Obsessed With My Father’s Boss

Attempt Number One Failed

Rhea’s POV

I breathed in sharply, then turned the doorknob again. Locked.

I had been locked in.

I quickly reached for the chair close by and sat down, trying to think. My phone — I had given it to Lyra. Of course, I had.

“Damn it.” I grabbed my purse and flung it across the room.

Then the lights went out.

My throat went dry instantly. I pressed my back against the chair and squeezed my eyes shut, lips moving around the mantra my therapist had taught me, the one I learned after my father’s girlfriend locked me in the basement for an entire afternoon. Breathe in. Breathe out. You are safe. You are not there.

But it wasn’t working. Anxiety had its hands around my chest and it was squeezing.

Just when I thought my legs would give out, the door opened.

And there he was.

I didn’t think, I just moved, sprang to my feet, and rushed straight into him, tears already burning my eyes. Mr. Rowan’s arms came around me without hesitation, strong and steady, and he let me cry it all out. When the sobs slowed, he held my shoulders gently and wiped my face with his towel, his eyes softer than I had ever seen them.

“Shh.. you’ll be fine.” He said it quietly, like he meant it.

Then he dried the last of my tears, tucked his towel away, and held out his hand.

“Let’s go get married.”

A grin spread across my face before I could stop it. I mean, who wouldn’t, with those eyes looking at you like that?

I held his hand all the way to the hall. My father met me at the entrance, and I held his arm as we walked toward where Rowan now stood waiting. I could hear cheers rippling through the crowd and feel a few glares burning into my back, but I didn’t care. Fake wedding or not, I was still getting married, and I was going to enjoy every second of it.

My dad handed me over. Vows were exchanged, documents signed, and then all I could hear chanting through the air was, kiss, kiss, kiss.

My cheeks went red. I swallowed hard, still convinced it wasn’t actually going to happen, still running through all the reasons why.

Warm lips pressed against mine.

Everything froze. Something inside me melted clean through, slow and certain, like ice giving way under sunlight. And before I knew it, it was over and cheers followed.

I walked down from the altar a little unsteady and joined the party.

I had barely reached for a drink when a hand took it clean off the table before I could. I turned.

Rowan’s stepmother. Smug smile, wine glass raised, eyes on me like she had already won something.

“I hope you enjoyed your little time in the dressing room.” She took a slow sip.

I knew it was her. I had known from the moment the lights went out.

I wanted to grab that wine and pour it straight down her throat. I wanted to shove her into the wall behind her. I wanted to do a lot of things.

Instead, I smiled. Stepped closer. Watched the smugness on her face flicker just slightly as I leaned in.

“That’s a cheap little trick,” I said softly. “I suggest you try harder.”

I gave her a small shove as I passed.

When I glanced back, she was on the floor, wine soaking through her dress, mouth open. I smiled to myself and kept walking.

Karma. Touché.

The party went on. Rowan was always somewhere else, always on a call, always just out of reach. I would catch a glimpse of him across the room, jaw tight, phone pressed to his ear, that permanent frown in place, and then he would be gone again. I didn’t know why I kept looking.

Just as the evening was winding down, Rowan’s Noona made her way toward me, her warm hand finding mine.

“My grandson isn’t easy,” she said, patting my hand gently. “But bear with him. He is a good man, I can tell you that for certain.”

I smiled, a small ache settling in my chest because she meant every word and felt so bad that everything was all a lie.

“I know, Noona. I’ll take care of him.”

Her eyes went soft and glassy. “Come, I have something for you.” She tugged my hand and led me forward, a small group trailing behind us until we reached the parking lot.

I was still trying to figure out what she could possibly have, when she dropped a key into my palm and told me to press it.

I pressed it.

A white Range Rover, unmistakably last year’s model, beeped to life.

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. I just pulled her into a hug, tears sliding down my face.

“Thank you,” I managed. “Thank you so much.”

