Falling For My Ex's Dad (Clarissa and Gabriel)

Gabriel's POV

I'd been pacing back and forth across the living room like a lunatic, my fingers raking through my hair so much I could've torn it out.

It was past midnight. Adrian still wasn't home, but he wasn't the reason I was close to losing my mind.

Clairessa hadn't come back either.

No call. No text.

Not even a damn emoji.

I'd reached out all day-called, messaged. Nothing.

And of all the damn days she could disappear on me, it had to be today. It had to be this one.

The day I'd planned a grand surprise for her-just for her.

I'd been working on it for weeks. Quietly. Meticulously. Had people handling the details, making sure everything was ready. And today-of all days-it was finally done.

And the timing couldn't have been better.

She'd crushed the pitch on the Randolph Project-I watched her speak, command the room, leave everyone floored. Even Randolph himself, the CEO, looked at her like she was the best thing to happen to his company in a decade. I was so damn proud. So damn sure this was the moment.

And it just happened to line up with what I'd been putting together behind the scenes. Like fate had handed me the perfect setup.

I'd been waiting-excited even-for the look on her face when I showed her.

But I was sure she turned the damn phone off on purpose. That this- disappearing was her way of shutting me out after I told her I missed her, and she flung it back in my face like it meant nothing.

I knew I hurt her. I knew I didn't choose her when she begged me to. But it wasn't that simple.

She forced me into this crossfire. She came after me, knowing I was her ex's father. Lied. Hid the truth.

And now-I was in love with her. And fuck, my son was too.

She wanted me to choose.

And I did.

I chose to be a father.

Because that's what a man does-he sacrifices. Even if it guts him.

And now here I was, unable to shake the threats she hurled like a knife to the chest.

"I'd screw him if I had to."

My mind twisted it, replayed it, turned it into something darker-until I was

standing inside a fantasy I never asked for. Her body pressed against Adrian's, her fingers gliding over his chest like they used to over mine, her mouth parting as he-

Fuck.

I forced the thought away. I couldn't take it. It felt like my lungs were caving in.

Then-like some sick joke from the universe-a sound came from the front of the house. Keys.

The door pushed open. The shuffle of shoes. I turned on instinct.

Jane came rushing in.

"Mr. Storm," she said, breathless, her voice already putting me on edge. "Adrian's home-but... we have a situation."

I turned my heart was stalling.

Standing beside her was a young man I didn't recognize, struggling to keep Adrian upright. Adrian hung off his shoulder, limp and clearly out of it.

"What on earth..." I pushed forward. "Is he alright?"

The guy shifted Adrian's weight, trying to steady him. "Good evening, sir. I'm Brian

—Adrian's friend. He, uh... got a little too drunk at the party."noveldrama

A little drunk, my ass... The kid looked completely wasted.

Adrian groaned, his arm slipping off Brian's shoulder. "Daaaad..."

"You've got to be kidding me." My voice cracked with fury as I stared at the mess my son had become. "Adrian!"

He lifted his head, eyes barely open. “Daaaad,” he slurred, flashing a lazy grin. "Hey, Dad. Love you, Dad."

My jaw tightened. "Adrian, after everything that's happened today, you go and get wasted? Instead of thinking about your future?"

He wobbled, one arm thrown sloppily around Brian's neck. "It's fine... just had a ...little...fun, that's all. Don't be mad..."

I shot Jane a glare, biting back a string of curses. "He's such a disappointment." Jane stepped in gently. "Mr. Storm, maybe we should just get him to bed and let him sleep it off. You can talk with him in the morning, when he's clearer."

I waved a hand. "Yeah, whatever. Just get him out of my sight."

"Come on," Brian muttered, guiding Adrian down the hallway with Jane's help.

Adrian mumbled nonsense, throwing drunken finger hearts at me. "Dad... you're the best,” he slurred—and blew a sloppy kiss in my direction.

I nearly lost it.

But I exhaled hard and forced myself to stay calm.

A few minutes later, Brian came back, slightly out of breath. He held out his hand.

"Thanks for bringing my son home," I said stiffly, shaking it.

"Anytime, sir." Brian nodded and disappeared.

Then the front door opened again.

I turned and my whole body froze.

Clairessa.

My chest tightened, like I'd been jolted awake. Every suspicion snapped into sudden clarity.

There she was. Of course. Of course they had been out together.

She stepped into the light, the door clicking shut behind her.

And my eyes-God, my eyes-burned into her.

She wore a black halter-neck dress that clung tightly to her frame, skimming her thighs and molding to every curve like it had been poured onto her. The neckline plunged low, revealing the smooth swell of her breasts-just barely covered. That much skin had no business being seen outside this house. It was for my eyes only.

Her makeup was dark, sultry-seductive enough to make a man lose control without saying a word. She was the living proof of every damn thought that had tormented me all day.

"Where the hell are you coming from?" I bit out, struggling to keep my anger in check. "And what happened to your goddamn phone?"

She barely glanced at me. "I turned it off."

Then she kept walking past the living area toward the stairs.

I blinked. Let out a dry, bitter laugh. "You've got to be kidding me. You turned it

off? No texts? No calls? You didn't think I'd be worried?"

She stopped halfway up, finally facing me, expression flat. "Since when do you care what I do? You and I barely exchange two words in this house. We're strangers. So why the sudden fuss?" '

"You've never come home after midnight. And certainly not dressed like that."

I gestured at her-that goddamn flimsy excuse for a dress.

She glanced down like it was nothing. "What, this?"

"Yes. That. Half your thighs are on full display."

Her chin lifted, eyes cold. "I don't see

anything wrong with showing a little skin. And how would you even know what time I come home-or what I usually wear? You're never around to see it."

She had the nerve to call all that thigh "a little skin."

My mouth went dry as my gaze flitted over her slender, caramel-smooth legs, heat

rising fast. No-don't look.

That was a mistake. I forced my gaze back up to her face.

"I know everything that happens under this roof. Especially when it concerns you."

She rolled her eyes and turned her back, and something inside me snapped.

"Don't you dare walk away from me, Clairessa."

I took a breath, trying to steady myself. "Not until you answer my questions."

She shot me a nonchalant look-at least she knew better than to keep walking. "Have you been out with Adrian?"

Slowly, she turned, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "What Adrian and I do in our personal time is none of your business."

Wrong answer.

"You both work for me. You live in my home. That makes it exactly my business," I growled. "Whether you like it or not."

She scoffed, her tone mocking. "Oh, so now that I'm just crashing here— temporarily, until I find a new place you suddenly think you've earned the right to play Daddy?"

Fuck.

The way she said Daddy-soft and breathy, like a whispered gasp that slipped free when I drove into her tightness.

Memories of her moaning my name-Daddy-again and again, begging me to crashed over me all at once.

claim her

Every trace of reason burned away, consumed by an overwhelming need to remind her exactly who owned her.

"Relax," she added, voice dripping with teasing sweetness. "You don't have to

play Daddy. I never put you in charge. I'm a grown woman. I make my own

decisions."

Daddy.

That word hit me again, like a match to gasoline.

It was clear-she was provoking me.

Damn, she was toying with fire.

She knew exactly how much I craved control, how many times she'd surrendered

every inch of that irresistible body to me.

I should've been angry-hell, I was—but my eyes betrayed me, drifting back to

her mouth. That deep red lipstick painted her lips, drawing me in with every

breath.

And lower-

That sinful neckline... those soft, perky, creamy breasts enticing me to take one

nipple in my mouth.

Damn it...

The idea of them touching her, tasting her—it sent something primal ripping

through me.

She was mine. No one else.