I park the silver Tesla into a free parking spot before I grab my black Birkin Hermes from the passenger seat. I get out of the car and take one look at my Cartier Ballon Bleu watch. Shit, I am late for the career day at Jo's and Rory's school. I run through the grass in front of North London Collegiate School in Edgware, Middlesex. It's an hour away from London, but it was the best school for the girls. There are eleven tennis courts so Rory has plenty of options to choose when she wants to work on her forehand. She has been playing for two years and is making immense progress. She even played at the On Road To Wimbledon tournament this year and made it to the semi finals. Plus, they both seem to like it there. But who knows, maybe in a few years they're going to change schools to Westminster school in London.

I open the door of the auditorium and stop as soon as I see the line up of parents in front of me. Great, I am not that late after all.

"Oh, Gabriella, hi!" I hear Lauren, the single mother of Rory's best friend Kate, calling me. "Come over here!" She waves with her hand, being at least fifteen people in front of me.

I rush over to her, passing sixteen parents who are waiting in line for their turn. As today is career day, there's one parent for every student in the sixth years, that tells about his or her job. And because Troy's job is boring - at least according to Rory and Jo - I have the privilege to tell the 50 pupils about my job. As if they didn't know that, I'm sure they're reading the tabloids daily or scroll through the internet or simply Facebook is enough to find out about my husband and me - stuff about our whole family, really. It's what comes with success.

"Hi, Lo!" I greet her, hugging the blonde mother of two girls. Both Kate and Julie are attending this school. Kate's eleven just like my girls, while Julie is three years younger. "How are you?"

"Bored." She yawns, "There are two more parents in front of me, but with you it's now three."

"But I just got here, really I don't mind being last in line. After all, it's my fault I am late." I say.

"Fiddlesticks!" She waves with her hand before softly pushing me in front of her. "Besides, your job is by far more interesting than mine."

I chuckle, "At least you don't have to deal with my kind of stress." Lauren is a real estate agents for luxury properties.

"But I get to deal with bitches and their sugar daddies."

I laugh out loud, I seriously love her!

"Besides, I was lucky and got a slice of your epic unicorn cake two weeks ago. Let me tell you, it was amazing!" The annual charity baking festival was two weeks ago and like every year I baked a cake and cupcakes. They were quite popular and sold out within the first hour - at least that's what Valentina told me as she sold them while I was on a business conference in Barcelona.

I smile at her sweet comment. "Thank you."

Suddenly the man in front of me turns around, "That unicorn cake was made by you?" He has soft brown eyes and hair.

I nod, "Baked with my own hands."

"Really?"

"She is a baking genius!" Lo says, nodding heavily while she rests her hands on my shoulders.

"I'm not so sure about that. She's exaggerating."

"It looked amazing and I thought one of those housewives made it or even bought it from a bakery. Never in the world would I have thought it was made by you."

"I've had a lot of years to practice and failures until my skills got so good."

"Liar! Ana showed me one of her birthday cakes you made her. You turned Monet's water lilies into a cake!"

"No way!" The man breathes out.

"All I did was give Ana a blank canvas. She painted the water lilies on it. It wasn't just my work."

"But the Cookie Monster cake was when you threw a Sesame Street birthday party for the twins for their fifth birthday." Lauren points out. "Or the beehive you made for Nate's second birthday as well as the two story dark green cake with a carousel on top of it made out of freaking buttercream! And don't forget the four story peacock cake you made for Della's sixteenth birthday."

I flush. "How many photos did Ana show you?!" I hiss at her.

"Enough to make me think you should open a bakery."

"I'd be the first one to order something." The man says with a kind smile. "I'm Brad."

"Gabriella and that bakery is not going to happen."I love my job otherwise I wouldn't be doing it for almost twenty five years now.

"Lauren, but everyone calls me Lo."

"I know." Brad says to me. "It's hard to not see you on the news these days."

I flush, "Comes with my job. What do you do for living?"

"I'm a professor at Cambridge."

"What do you teach?" Lauren asks.

