Daddy's Little Pet | 18+

|Wolf In Sheep's Clothing|

ROBERT

*A FEW MINUTES EARLIER*

"Please give me a minute, Mr. and Mrs. Charles. I need to check on someone." I spoke to the elderly couple before me, and my gaze was drawn to the Rolex on my wrist.

"Certainly, Mr. Clarke. We'll be patient. The party is still going on, and we're not going anywhere." Mr. Charles smiled at me, then returned his attention to his wife and whispered in her ear.

They moved toward the crowded dance floor, where several elites and socialites had gathered, sipping their cocktails and mingling.

With a sigh, I glanced at my wristwatch for the umpteenth time and then back at the hall's entrance door, where Renee had vanished.

Not just a few seconds ago, but nearly a half-hour, and I was becoming increasingly concerned about her whereabouts with each tick of my watch.

She should've returned by now. It was unusual for her to spend so much time in the restroom, and as time passed, worry ate at my stomach like acid.

Renee was never late. She was always on time and given how the evening had caused such a strain on her, I knew she'd want to spend every second with me. So where the hell was she?

My fingers instinctively returned to the silver watch on my left wrist and I began to fiddle with the dainty accessory as various thoughts raced through my mind.

The well-placed air conditioners blew a cool breeze through the room, but it didn't ease the hotness I felt under my skin, and as if on cue, a bead of sweat trickled down my face.

My patience was waning thin. I needed to check on her.

With a swift yank, I ripped the mask off my face and handed it to a nearby waiter.

Then, I began to stride purposefully out of the ballroom, past the crowds of other guests, making a beeline for the nearest exit. But then suddenly a voice rang out, stopping me on a dime.  

"Mr. Clarke! Dad! Wait!"

Instantly I froze in my tracks and rooted there, dread seeped through every part of me.

"The hell?!" I muttered to myself as I heard the all-too-familiar voice say again from behind me.

"Won't you turn around and acknowledge me, Father? For fuck's sake."

Dylan? No fucking way. What was he doing here? How did he gain entry to the masked party? Who invited him? My mind was racing furiously.

All thoughts of looking for Renee vanished at that moment. I focused solely on the sound of the voice behind me, calling my name with unmistakable annoyance.

My eyes narrowed into slits as I slowly turned around to face him, and I clenched my jaw angrily, my expression hardening.

My gaze locked onto two familiar blue orbs, and my blood ran cold. The sight of him made an uneasy feeling settle inside my gut.

Standing a few feet away, under the illuminating chandelier, was my 23-year-old son, Dylan.

His dark hair, like mine, was combed and slicked back with gel. On his face sat a mask that matched the shade of the dark blue suit he wore while holding a glass of champagne.

His blue eyes gleamed with mischief and amusement as he stood with a smug look.

"Good day, Father." He greeted again, nodding maniacally before sipping wine from his glass.

He didn't say anything else after that. Instead, he stared at me with a smirk as if daring me to react to the tension between us.

Oh, how I wish I could slap that smug grin off his face.