Page 12 of Shadowed Obsession

How’s it going?

I’m surviving. How about you?

Scar

That’s too bad. I’m thriving over here.

I’ve never been jealous of a man before and won’t start now. Lol

Scar

Ooh. She bites in the daytime. I can’t say I mind it.

Of course you don’t. Lions like the chase.

Scar

And deer meat is delicious, so I’ve heard.

Wowwww. Enjoy time out with the hyenas. Take thirty and try again.

Scar

Damn! Alright then.

I’ll have a better attitude.

I’ll believe it when I see it.

5/

rough day

Deirdre

19 days before ‘the incident’

Never have I been more grateful for five o’clock. Usually I stay late and find something else to focus on, but after today, I am out this bitch.

The ride home calms me, R&B crooning from my car’s sounds system. A glass of wine and curling up with a book is about as much as I have energy for this evening.

Between the impromptu pop up and hearing about Darius being followed, I’ve had enough to think about today. Had it been me, I wouldn’t leave my house until the issue was eradicated. A climb in power creates more enemies than friends, and if I can’t handle people wanting me dead, maybe I’m not as brave as I thought.

The music quiets, interrupting my thoughts, followed by my Bluetooth announcing an incoming call.

“Call from Dad. Answer it?”

I huff, “Answer it.” The call connects a moment later. “Hey, Daddy,” I say as cheerfully as I can, all while rolling my eyes.

“Hey, Dee,” he greets me. “Are you still at the office?”

“I’m heading home.” I pause, wondering how I should handle my frustration. And then I just go for it. “What did your spies say about me?”

An exasperated sigh sounds from the other end. “Don’t get emotional about me checking in on our investments, Deirdre. You’re my daughter and I love you?—”

“But you don’t trust me,” I interject flatly. “Because of Lawrence. Like it’smyfault that he turned out to be a thief. I’m working my ass off to prove myself, and you send them to fucking spy instead of trusting me. How do you think that feels?” By the time I’ve finished my spiel, my voice is raised to a level I never use with my father.

“You want me to forgive you for bringing a thief into the fold? Fine, you’re forgiven. But if your discernment weren’t called into question, I wouldn’t have to send them to make sure everything is okay,” he tells me, his voice low and his words slow. “If you won’t include me in daily operations, I’ll find out what I need to know for myself.”

---