"Politics." He answers. "And you?"

"I'm a real estate agent." Lauren squeezes my shoulders, "And she's that music mogul as you know."

I chuckle, "I have my own record company but that's it."

"Exceedingly modest." Lauren says as we walk further in line. "As always."

"Sitting on a high horse has never helped anyone." I say with a shrug, "Which girl is yours?" I ask, peaking behind the black velvet curtain. I spot my daughters right away, clearly seeing their blue orbs. My husband has the same. Their chestnut waves are framing their faces and they chuckle as a blonde girl, Kate, whispers something to them. On the stage Eva Halliwell is talking about her job as a firefighter.

"That one." Brad points to a girl that has dark hair and eyes. There are freckles sprinkled all over her face and there are black framed glasses sitting on her nose. She's sitting four rows behind my girls and is reading a book instead of caring what's going on the stage.

"She's lovely. What's her name?"

"Tiffany."

"Kate and Julie, my girls, are sitting next to Rory and Jo, Gabriella's girls." Lauren points at our girls. "We should let the girls hang out some time."

Brad chuckles, "Tiffany doesn't really like..." he stops.

"Doesn't really like what?" I stare at him.

He shrugs, "Your girls are the popular ones. Tiffany is anything but that."

I look at Lauren, "Did you know about this?" Rory's so busy with tennis, that she's hardly home. But Jo... she must be the popular. We've hosted a dozen sleepovers in the last years and all sorts of theme parties, including Halloween.

She shrugs, "I mean with all the sleepovers I guessed it... but I didn't know."

"Your girls rule the school. At least according to Tiff." Brad says with a shrug.

I feel like I don't know my daughters at all. How could I have not seen their popularity? I haven't been around often enough. I should be more present in their lives, bake more cakes and go to more career days. I look back at Brad, "Well, Tiffany is invited to the next sleepover party at my house. Or any party in general."

He smiles. "I'm sure she's going to be excited about that."


I press the button of the intercom, "Andrea I need you to make sure the jet is ready tomorrow for a trip to LA." I say before getting back on my mails. Flying to LA wasn't exactly in my plans either until a few hours ago, but when Jason, my eyes and ears there, asks for me to come by, I come by. He wouldn't ask me if it weren't important - and according to his mails it is important. Besides while I'm there I can make sure Andrea hooks me up for some interviews to promote my business over the big pond. Every now and then, I need to be seen by my employees just so they don't get the ridiculous idea they can do whatever the hell they want.

Suddenly my phone rings and I pick up.

"It looks like your jet is currently in Mykonos. It's planned to fly back to London in two days. Do you want me to get it here or shall I-"

"I'll clear that, thank you." Who the fuck is in Mykonos with my jet?! I pick up my cellphone and scroll through my contacts until I find my brother.

He picks up after the first ring. "Hey there!"

"Tell me you are in Mykonos right now."

"Oh, I wish! You know how much I love doing this nonprofit but man Mykonos? I wouldn't turn it down in the world!" Ryan has become Co-CEO of the Bolton Foundation, because he did an amazing job on my maternity leave and the nonprofit has really grown near and dear to his heart.

"Who the fuck is in Mykonos then?!" I think out loud.

"With your jet?"

"Yeah. I know yours is currently in Toronto because that's where Kelsi is. So, I figured you took ours to fly to Mykonos." We share jets like they're cars - which they practically are.

"My days of hitting the club are long gone, Gabi. But I wouldn't mind to dance a few nights away in Mykonos."

I frown, "Well, Troy's not there as well. Who else would take the jet?"

"Luc and Miley?"

I shake my head, although he can't see me. "They're in France at the vineyards."

"Della?"

She would totally do that. I hang up. How stupid was I to not think of my own children first? I call Della right away and wait for her to pick up. Eventually she does. "Are you in Mykonos?"

"Good Morning Della. How are you? - that's how you start a conversation. You taught me that, Mom." She sounds just like her father.

"Della!" I hiss through my teeth.

"No, I am not in Mykonos. I am at St. Mary's. At work."

