My Dark Desire: Chapter 8

Motherfucker.

The billionaire asshole was out to get me.

He’d actually taken time off his schedule to parade my busted-ass shoe all over Maryland like it was a deer’s head.

Men in power were such sadists. He simply couldn’t let it go.

Fear nipped its way up my spine. Goosebumps replaced the bleach tingles on my arms.

The center of Zachary Sun’s attention was a very bad place to be. He had the means to destroy anyone with a simple phone call.

What was I thinking, slipping into his residence to retrieve the pendant?

Silence blanketed the kitchen.

Without a doubt, Vera, Reggie, and Tabby knew the shoe belonged to me. Not a single day passed without them teasing me for my attire.

They couldn’t understand why I didn’t let the price of my clothes determine my value as a person.

A briny drop of sweat trekked down my forehead to my eye.

Breathe.

Just breathe, Farrow.

But I couldn’t.

My chest caved. I smothered my mouth with a palm, hoping it stifled the sound of my breaths.

Another second of silence, and they’d hear me. Surely.

For once, Reggie’s shrill voice saved me. “Oh, that’s awkward. I believe this one’s mine, actually.”

“No, no. I think it’s mine.” Tabby elbowed her out of the way. “I always bring a flat pair when I go to parties. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m quite the dancer⁠—”

“But don’t you remember, Tabby…” Reggie clamped a hand on Tabby’s shoulder, probably digging her acrylics into the bone. Her tone carried an eerie threat. “…that I borrowed those… shoes from you that night because mine got lost when I saved an injured bunny in Mr. Sun’s garden?”

I dug my teeth into my inner cheek, wrangling back a frantic laugh. As low as I’d gotten, I hoped I never became this pathetic.

This Cinderella bull crap was right up their alley.

I bet if Zach had come in with a used menstrual cup, asking if it belonged to one of them, they’d give him a demonstration to prove they were the rightful owners.

Vera put an end to the debate before Reggie made a valley out of Tabby’s shoulder. “It’s Tabitha’s shoe.”

Tabby was the costliest of her two daughters, so I supposed Vera wanted her off her hands sooner rather than later.

She nodded, reassuring herself she’d made the right decision. “Definitely hers.”

More silence.

Unfortunately for my so-called family members, Zach Sun was too smart to buy into their bullshit.

Good news for him.

Devastating news for me.

His fingers tightened around the shoe. “Do you have any other daughters, Mrs. Ballantine?”

My shoulders tensed.

“What? No. These two are more than enough. They keep me busy. Trust me.” Her hands curled into fists. “Ha. Ha.”

More silence.

Zach didn’t feel the need to fill the void with meaningless words. It was probably the only good thing about him.

Finally, he set the knockoff Vans down on the island. “Are you certain, Mrs. Ballantine?”

“Well, I would know if I had an extra daughter tucked away in the house, would I not?”

Oh, the irony.

Reggie and Tabby began to squirm. I could tell, even from this angle.

Tabby cleared her throat.

Tabitha Ballantine, don’t you dare choose this moment to be honest for the first time in your life.

“Lovely.” Zach’s chair scraped across the floor as he stood. “In that case, both the Ballantine sisters should accompany me to the police station. In fact, the D.A. happens to be a good friend of mine. We’ll go straight to his house. I’ve been meaning to check out his new renovations, anyway.”

Vera stood taller, finally dropping the sweet aunt charade. “W-what are you talking about?”

She couldn’t even land a direct-to-streaming role with that acting.

I often wondered what my father saw in her. Part of me kind of knew the answer. He wanted someone—anyone—to be his.

He’d grown up an orphan in Scotland. Moved here with no ties. No friends. Nothing.

And Vera? She had the entire package. Sisters, aunts, and a daughter with another on the way.

Too bad that, in gaining one family, he’d betrayed another.

Me.

Zach plucked the shoe off the counter, dangling it from his index finger. “I’m talking about the fact that whomever this shoe belongs to tried to steal my pendant the night of the soirée. Since it came from your household when I bought it, I am going to go out on a limb here and guess that someone got too attached and thought they could get away with stealing it back. Well, theft is illegal in all fifty states. Your daughters should be taught a lesson.”

“Oh, this is all a misunderstanding. They don’t want that useless piece of cra—” Vera stopped herself at the very last second, drawing in a deep breath and replacing it with a superficial giggle. “I can assure you that the girls could not care one bit about the pendant, Mr. Sun.”

“And still, this shoe proves to me that one of them did,” Zachary insisted, milking the truth out of her without her even realizing it.

“It’s probably Farrow’s,” Tabby rushed out.

And I’d thought Vera would be the one to rat me out.

My cheeks flamed. Freaking Tabby.

Zach lowered the shoe. “Farrow?”

“Our stepsister.” Tabby’s cheeks flushed, no doubt excitement at the sudden opportunity to please Zach. “She dresses like a homeless person and our dad—her biological dad—used to own the pendant. She kept it in her room before we sold it. She always gets into trouble.”

Up until now, I might’ve saved Tabitha if we were ever in a Mufasa-and-Scar situation. I made a mental note not to.

The woman was as likeable as a deadly virus.

“So, there is a third sister.” Zach sounded like he was trying to fleece nuclear codes from a toddler.

“Sh-she’s not really a sister.” Reggie fussed with the collar of her Oxford dress. “Though I wouldn’t say no to sharing her metabolism…”

“My stepdaughter is estranged from us.” Vera tried to sound dignified. “I’ve tried my best with her, I have, but⁠—

”

Zach cut her off. “Where is Farrow?”

