My Bestfriend’s Father

The Cold Treatment

Chapter 7

Aria

"So, your headache is completely gone?" Harper asked, stabbing a piece of steak with her fork.

She had been acting like a small devil all morning. I think I knew exactly why. I could be wrong though.

She definitely saw me leaving Damian’s room, and now she was trying to interrogate me without actually asking the real question.

"It disappeared," I said, smiling and looking down at the plate of mashed potatoes and steak in front of me. "I was close to eating my desired food."

Harper’s jaw tightened, but she forced a bright, fake smile. I bet she didn't know what I meant. "Funny. You must have rested really well since you didn't come shopping with Mom and me."

"Oh, I rested," I smirked, giving her a slow side-eye. Trust me, I know how to play this game. "But tell me, Harper. Why did you return to the house when you had already left with your mom?"

She dropped her fork. It clinked loudly against the porcelain plate. "I forgot my lip gloss."

"Right. Lip gloss." I took a slow bite of my food. She thinks she knows how to talk? Imagine the naive Harper trying to outplay me. "You came all the way back for lip gloss when you were already in the shopping district?"

"I like a specific brand, Aria," she snapped, her bubbly tone snapped for a second. "Is that a crime?"

"Not at all," I purred. "I just hope you found what you were looking for."

Later that agonizing afternoon, we were lounging at the private beach club. The sun was hot, but the tension between us was suffocating. Harper had changed her attitude completely. She was acting like absolutely nothing had happened earlier, which only made me think harder about why she entered her own father’s room dressed like a total sl*t. I bet in my life she wouldn't dare dress that way in front of her mom.

But her jabs at me were becoming sensitive, personal, and cruel. It was aura for aura, and I was entirely here for it.

"You know," Harper said smoothly, adjusting her sunglasses as she leaned back on her lounger, "Dad has been so stressed lately. I usually have to give him a massage before bed. He gets these terrible knots right at the base of his spine."

I kept my eyes closed behind my own shades. "That’s nice of you."

"He groans this specific way when I hit the right spot," she continued, her voice sounding light and casual, but the words were aimed. "And he sleeps completely naked. I always tell him to at least wear boxers, but he says the sheets feel better against his bare skin. We're just so close…I love my dad, and he tells me everything."

My blood boiled. Mentally, I was taking notes. She was doing this on purpose, dropping intimate details only a lover would know, pretending it was some sweet father-daughter bond, just to watch my reaction.

"I'm sure he appreciates his daughter looking out for him," I replied dryly.

"I just know him better than anyone," she smiled, taking a sip of her cocktail. "I know how he likes to be touched. Mom doesn't even know half the things he likes."

I realized right then that I couldn't just fight for Damian without handling Harper. I had to know what Harper's actual problem was. Was she just a daughter with severe boundary issues, or was there something sick and twisted going on that I didn't know yet?

A few minutes later, we walked to the end of the pool, standing waist-deep in the water, exchanging fake smiles and careful questions. This was not how my friendship with Harper used to be. We could literally light up the room but here we are, acting like zombies. I kind of don't blame her, right?

"Hello, Mommy," Harper chirped suddenly.

I turned. Victoria was marching toward the edge of the pool. She stopped, glaring down at me. She practically eyed me up and down like I was trash in her shoe. In her right hand, she was holding a pair of tiny, red lace panties. She held them out like they were some irritating, diseased thing.

At first, I thought she was just doing laundry and found something in the guest room, but then she shouted my name, with her face scrunched in a deep frown.

"Aria, this must be yours." She didn't even allow me to process the statement before slamming me with a direct accusation. "I know this is yours. What are your panties doing in my husband’s bathroom?"

I frowned, totally confused. Yes, I wore red lace this morning. Yes, I went to Damian's room to tempt him. But I didn't go near his bathroom. I got angry. I wanted to give her a dose of her own medicine because it was too much for her to handle, and I certainly wasn't that careless.

Before I could snap back and tell her exactly what was on my mind that might probably make her chase me out of her house, Harper laughed loudly.

"Mom, relax," Harper said, splashing the water playfully. "Those are mine. I had forgotten them there earlier when I was looking for some aspirin in Dad's cabinet.”

I slowly turned my head. My eyes widened in pure, unadulterated surprise. I looked from Harper to Victoria, my brain doing flips.

"You are not going to ask her what her panties are doing in there?" I blurted out. I didn't even know the words were coming out of my mouth until they were said.

Victoria dimmed her face, narrowing her eyes into dangerous slits. "What are you suggesting, Aria?"

"I'm just asking a logical question," I countered. "If you found them in your husband's bathroom..."

"Are you suggesting that my own daughter is sleeping with her own father?" Victoria scoffed loudly, throwing a vicious jab straight at me. "Aria, we are responsible in this family. We don't even dress like whores."

I didn't care about the insult. She could call me a w***e all day. What was ringing in my head was her exact question. ‘A father sleeping with his own daughter.’ Is it even possible?

Victoria threw the red lace panties at a nearby chair and walked off. Harper just smiled at me. It wasn't a friendly smile. This spiked my curiosity beyond limits. I couldn't wait to find out what was actually going on. I had to find out what's going on before it drives me crazy.