"You're working?"

"Yes, like I told you this morning. Before you accuse me of kidnapping our jet, you should start thinking of the obvious."

I frown, "What?"

"Ana!" She hisses at me.

Right, Ana... "No, she wouldn't do that."

"You sure? Because I haven't heard from her in weeks."

"She's busy in Oxford."

"I don't think she's there right now." Della answers dryly.

I hang up without another word and call my other daughter. I listen to the line ringing, still not really believing Della. Ana wouldn't kidnap the jet for a weekend getaway, would she?

"Mom?" She growls into the phone. She sounds hungover. Really hungover.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I yell at her. I can't believe she took the jet to Mykonos.

"Mom, look-"

"No you will hop into the jet after this conversation and fly back home!"

She yawns into the phone. Clearly, she was still asleep. "Mom, chill. I'm just here for the weekend. I will leave the day after tomorrow."

"Anastasia Katherine Grace Bolton, you will get your ass back on British ground or I will personally drag you all the way from Greece to home. With your father next to me!"

"I'm already on my way home." I can hear her waking up someone else. A deep growl fills the phone and I know she didn't spent the night alone. Most likely this weekend wasn't for partying at all but more for her own pleasure. I pray that they used protection. I shiver at the thought of becoming a grandmother. I'm just forty years old - nowhere near ready to becoming a grandmother.

"Ana," I hiss at her.

"Mom, I've got your message. I just thought spending the weekend here in Greece would be nice that's all."

"Nice?"

"Yeah, nice."

"Who's with you?"

"Who said that anyone is-"

"I heard him. Give me his name."

She remains silent.

"Anastasia, give me his name!" I demand again.

"So, you guys could investigate him? Hell no!"

"Ana if we really wanted that, we'd find other ways." I say to her. Troy probably already knows who she is seeing, but I don't tell her that.

"His name is Jake." She says and I can hear the grin in her voice. "But that's all you'll get from me."

Jake. She's sleeping with a guy named Jake. "Are you using protection?"

"Mom!" She cries out but giggles.

"Ana,"

"Of course we are! I'm not ready to be a mother by any means. I am nineteen!"

"And how old is he?"

"Older."

"Ana,"

"Twenty five."

"Six years older?"

"And twenty four days, yes."

"I don't think-"

"See that's why I didn't want to tell you!"

"I was going to say that age doesn't matter."

"What?"

"Your father is two years older than me. I would have married him even if six years separated us."

"Woah, Mom, no one is talking about marriage! We're just having fun!"

"Well he's stupid if he doesn't."

"Mom!"

"How long have you been having fun?"

"I don't know. A while."

With her eidetic memory she doesn't know?! "You're a very bad liar."

"I haven't had enough practice."

"Spill."

"Forty six weeks and four days."

"Almost twelve months?!" How could I have not known this?!

"Mom, please stop investigating me. If you really want me to leave Mykonos then hang up so I can start packing."

"Oh, no, you're staying on the phone with me. Jake can do the packing."

"He travels light."

"Then he better do your packing as well!" I hiss at her, "How come I don't know about him?"

"Mom, do I really have to tell you about every human I am with all the time?"

"Yes because it was a freaking condition when you moved to Oxford!"

She sighs after a full minute of silence, "Alright fine, what do you want to know?"

I lean back in my chair. "Where did you meet?"

"Marrakesh. A year ago."

"In Morocco where you were with Della?"

"Yes. He bumped into our car. Della freaked out like Dad would if we ever scratched his Ferrari, although we drove an old Golf. She gave him a sermon, we exchanged our insurance papers and he invited us for a cup of mint tea while we waited for the breakdown service to come. We got into talking..."

"And a year later you're still seeing each other. Is he British?"

"No, he's American."

"Does he still live there?"

"He lives in Boston. We see each other every time he's in England."

"And how often is that?"

She sighs, "Mom, can you stop investigating me already?!"

"You rather want your Dad to do that?" I question her back instead.

"A few times a month."

"So, you're in a long distance relationship."

