Golden [ #2 EFS ] ✓

Matchweek Twenty: Spurs vs. Liverpool

Early update cos its ya girl's birthday ;)

[ Take You Dancing by Jason Derulo ]

Chapter Twenty

   T R E N T

THE TENSION BETWEEN Samara and her father is thick and it's not comfortable. Samara looks like she's seen a ghost. She's pale, her eyes hold sadness and fear and she looks like she just wants to curl up in bed with a cup of tea. I wrap my arm protectively around her waist, pulling her closer to me and I warily watch her father. His eyes fall on my arm and his lips turn into a sneer.

"What are you doing here?" She asks with hurt in her voice.

She looks away, playing with her fingers or looking down at her shoes. She wipes her tears and I feel a sting at my heart as I watch her cry.

I read about her father after she told me about him. Francis Witmoore was originally born in France, but his parents migrated to England when he was a lad. There is no information about his previous family in London but it does say that he has a son that will take over his business. Of course, Francis Witmoore has his own airline, making millions every week. It makes me sick that he didn't even think about visiting Samara.

Francis clears his throat. "I heard the rumours about my daughter sleeping with a football player, and I had to confirm it." He states in disgust, eyeing me up.

I get the sense that he doesn't like me, and is it bad that I want the father of the woman that I possibly want to marry, to like me.

"And I see its true." He says and Samara's hand tightens around mine in a protective manner.

"Its none of your business anyways." Samara states, struggling to keep her frustration down.

"It is my business. I'm your father—"

"You're not my father. You're just a sperm donor to me." She spits with venom lacing her voice, and tears streaming down her face.

"Samara, can we—"

"No!" She yells. "You are nothing to me and I never want to see you ever again."

She walks out of the stadium, towards my car. Her father makes a move to go after her but I stop with.

"With all due respect Sir, she wants you to leave her alone and I suggest you do just that." I tell him respectfully.

His eyes turn dark with anger and disgust, and the next thing I know he's shoving me back. I stumble but catch my footing, sending a small glare his way.

"Stay out of this, boy. She is daughter and I want what's best for her. And you are not good for her at all."

"Well, unfortunately for you, that's not your decision to make." I tell him, walking out to Samara.

She's sitting on the hood of my car, with her face buried in her hands, most likely crying. I slowly walk to her, placing my hands gently on her thighs. Her eyes immediately fly open and she throws her arms around me, squeezing me for dear life. I let her cry into my chest, soothingly rubbing her back. I stroke her hair, pressing kisses to her hairline, holding her tightly to me.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She cries, gripping onto my shirt.

"Gorgeous, its okay. Don't apologize." I tell her, lifting her up and opening the car door.

"Wait." She says stopping me. "I want you to take me in the back seat of your car."

My eyes widen as I think about her body being pressed against my leather seat while I make sweet love to her. A blush creeps up my throat as she bites her bottom lip, making it impossible for me to say no to her. I know that I shouldn't have sex with her when she is in this state because I would feel like I'm taking advantage of her. But I'll do whatever she tells me to if it makes her feel better. I caress her cheek, placing a soft kiss on her lips.