One Night Stand With My Father-In-Law

CHAPTER 5.

CHAPTER 5.

Taylor's POV.

I felt a tight knot forming in the pit of my stomach as my eyes drifted outside the car window, while the vehicle sped away from the Martinez mansion. The air felt heavy and suffocating, making it difficult to take a deep breath. Thoughts of the President consumed my mind, swirling relentlessly.

Stepping out of the restroom, I couldn't help but silently pray that everything would unfold smoothly, determined not to let my nerves get the best of me.

I still couldn't wrap my head around it. The man I was about to marry was the son of the very person who had occupied my fantasies—the same man to whom I had willingly given up my virginity ten years ago, only to flee. And now, he had managed to draw me back into his arms so effortlessly. Was it fate?

"Fate?" I rolled my eyes in disgust at such a notion. It couldn't possibly be fate. Should I run away once more? But the risks were too high. My mother would stop at nothing to find me, especially now that the marriage was halfway done. Mason was also infatuated with me, and my mother would extract every word from my mouth. If she ever discovered the truth, she would undoubtedly use it against the President. Only I knew that side of her—the one who would do anything to gain power or become the benefactor behind the ruling party…

Marrying Mason was her best chance at reaching good pals with the presidency, and if our secret got out...

I bowed my head, avoiding the view of the countless cars passing by. A faint frown creased my brows, and I let out a long, heavy sigh, as if the weight of the world rested on my shoulders. Well, in a way, it did.

"I can't marry Mason," I whispered to myself. "I need to escape. But where to?" I slowly raised my eyes to meet my mother's gaze. Her face was adorned with a wide, beaming grin. It was me who was getting married, yet she seemed to be the most excited one.

Leaning in eagerly, practically on the edge of her seat, she exclaimed, "My little Tay Tay is getting married!" Her smile stretched wide, as if she genuinely cared.

I couldn't help but scoff in response.

"Tomorrow, Mason is coming over so you both can go pick out the wedding gown, while the First Lady and I find a venue," she informed me, her voice bubbling with happiness.

"Tomorrow?" My eyebrows shot up in astonishment.

"What's the rush?"

"Well, the rush might be due to menopause," she blurted out, her words hitting me like a tidal wave. It struck a nerve within me, but she quickly let out a nervous giggle, attempting to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation.

I avoided making eye contact with her, looking away to prevent further embarrassment. I had more pressing matters to think about. The thought of picking up my wedding gown tomorrow seemed absurd. With this level of chaos, I should be getting married over the weekend.

I bit my lip, feeling the sting of pain as a temporary distraction from my nerves. But then, I attempted to rub my hands together, and a piece of paper slipped from my grasp, landing on the car's floor mat. Both my mother and I fixated our eyes on it. I almost wondered what it was before swiftly picking it up and crumpling it into my palms.

"Whatever!" She rolled her eyes with a sigh, clearly unimpressed. I could tell she was surprised by my sudden action.

"Hey! Please stop at the next stop," I instructed the driver, who nodded in agreement. My mother shot me a surprised look. "Where the hell are you going?"

"I want to stop at my old workplace," I replied, and her face contorted into a deep frown. "Your firm? Taylor, you need to let go of that life. You left it two years ago, and now you're back to become a part of the Martinez family. There's no place for you in that wretched place... Go back to the White House!"

I gulped at the mention of the White House, but the abrupt screech of brakes interrupted my thoughts as my mother angrily exclaimed, "What the hell was that?”

I quickly excused myself, eager to escape her continued hollering. I was certain the driver would face repercussions once he parked the car at her house.

Crossing over to the other side of the road, I retrieved my black sunglasses from my bag. I needed to be as discreet as possible. A wave of excitement and happiness washed over me, but guilt gnawed at another part of my being with each step I took towards hailing a cab.

After a few minutes, the cab came to a stop, and I swiftly handed the driver a few dollar bills as I watched him speed away into the night. Adjusting my dress, I glanced at my watch. It read 8:14 PM, and a smug smirk curled up on my lips. I wasn't late yet...

Excitement surged through my veins like a bolt of lightning, electrifying every fiber of my being. Tension coiled in every muscle as I couldn't help but chew on my fingers, feeling the uneven edges against my teeth. The streets illuminated as the lights flickered on, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin.

I found myself on Bisque Hotels streets, but why had they turned off their lights only to suddenly switch them on to startle me? My eyes darted around, and I shrugged my shoulders, clutching my bag tightly. Not a single person was in sight in an area that was usually bustling with activity.

As I walked through the gates of the compound, a commanding masculine voice froze me in my tracks. "Miss Taylor, please follow me," he pointed in the right direction. My eyes slowly scanned him, dressed in an all-black outfit with shaded glasses. I was certain he belonged to the CIA, but not just any CIA—this was the President's private CIA. They must have been responsible for the deserted streets and empty hotels, all for the sake of the President.

Without hesitation, I pushed open the door, and there he stood, exuding an alluring height. A rush of happiness and excitement flooded my entire being, causing a warm blush to spread across my cheeks as our eyes locked. I quickly averted my gaze, pretending to close the door.

"You finally came," he said, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

I gulped, attempting to regain control over myself. This man held a power over me, and his voice opened the floodgates to a realm of illicit thoughts. But I managed to maintain an unwavering gaze as I replied, "I'm here to tell you that this can't happen. It's a fallacy, Mr. President."

In an instant, his eyes turned cold, and his expression grew grim.

"Tay," the deep huskiness of his voice had me weak in the knees.

"It can't happen," I mustered, but as he pulled closer, our fingers brushed against each other, sending shivers down my spine. I gulped, swallowing my own words.

"I can't be with you, Mr. President. I'll soon be your daughter-in-law..." I trailed off, but his touch against my cheek made me stop. It felt like a gentle caress, leaving a lingering warmth on my skin. I couldn't help but listen attentively to what he had to say.

"We just need to make it work, Tay."

"There's no 'we'!" I shouted, my voice a mix of longing and disappointment at how he had such a hold on my emotions.

"You're mine and mine alone. You can't marry Mason," he declared coldly, walking away from me. I felt my legs almost give way beneath me. What was he trying to do?