"No, we're not in a relationship. We're just having fun."

"Having fun?"

"Yeah, he likes me and I like him."

"That's something Della would say but not you. Your heart lays in your vagina, Ana."

"Mom!" She cries out giggling. "Please stop!"

"No, I won't because you took our jet to Mykonos so you can be with him alone in a villa under the Greek sun! I want the truth. Every single bit of the truth, Ana. Do you understand me?"

"Yes."

"Are you monogamous? Exclusive? What is his job? Does he treat you well? Are you happy? Has he-"

"Stop!" She cries out. "Please stop."

"Then invite him over for dinner next week."

"No, I will not! Not even Della knows we're seeing each other. I won't introduce him to my parents. Hell no! He's not even my boyfriend. I don't know what we are!"

"You better figure it out because I will kill him if he hurts you."

"Mom, don't go there."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, "Stay at Mykonos. I'll take the plane from your Dad's company."

"Really?"

"Figure things between you out and bring him to dinner next week."

"But Mom!"

"No." I hiss at her. "I will not allow my daughter to fuck with some guy named Jake and-"

"Mom!"

"Dinner, next week."

"No." she insists. She's stubborn.

"Ana-"

"I'll ask him, but if he says no, which I am pretty sure he does, then this dinner will happen without him."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Do you love him?"

She's silent on the other end of the line.

"Do you, Ana?"

"I don't think so. It's just physical right now..." She whispers into the phone. Clearly they haven't really spoken about their emotions.

I don't believe a single word. "Figure this out. If you do, tell him."

"But what if-"

"You don't back down from a challenge, Ana. You're smarter than this."

"I know that."

"And prepare him for your Dad. He might question the shit out of him the first time he sees him."


I go through another vinyasa before I do a forearm stand. Bending my knees, I shift my weight to the back as I move my hips away from my head. I hallow my back in the natural curve of my spine. As my toes are touching my head, I take deep breaths to fill my lungs with air. The scorpion pose is one of the most challenging poses, but I love the battle of my ego telling me it's too hard and then proving that my mind wins over my body every single time. I close my eyes and let the meditation music bring me to a place of peace and pure clarity.

Suddenly, the gym door swings open. "What did you do?!" Jo yells at me. I wince from the strength of her voice, hearing more of her father than I'd like to.

I open my eyes and look up, only to see my two daughters standing in front of the pink lululemon yoga mat with crossed arms. They're still dressed in their white laced cold shoulder dresses that they picked out this morning. While they may wear the same, they still don't look very much alike. Rory has my curls in Troy's chestnut hair colour, my thin lips and cheekbones. Jo's hair is more wavy and silky and also chestnut coloured. She has sky blue eyes unlike the icy blue of her younger sister.

"I'm sorry?" I ask them before slowly getting out of the pose.

"Tiffany." Rory barks at me.

"I remember. Her father was very nice." I pick up the towel from the chair and swipe off the sweat.

"Is that why you invited her to our sleepovers? Because you're into her father?!" Jo hisses at me.

"Don't be ridiculous. We talked backstage before I told everyone how awesome your Mom is." I say back and pick up the water bottle. "Tiffany seems nice. She sat there all alone, away from all the other girls."

"Yeah, there's a reason why!" Rory hisses at me as I take a big gulp of my water.

"Because she's a freak!" Jo hisses at me. "I don't hang out with freaks!"

"Neither do I."

"Girls, she is not a freak. She may be a little lonely but that's it. Maybe she's not as extroverted as you are."

"No, Mom, you don't understand. She is a freak! All she does is scribble into her notebook. Kim once saw what she wrote and it were some kind of poems and death wishes! She doesn't talk to any one in class and she wears only black!"

"Yeah, she even bit Miss Larson in class once." Rory agrees with her older sister.

Jo shakes her head, "There's no way I will ever get near her."

"Girls," I put down the water bottle. "You don't discriminate others just because they wear only black or scribble into their notebooks."

"She's fat!"

"Rory!" I hiss at her, shocked by her statement.