“Anything for you, my dear daughter.” She held me like she meant that too.

When we finally pulled apart, I made a beeline for the car, Lyra running behind me shrieking. We spent a good while just standing there gushing over it, the interior, the smell, the seats, all of it. It was easily worth hundreds of millions.

I was back to Noona within minutes, still thanking her, when Rowan appeared at the edge of the group. He hadn’t been with us in the parking lot. I had noticed, though I hadn’t meant to.

“Noona,” he said, that small almost-smile on his face, “you seem to be sharing gifts. Where is mine?”

Noona laughed, that mischievous little laugh of hers, and reached into her purse. Every neck in the group stretched forward.

She pulled out a key. Set it in Rowan’s palm.

We all waited.

“A one-day suite,” she announced cheerfully. “For your honeymoon.”

The word landed like a stone dropped into still water.

Honeymoon.

I repeated it in my head, very quietly, as if saying it too loudly would make something happen.

Noona squeezed my hand. “You know how busy this one is with work,” she said, nodding toward Rowan. “So I just had to do something small. He still owes you a proper one.” She smiled at me like we were sharing a secret.

I smiled back, awkward and stiff. Rowan and I caught each other’s eyes for exactly one second before both looking away.

We were ushered back to the hall, then into a car. Rowan got in without a word, no hesitation, completely unbothered. I stood at the door for a moment, still processing, when Lyra appeared out of nowhere and pressed a fancy bag into my hands.

Before I could ask, she leaned in close.

“Good luck,” she whispered. “You will need it.”

Then she was gone, waving with the rest of them as the car pulled away.

Now it was just me, Rowan, and the driver. My insides started doing something I couldn’t name, not quite nerves, not quite excitement, somewhere in between.

He wasn’t looking at me. But I could feel his eyes anyway. Weird, I know.

The car stopped. My door opened, Rowan standing there, hand extended.

I looked at his hand. Then at him. Then I took it.

He spoke to the receptionist while I stood beside him, quiet. Then the elevator, though we weren’t alone, which helped. The tension stayed manageable.

Then the hallway. Then the door.

He opened it.

Red flower petals across the floor. More on the bed. Wine on the table, candles, the whole thing.

We both stood at the entrance and stared.

“Erh..” Rowan cleared his throat. “Don’t mind Noona. She can be very dramatic.”

I swallowed. Flashed him a quick smile. Then I grabbed the fancy bag from Lyra and made a straight line for the bathroom.

I shut the door behind me and looked in the mirror.

My face was flushed. I patted my cheeks, took a breath, then reached into the bag.

Lingerie. Very sexy lingerie.

This girl was going to kill me. And I loved her for it.

It’s finally going to happen. There was no way Rowan would be able to keep it together after seeing me in this. I smiled at myself in the mirror, slow and satisfied.

I undressed, showered quickly, and put it on.

Okay. Damn.

I looked good. My breasts were on full display, just the n*****s covered, my figure doing exactly what it was supposed to do in something like this.

I bit my lip. Smoothed my hands over my hips. I hesitated at the door for exactly three seconds, then opened it slowly, stepping out like I owned the room.

The room was empty.

I stood there. Blinked. Looked around. Walked further in, thinking maybe.

My phone binged.

I picked up my phone.

Rowan: Stay safe, and have a good night’s rest. Food is on the table. Then a smiley face.

I read it once. Twice. Three times.

Food. On the table. With a smiley face.

I was standing here in the most dangerous lingerie known to mankind, everything on display, heart pounding, and this man sent me a smiley face about food.

I didn’t want food on the table. I wanted to be the food and have him eat me.

I stared at the ceiling, jaw tight, then back at the message, then at the empty room around me, the flower petals on the floor mocking me, the candles still burning like they had no idea the night was already dead.

“Damn it!”

I flung my pillow across the room. Then grabbed the second one and threw that too.

Attempt number two was going to be so much worse for him.