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Dressed in a sharp black suit, her blonde hair pulled back in a sleek knot, Ivy Davies takes a seat next to Stanley. She flicks her gaze to my surprised face and everything becomes clear. Those beautiful turquoise orbs I’ve gazed into for hours on end—are her father’s eyes.
Ivy Davies isn’t her real name. She’s Ivy Bright, and looks every inch the business prodigy her father is training her to be.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
More lies. Am I in the twilight zone?
She flicks those eyes to mine with a message. A plea for discretion, perhaps? I see the flash of the pain and confusion I’m feeling mirrored in her hollow, haunted expression.
Leaving me in a surreal fog as the meeting commences.
Stan introduces his team, ending with Ivy. As if the day couldn’t get worse, he drops another bombshell eviscerating my entire being. “Cillian, this is my daughter, Ivy. She just turned eighteen, but finished both high school and her undergraduate business degree this year. I’m proud to say, she’ll start her master’s program at Stanford Business School this fall before she takes her executive role at Bright Shipping.”
Every drop of blood freezes in my veins.
I feel like I’m about to pass out. The room spins. The walls close in.
Eighteen.
Every moment with her, every conversation, every discussion about the future crashes down around me. Lies. All summer long. About her age. Her virginity. About who she is.
Everything.
And yet, as Stanley continues to describe the project and the impending timeline, the only thing I can think of is the raw, undeniable pain etched into her features.
Why does she look like a ghost? What’s happened to her in the days we’ve been apart?
Stan stands up. “Cillian, I’m looking forward to discussing our new vision and how McGloughlin Construction’s capabilities line up.”
How I manage to nod and begin the presentation, I do not know. Probably muscle memory, at this point. I’ve never been more discombobulated in all my life. “As you can see from the plans on my most recent project…” I project detailed blueprints on the screen behind me, “…we’re prepared to not only meet but exceed the current standards for environmental efficiency and safety in construction.”
I continue answering the questions tossed in my direction. Stan seems oblivious to the glances Ivy and I steal. It seems like she’s trying to get a message across. Maybe an apology. Or, warning me not to say anything. I also could be making this shit up in my head. What the fuck do I know?
As the meeting wraps up, against all odds, Stan seems pleased. “Impressive, Mr. McGloughlin. We’ll be in touch shortly with our decision.”
My plan was to stay behind and talk to Ivy, but I’m ushered out and my pass is taken away. Back in my truck, I stare at the building. Wonder if I should sit here and wait until she comes out. I’m sure there are security cameras everywhere, though. At some point, someone’s going to ask questions.
She’s okay. Alive. Out of harm’s way.
Which means?Fuck.
Gripping the steering wheel tightly, my thoughts are still a chaotic swirl. Now, with new emotions. Anger, betrayal, and confusion wrestle for dominance in my mind.
Eighteen. I fucked Ivy on her eighteenth birthday. She was a virgin.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
Thank Christ we kept to ourselves. If my friends or family knew, I’d be a laughingstock.
Oh, Jesus.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
If her father finds out I stole his precious daughter’s innocence, he’ll kill me. Literally kill me.
I feel like a disgusting creeper. I can’t even count about how many times my cock’s been inside her body. Her pussy. Her mouth. Her ass. How many times did I make her come? How many times did I fill her with my seed?
She’sfourteenyears younger than me, not eight.