"But she's right, Mom. Tiffany is overweight. She never gets picked up for group games at PE. She's always the last one and she always sits on the bench."

"Does she play tennis?" I ask Rory.

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"I do. She does. I've seen her once playing with Mr. Chambers."

"She does?" Rory asks confused.

"Yeah, she takes private lessons from him. Like you."

Rory frowns, "But she's not also training with Andy Murray, is she?" Andy Murray is Rory's tennis trainer. He's a former top tennis player, being UK's number one player for fifteen years in a row. He really believes in Rory's talent and thinks she's going to win all four Grand Slam tournaments before she's twenty. I think she's going to win her first Grand Slam before she's sixteen, making her the youngest Grand Slam winner in history.

Jo shrugs. "I don't think so. I mean, he would tell you if he was training with her, wouldn't he? I mean, he's training with you exclusively."

"Great, we'll invite her over for a tennis match then." I say and clap into my hands.

"Mom, no!" Rory barks at me.

"Yes, Lorelai Olivia Valentina Bolton. You will show your best manners and invite her over for Saturday."

"I can't. I have training with Murray on Saturday."

"Then make it Sunday noon." I hiss at her.

"Listen," Jo starts, showing her diplomatic features that she got from me. "How about we meet with her at the tennis club instead of here?"

"Why?" Rory asks her older sister.

"I don't know about you, but I don't want the creep to know where we live. She might steal something or do her voodoo tricks or something."

Rory nods, "Good point." She looks back at my open mouth, "Tennis club on Saturday after my training with Murray. I might be tired after a two hour session but I'll still beat her with ease."

I inhale deeply, "Okay."

"Oh and we'll invite Kate and Julie as well. The more the merrier." Jo adds with a grin on her lips.

I have a bad feeling about this. "You're not planning some kind of prank, are you?"

"You're the one who wanted us to meet her! Now that we've come to a compromise you're having second thoughts about this?!" Rory hisses.

"She just wants to meet Tiffany's Dad again." Jo grins.

"No, I do not." I hiss through my clenched teeth.

"Mom, I get it. All the other mothers have their hots for him too."

"I am not interested in Brad."

"They're already on first name basis." Jo teases me before giggling with Rory.

I roll my eyes and point to the door. "Go!"

Rory and Jo giggle at me and walk away but suddenly stop and stumble. I don't have to turn around to know the reason. I can feel his gaze burning holes into my skin. He must have heard the whole conversation.

"Looks like someone's in trouble and it isn't us." Jo whispers to her younger sister.

"Saturday!" I remind Rory and Jo as I turn around. I watch their chestnut coloured wavy heads dug under Troy's arm before they walk out of the gym. His dark blue eyes are trained on me as he shuts the door close with a loud bang before locking it. His fingers push a button underneath the light switch and the windows turn milky as they become frosted so no one can look inside from the backyard. The bright sunny light gets dimmed right away, giving now a soft lighting. He doesn't say anything as he walks over to me, still dressed in that light grey crisp suit I picked out this morning. I even tied the navy knot around his neck.

He gets out of his jacket and throws it on the chair. "Get naked." He demands, yanking on the knot of his navy tie while he slips off his shoes.

I gulp, but feel my body obeying him nevertheless. I get out of my deep purple leggings, fighting with the tight fabric that hugged my body so perfectly for her last two hours. Sweat starts coming out of my pores as a new heatwave rushes through my body.

He unbuttons his white Oxford shirt with fast fingers before opening the platinum cuffs links with his initials on it. I stare at his eight clearly defined abs, well aware that I am the luckiest woman on earth to be calling this god-like man my husband for twenty years now. His muscles are long and lean, he is not bulky like most men. As he turns around to lay his shirt on the back of the chair, I admire the way the muscles in his back stretch and move.

"You're still dressed." He says dryly as he opens the black Armani belt.

I feel my mouth going dry as the trousers fall down his legs, revealing an impressive bulge in his black Armani briefs. Shit, I really am the luckiest woman on earth!

"I'm not in the mood for your fucking games, my angel." He hisses as he stripes off his briefs.

