Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Lily’s brown eyes go wide and she lets out a choked gurgling noise.
“You own Love is in the Bin?”
“I do,” I say in a smooth tone. “It’s hanging in my office at home. I suppose you’ve never been inside my office, but it’s there, in all its shredded glory. In fact, I had to have special temperature and humidity controls installed in my office to make sure the artwork retains its integrity.”
“My goodness!” Lily gasps, her eyes huge now. “Love is in the Bin is truly one of the masterpieces of contemporary street art. So you can see the heart-shaped balloon, but otherwise, the rest of the work hangs in shreds, right?”
“It does,” I say in a low tone. “The painting’s partially in tatters, but I guess that’s the point. Banksy was creating performance art, and now I have the honor of owning one of his masterpieces.”
“Wow,” Lily breathes, blinking at me. “I had no idea.”
I stare at her pretty features, especially her lush pout.
“But that’s the problem. You have no idea about anything, and that’s why you’re in hot water today. You’ve defaced the school’s property and forced me to leave a very important meeting to deal with your bullshit. Give it to her, Principal Pontillo,” I rasp. “Tell Lily what’s coming her way.”
“Well actually, we haven’t decided yet,” the portly man says, hemming and hawing while breaking out into a sweat. “This was all so sudden that we haven’t decided—”
I cut him off, fixing the brat with a harsh stare.
“You’re suspended,” I growl. “You’re staying home for two weeks to think about what you’ve done. You won’t be leaving the house, and in fact, I have half a mind to confine you to your room.”
“Now, I’m sure that isn’t necessary—” the principal begins, but I ignore him. The world has dwindled down to me and the brat, and it’s a clash of the wills.
“You will do everything I tell you to during those two weeks, including meditation on what went wrong today. At the end of those two weeks, I will evaluate your mental state, as well as your degree of remorse. Only then, you will be allowed to return to school.”
Lily stares at me, her mouth agape.
“But what about my schoolwork?” she asks in a small voice. “Surely, you don’t want me to fall behind, Daddy.”
I pin her with another hard look.
“You’ll be remote,” I grind out. “We have the pandemic to thank for that.”
Lily opens her mouth to protest again, but I’m already turning to Principal Pontillo.
“Does that work for the school?”
The portly man looks startled, his bald pate shiny with sweat.
“Well, I suppose so—”
“Oh, and of course, my apologies about the shed. I’ll pay for its repair, of course, and tell you what: we’ll remodel the stadium while we’re at it. I remember reading something from the Boosters about a fundraiser, and I’m happy to pitch in with a donation. Would five hundred thousand be a sufficient opening pledge?”
Principal Pontillo’s cheeks go red as he gapes and stammers.
“Why yes,” he manages. “Thank you for your generous gift, Mr. Kenneally. We’ll make sure your donation is well used.”
I stand, towering over the two seated figures.
“Then we’ll be on our way,” I say in a smooth tone. “Let’s go, Lily. Get your stuff. My car’s outside.”
I walk out of the office, my strides sure and swift. Without looking, I know that the naughty brat is trailing in my wake, her head down and steps repentant ... but unfortunately, this is only the start of Lily’s punishment.
4
Lionel
Istalk into the mansion, grateful for the cool air of the A/C. Lily follows along beside me, silent as a mouse. We didn’t talk in the car. Instead, I pulled out a towel from the trunk before spreading it over the passenger seat, and then gestured for her to get in. Thankfully, the brat didn’t protest. She got into the car, tucking her long legs beneath her, and stayed mum as I started the ignition.
Still, I couldn’t help but shoot the brat a few surreptitious sideways glances. Lily’s gorgeous, even in her messed-up state. The paint’s starting to dry on her clothes, rendering the cloth stiff, but the material can’t disguise those bounteous breasts and thick thighs that spread on the car seat. Her skin is pale ivory, and that delicate profile thoughtful and silent as we zoom through the leafy suburb of St. George.
I should make conversation. I should at least berate my stepdaughter for her bad acts, but I don’t because my mind’s going at a million miles an hour. I’ve basically put Lily on house arrest, and now, I’m in the awkward situation of disciplining a teenage girl for the next two weeks. Fuck. I know nothing about young women, and especially not when they’re lush and lovely, like my step.