SEDUCING MY BESTFRIEND'S DADDY

Chapter 15

The air in the back of the Cadillac Escalade was thick enough to choke on. Alejandro sat in the middle row, his cane held between his knees like a weapon, his gaze fixed out the window at the blurred lights of the Chicago skyline. In the seat behind him, Noah and Emily were huddled together, their hushed laughter and whispered comments acting as a slow-acting poison in Alejandro’s veins.

Noah had insisted on "Obsidian," an exclusive, subterranean club in the Meatpacking District known for its lack of light and its abundance of secrets. Alejandro had tried to forbid the outing, citing the late hour and the "unsavory" crowd, but Sofia had pouted, and Emily had simply looked at him with that terrifying, emerald challenge in her eyes. So, he had done the only thing a man in his position could do: he had put on his suit, grabbed his cane, and stepped into the role of the unwanted chaperone.

As they pulled up to the curb, the bass from the club vibrated through the pavement, a rhythmic thud that mimicked the pulse in Alejandro’s temple.

"Stay close," Alejandro commanded as they stepped out into the humid city air. He grabbed Emily’s arm—ostensibly to guide her through the crowd—but his grip was desperate, his thumb pressing into her skin in a way that screamed of a claim he couldn't voice.

"Don't worry, Uncle," Noah chuckled, sliding a casual arm around Emily’s waist, effectively sandwiching her between the two Vargas men. "I’ll make sure she’s well taken care of."

The interior of Obsidian was a labyrinth of black velvet, flickering neon, and the heavy scent of expensive vodka and sweat. Sofia immediately dragged Noah toward the dance floor, leaving Alejandro and Emily at a corner booth guarded by a shadow-shrouded bouncer.

The table was small. Too small. Alejandro sat heavily, his leg brushing against Emily’s under the table. He didn't pull away this time. Instead, he leaned into the contact, his eyes tracking the way the strobe lights played over the sequins of her dress.

"You should be at the apartment," Alejandro rasped, his voice barely audible over the thundering music. "You are playing a dangerous game, Emily. Noah doesn't know what you are. He doesn't know that you belong to—"

"To who, Alejandro?" Emily interrupted, leaning in so close her lips brushed the shell of his ear. "To a man who hides me in the dark? To a man who calls me a mistake in the hallway and then watches me through a window like a starving ghost?"

Alejandro’s hand found her thigh beneath the table, his fingers digging into the fabric of her dress. "I am trying to save you from myself. Can't you see that?"

"I don't want to be saved," she breathed.

Before he could respond, Noah returned, breathless and grinning, holding two shots of amber liquid. "Enough brooding, Uncle! Em, come dance. They’re playing that new house track you liked."

Emily didn't look at Alejandro as she stood up. She let Noah lead her into the throngs of dancing bodies, leaving Alejandro alone in the booth.

From his vantage point, Alejandro watched them. The strobe light turned the dance floor into a series of jagged, disconnected images: Noah’s hands on Emily’s hips. Emily throwing her head back in a laugh that looked like a scream in the silence of his mind. Noah leaning down to whisper something into her neck—the same spot Alejandro had marked at the lake house.

The rage that erupted in Alejandro wasn't corporate or controlled. It was a blind, white-hot jealousy that obliterated twenty years of discipline. He stood up, his cane striking the floor with a sound that seemed to cut through the bass.

He didn't navigate the crowd; he parted it. He reached the center of the floor just as Noah pulled Emily closer for a slow, grinding beat. Alejandro didn't say a word. He stepped between them, his hand clamping onto Noah’s shoulder with enough force to make the younger man flinch.

"That's enough," Alejandro hissed, his eyes dark with a violence Noah had never seen.

"Whoa, Uncle, we’re just having fun—"

"The car is waiting," Alejandro interrupted, his voice dropping to a register that signaled a total loss of patience. "Sofia! We are leaving. Now."

The ride back was different. Noah, sensing the lethal tension radiating from his uncle, stayed silent. Sofia fell asleep against the window. But in the middle row, in the dark, Alejandro reached out and took Emily’s hand. He didn't hold it gently. He crushed her fingers in his, a silent, painful reminder of who she truly answered to.

When they arrived back at the estate, Alejandro didn't wait for the others. He pulled Emily toward the back entrance, his stride long and uneven. He didn't stop until they were in the mudroom, the door swinging shut behind them with a heavy thud.

He pinned her against the lockers, his body a wall of heat and fury. "You will never do that again," he growled, his face inches from hers. "You will never let him touch you. You will never look at another man like that as long as you are under this roof."

"Or what?" Emily challenged, her heart racing against her ribs. "You'll send me away? You already tried that."

Alejandro didn't answer with words. He grabbed the hem of her dress, his hands shaking with a mixture of rage and need. "I will show you exactly who you belong to, Emily. And God help me, I don't care if the whole world hears."

In the cramped, dark room, surrounded by the scent of raincoats and old boots, Alejandro claimed her with a desperation that bordered on madness. It was no longer a seduction; it was a reclamation. Every touch was an assertion of ownership, every m*an a confession of his defeat. He was no longer the Director. He was just a man, broken by a girl, trying to find his way back to the only fire that made him feel alive.