I can't move as a I stare at his massive dick that's resting against his stomach, already ready for me. I feel a pool of moisture forming in my laced panties as the heat inside of my builds. My heart starts pounding in my chest, nearly breaking my rip cage. What did I do to deserve him?

"Fine." He growls before yanking down my black laced panties. He pulls my yoga bra up and all I can do is stretch my arms as he moves the bra over my head.

"I guess you heard the whole conversation?" I ask as he throws the bra to the floor and I step out of the panties.

"Next time, I'll go to the career day." He hisses, "You're not even safe at a girls school only." His dark navy orbs sparkle with jealousy that makes even love him even more.

I chuckle, "I like when you get jealous."

"You mean you like the rough fucking." He says into my eyes as I fondle his cheeks, feeling the stumbles from his beard coming in as he didn't shave this morning.

"Especially that." I say with a nod as my forefinger runs over his lips. I've kissed those lips a million times in the last twenty two years that we've been together, but each kiss feels like the first one.

"You're giving me a heart attack."

I lace my fingers behind his neck and lift myself on my tippy toes before kissing him, "I think that's only fair since you're doing the same to me, Mr. Bolton."


I pour the red Chardonnay into our wine glasses before taking a sip of mine. We're enjoying the silence of the evening in our living area while all of our children are fast asleep - including Della. The sun has set hours ago and after a few hours of work at my computer I decided to call it a night and get cosy with my husband. "I need to take your plane tomorrow morning. Is it clear and ready?"

He nods, "But what's wrong with ours?"

"It's in Mykonos." I say with a shrug.

He frowns at me, "Mykonos?"

I lean back on the couch, "Ana's there with Jake."

I watch the bright blue of his orbs turn navy within a second, "What? Who's Jake?"

He didn't know? How can he not know this?! "He's her... something."

"Something?!" he echoes my words.

"They're seeing each other but are not committed to one another."

"She's making your fucking mistakes." He takes a big gulp out of his wine glass.

I frown, "What's that suppose to mean?"

"Not committing, fucking around just for the sake of fucking-"

"Watch your mouth!" I hiss through my teeth.

"I'm not calling you a whore. You are anything but that. But before we met you never let anyone close enough to you to feel something, to feel anything but that physical connection." He explains, grabbing both of my hands. "I love you, you know I do, but I wished your sexual history would be shorter. Because it would have saved me a lot of anger." He kisses my knuckles in apology.

I lick my lips, "I am not ashamed of my past. I don't regret anything I did." Expect for Lucas. He was a mistake. A big mistake. "I reacted that way because of my abusive past. Keeping a distance was what I needed in order to have any sort of relationship with the opposite sex whatsoever. Yes, I bedded men but for Christ's Sake get over that. We've been together for twenty two years and you are still as jealous as if we had just met. Give me, no give us, more credit than that. After all, I don't question for fuckmates as well."

"That's because my fuckmates are not running around on the same charity events as yours." He counters with clenched teeth. "And whenever we cross one of mine, she leaves in a blink of an eye after a glance from you."

"Because I know how to fucking protect what's mine!"

He tilts his head to the side, "Yes, you do."

"But Ana is not me. Her childhood before we brought her home was not good, but that doesn't mean she can't let anyone close to her. She can, in fact she's the most compassionate person I know. She loves with all her heart, Troy. She's doesn't fuck around mindlessly."

He lets go of my hands. I watch his jaw stiffen as he is clenching his teeth. He sighs before taking another big gulp of his wine, "Then why haven't we met him, huh?!"

"I don't know. I thought you knew about him and her."

"No, I don't." he barks, taking a big gulp of his wine.

I tuck in my knees and watch his whole body language change. "Aren't you having her watched as well?"

"No, but I certainly should have! Who's that Jake?!" he barks at me again.

I shrug, "I don't know much. I know he's from Boston and that they met in Marrakesh last year with Della. He bumped into their rental car and Della apparently freaked out the way you would if she ever scratched your Ferrari. Jake bought them a cup of mint tea while they waited for the breakdown service to come. They got into talking..."

