but his eyes were storm-dark.

“He’s gone,” he said.

Aria stepped out on unsteady legs. “He almost—”

“I know.”

Victor crossed the space between them and pulled her against his chest. One hand cradled the back of her head. She could feel the tension still running through his body.

“He doesn’t know,” Victor murmured into her hair. “But he’s close. Closer than I like.”

Aria’s voice was small. “What do we do?”

Victor was quiet for a long time. When he finally answered, his arms tightened around her.

“We keep going. But we get more careful. No more last-minute nights. No more risks like tonight.” He pulled back just enough to look at her face. “And if it ever comes down to it, I will not let him destroy this. Or you.”

The possessive certainty in his voice both comforted and terrified her.

Aria rested her forehead against his collarbone. The scent of s*x still lingered faintly on his skin. Outside, the city continued as if nothing had almost collapsed.

Inside the penthouse, the secret had survived — but only barely.

And both of them knew the next time Ryan pushed, they might not be so lucky.

Some close calls were warnings.

This one felt like a countdown.