“Somewhere in the house.” Tabby’s shoulders sagged, now that she was no longer at risk of jailtime. She gestured to the rags on the tiles. “She needs to finish cleaning up here.”

The sting of her words pinched my cheeks. Heat exploded from my sternum, buzzing up and down my entire body.

My lousy excuse for a family had no idea how they sounded.

Or maybe they did, and this was their goal all along.

Working as a cleaner didn’t embarrass me. I prided myself in my stellar service.

But being paraded as the lowly maid of my own family? I found myself surprisingly embarrassed. Surprising because I didn’t usually give half a crap what people thought about me.

But somehow, I did when it came to Zachary Sun.

Once upon a time, and for three hours only, I’d managed to capture his attention. Something no other woman had ever done.

Yes, I liked the idea that he thought of me as mysterious and alluring.

Not as someone who scrubbed her step-monsters’ toilets.

“Find her for me.” He snapped his fingers once as if he were delivering a decree to his devoted subjects. I could practically hear the prick sitting back like the brusque king that he was. “Or you’ll find yourself in one hell of a lawsuit.”

The commotion that followed made my head spin.

Vera pointed to her daughters. “Reggie, you look upstairs. Tabby, do the pool house and the basement. She can’t be far. Her car’s parked out front. I’ll check here.”

A flurry of feet charged in several directions.

The door to the backyard whined open. The lighting fixtures rattled with the heavy footsteps above. Cabinet doors creaked open in rapid succession.

Zach yawned, possibly… amused by my life circumstances. “She wouldn’t hide in a cabinet.”

Vera swung another open. “Why not?”

“Because she is not a complete idiot.”

“Trust me, she is⁠—”

“I don’t.”

“W-what?”

“I don’t trust you. Keep looking.” He checked his wristwatch. “I want her head on a platter, and I want it before my six o’clock appointment across town.”

I saw the words for what they were.

A declaration of war.

If he thought I’d sit down and take it, he had another thing coming.

Just because I accepted abuse at home to ensure the protection of my assets didn’t give him free reign to make me his new favorite game.

Before Dad passed, I’d spent my entire life giving my step-monsters hell.

To the point where Vera had all but begged for me to move to Seoul, Reggie handed me brochures of every reputable plastic surgeon, and Tabby marked a map with all the foodie hotspots. (I didn’t even know she could read a map.)

I know how to fight, Zachary Sun.

Gloves off. No mercy. Until I draw blood.

“I wouldn’t put anything past her.” Venom seeped through Vera’s tone. “I’ve tried with her, Mr. Sun. I really have. But Farrow is beyond repair. It’s those genes her mother gave her, I think. She’s…”

She exhaled but didn’t finish the sentence.

“She’s what?”

“So unladylike.”

“Expand.”

“Unruly, feisty, mannerless. A tomboy.” The word burst past her bared teeth. Vera slammed a cabinet shut, pausing to shake her head. “She got into so much trouble growing up. Can you believe they kicked her out of private school at sixteen? She gave away the morning-after pill to students who needed them. For free.”

And I’d do it all over again.

Fuck the patriarchy.

While we’re at it—screw Vera, too.

“Did she ever finish high school?”

At this point, did it matter?

Ironically, the closest I’ve ever come to using my GED is via the research skills required to break into your home.

“Barely.” She tossed her hands in the air. “Her father had the mind to ship her off to a fencing academy in Seoul. It’s what she wanted all along, anyway. She always looked down at me and my poor daughters. Wouldn’t let me choose her clothes, get her nails done, or cut that god-awful hair.”

“College?”

Vera snickered, waving a hand. “Not even community college.

Tabitha, however, has a B.A. from Columbia and my sweet Reggie went to the prestigious⁠—”

“No need to finish the sentence. I assure you, no part of me cares.”

Even if every part of him cared, Tabby did not, indeed, have a degree from that Columbia.

But Columbia College of Maryland didn’t exactly have the same ring to it.

Vera opened the fridge. What did she think? That I’d stuffed myself between her gallon of probiotic yogurt and double-XL pickled onion jar?

Somebody call Sherlock and tell him he might be out of a job.

Mr. Sun was obviously not as thoroughly appalled as Vera wanted him to be because she proceeded to the fake-crying portion of the program, except she couldn’t quite siphon out a tear, so her nose just scrunched up and down.

Vera swiped her cheek. Dry as a Chilean desert.

“She fought me over that pendant. Gave me hell. But we needed the money. Her late father worked on very slim margins, and my girls need to be provided for until the insurance money kicks in.” She spoke as if Reggie and Tabby were children, not capable women in their mid-twenties. “I am beyond embarrassed at Farrow’s behavior.”

I was embarrassed, too.

To be affiliated with this hot mess.

Thankfully, not through DNA.

Zach cut through her moaning. “Mrs. Ballantine?”

“Yes?”

“Try the pantry and put us both out of the misery that is this conversation.”

“Oh. Right. Good idea.”

Her footsteps neared.

My elbows dug deep into my hips. The spatula almost fell from my clammy grip. Tiny hairs leapt up from the nape of my neck.

I rocked back on my heels and drew in a breath, preparing myself for the worst.

Vera’s fingers stretched out.

I chanced one final glance at Zach through the slats and regretted it. He wore a ghost of a smile, his back against the island, one ankle crossed over the other.

With eerie precision, his eyes found mine through the shuttered door.

I jerked back, slamming my head into a can.

He’d figured it out.

He knew.

The bastard knew.