"And now he's fucking my daughter?!" his orbs are black by now.

I gulp, "Don't worry, they're using protection."

"They better!" he breathes out. "Fuck, we both know how ineffective protection can be!" True, Della got created while I was generally on the birth control pill. But during my period when I stopped taking the pill and we had sex... Della was the result. One single time, it was all it took to change our life for the better.

I lick my lips, "I'm sure they're extra careful."

"She's nineteen for Christ's sake!"

"Remember how it was when you were nineteen. You were fucking around as well." I point out, trying to get some sense into his brain.

"I was not fucking around. I was with Katherine-"

"See? And she has Jake."

"Jake!" he spits out the name like it's toxic.

"If it makes you feel any better, I think this is more than just a mindless fuck every once in a while." I decide to not tell him she's madly in love with him because Ana clearly hasn't informed Jake about her crystal clear feelings.

"It doesn't. Do you have his full name?"

I shake my head, "No, she didn't give it out on purpose. Afraid we'd react the way you do right now."

"Well, I'll have his full data in less than 24 hours anyway."

I hold up my hand, "See? That's exactly why!"

"If you think I'll let a stranger bed my daughter, then you're dead wrong, Gabriella! I will find out all of his secrets, every bit of dirt and all the skeletons he hides in his closet."

"Troy," I sigh and shake my head, "let them have some fun."

"Fun?!"

I nod, "Yes."

"What else do you know about him?"

"Not much. He's six years older than her."

"25? She's sleeping with someone in his mid-twenties?!"

"Is that really so shocking?! Of course she's into older men, Troy! She's a fucking genius-"

"Della is not seeing anyone, I know that."

I narrow my eyes at him, "None that you know of."

"None, that she has seen with."

"Well, maybe she has an affaire with one of the doctors at St. Mary's? It would be just like Grey's Anatomy-"

"Gabriella, I don't have the nerve to worry about my other daughter's sex life as well! Those car races are enough to worry about!" Suddenly he rises from the couch, "I need something stronger than wine for this." he mumbles before walking away.

I let out a sigh, they are technically adults. Of course they're having sex. They're just at the beginning of their lives! I take another sip of my wine before I follow him into his study. I stop in the doorway as I see him on the phone.

"I need the whole thing. Full profile, Krimov." he says into the phone, pacing from side to side with a glass of Scotch in his free hand. "Great, thank you." he hangs up and turns around, stopping in his movement as he sees my angry face.

I slam the door shut behind me, "How fucking dare you!" I yell at him so loudly that he winces. "It is one thing to have Della watched when she's out of the house - but Ana?! She has done nothing wrong, nothing that would justify these actions of you!"

"She's my daughter - that's reason enough!" he hisses at me as I march over to him.

"She deserves her privacy! She deserves our trust! She deserves-"

"to be kept safe!" he interrupts me, leaning forward on the mahogany desk. "You don't need me to remind you in what a shitty world we live in, do you?! This is not just about our celebrity status - this is about the monsters that live in the underground. The underground my father calls home, Gabriella!"

"If you think Jake's from there then-"

"I am her father and as that I have to protect her from every potential threat out there."

"He's just a guy she's seeing!" I wave with my hands in the air. "Give her more credit than that. Wlad trained her well! She can very much protect herself, Troy. She knows how to read people, knows to how fight back and kill a human with her bare hands. Isn't that enough? Do you really have to dig even more into her personal life?"

"You don't have to read his file then." he hisses out between his clenched teeth.

I sigh before walking over to a walnut wooden drawer cabinet on the left side of the wall. I pull the last drawer out, revealing all the files that have collected over the last years. There are sixty five black folders hanging in total: all men and women that have ever had any contact with Della or Ana at work or university. Calling Troy overprotective is a massive understatement. "I think those are enough. You don't need to add another one."


A big thank you for all your kind reviews on the first chapter of A Million Times More. I love reading your feedback and thoughts on my writing.

Please review this chapter as well!