When Kent walks into his office, he’s surprised to see Daniel standing there, staring out the window, watching a car pull away.
“Who is in that car?” Daniel asks.
Kent crosses to his desk and sits down in his chair, folding his hands. He takes a moment to study his son. Daniel is tall, handsome, clever; but he doesn’t yet have the grit that he needs to lead this family.
“If you already know,” Kent says softly. “Why don’t you just tell me what you’re thinking?”
“Fine,” Daniel says, and Kent is happy to hear some anger in his voice. Daniel turns to look Kent in the eye. “That’s my girlfriend’s family, riding away in that car. What did you do to them?”
“I did nothing to them,” Kent says, “except a favor to Fay Thompson, this girlfriend you never told me about. Tell me, how long have you been seeing her?”
“Cut the crap, dad,” Daniel says, angrily crossing to confront him. Kent smiles, pleased to see a little fire in this studious boy. “You know I’ve only been seeing her for a few months – you know –“
“I know,” Kent interrupts, “that she is not who you thought she was. And I know that you’ve already heard all about this from your gossip of a bodyguard. So why don’t you ask me your real question,” Kent says, looking at his son coldly.
Daniel grits his teeth and puts his hands in his pockets, in so many ways the very picture of his father. “Do I really have to marry her?”
“You have been engaged to Fay Alden since your childhood,” Kent says quietly. “It would be an advantageous match. She’s got the connections, the family, the money you’d need to keep this family afloat. The question is…do you want her?”
Daniel looks away from him, embarrassed. “She’s fine. She’s very nice. And funny.”
“What,” Kent says, his voice deliberately mocking. “Is that all? She doesn’t do it for you, Daniel? Doesn’t raise your…heartrate?”
Daniel blushes and scowls. “No, it’s nothing like that – it’s just –“
“It’s just what, Daniel,” his father says, banging his hand on the desk, trying to shock the truth out of him. “You’ve got other girls on the line?”
“No,” Daniel says quickly, glaring. “I have…I have lots of girlfriends, you know. Girls for different…occasions…” he mumbles this, and his father subtly shakes his head.
Kent knows his son has…proclivities. Frankly, he doesn’t care, as long as Daniel does his duty by the family.
“You will take a wife,” Kent says, his voice granite.
“I will.” Daniel says, his head hanging a little, acknowledging his obligation. “I just want to make sure she’s the right one.”
Kent stands to put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder, glad to see him acknowledge his responsibilities. “So, what are the objections to a girl like Fay?”
Daniel shrugs, not knowing what to say, except the unthinkable: she knows I’m gay and she hates me for it.
“What,” Kent presses, giving him a little shake. “Is she…impure? Does she fool around with other guys?”
Daniel looks up at his father, frowning, a little pissed off at his implications. “Come on, Dad,” he snaps. “You know she’s not.”
Kent laughs and shakes his son’s shoulder. “Good, it’s good to get angry sometimes, son. Let it feed you. Take it, control it.”
Daniel sighs, sorry to have played into his father’s hand once again. “You know Fay is…pure. I’m the only guy she’s ever dated, her first love. And I haven’t touched her.”
His father raises an eyebrow at that, silently asking why not, but Daniel frowns and shakes his father’s hand off his shoulder. “We barely started dating, okay? There wasn’t…time.”
“She’s a good girl,” Kent confirms, looking over his son’s shoulder out the window. “She’s loyal, kind, innocent. But brave, too.”
Kent’s mind wanders for just a moment as he considers his interactions with Fay. Her wide-eyed innocence, her creamy ivory skin, that long red hair. He was impressed with her performance today, too. She has grit, he thinks, that she doesn’t know she has.
She reminds him, suddenly, of the Sicilian girls he met when he would go back to Italy with his mother as a boy – delicate by one turn, temperamental the next, at once a dove and a viper.
His thoughts turn, then, to those moments in the club, when he had been fooling Dean into thinking Fay was his plaything. Fooling himself, really. He had been hard as a rock, looking down at her supple form, that soft curve of her breast after he snapped the strap of her dress –
Kent blinks, bringing himself back to the room, and finds Daniel looking at him strangely. Kent clears his voice, keeping his face unreadable.
“She’ll be a good wife, son,” he says, patting his boy again on the shoulder. “You can’t do better, and you could do worse. And it’s good you met outside of the arrangement – at least you two know you like each other to begin with. That will make things…easier.”
Daniel shrugs, not meeting his eyes.
“What is it?” Kent demands.
“She’s just kind of…mad at me,” Daniel confesses. “We kind of had a fight. A big one.” He looks up at the ceiling. “And now she’s upstairs. And we’re engaged.” He shrugs and shudders a little bit. “I don’t know, it’s weird!”
Kent frowns at him, then, a little frustrated. “Pull it together, boy,” he says, his voice cold. “One day you’ll have control of this family, and the least difficult thing you’ll have to control is that girl. Toughen up, Daniel.”
Daniel straightens his shoulders, trying, but still doesn’t meet Kent’s eye. “What should I do? How do I do it?”
“Teach her,” Kent explains. “She’s not part of this world, and if she’s going to survive in it, you’ve got to teach her how to be a mafia wife. Her life is in your hands.”
Daniel meets his father’s eyes then, seeing the truth in his words. Kent is glad to see that he seems to rise to the challenge. Perhaps this is what it will take to make Daniel a good man: the right woman.
Sensing some closure to the problem, Kent pats Daniel roughly on the shoulder again and gives him a shove, dismissing him from his office. With a small smile, Daniel leaves.
Before the door closes behind him, Kent catches sight of Daniel looking up the stairs, considering a visit with his bride-to-be.
Kent seats himself at his desk again, staring at the closed door, and suddenly feels…damnit.
He imagines, for a just a moment, what it would be like to climb those stairs himself, to open a girl like Fay’s door while she’s getting ready for bed, taking off her earrings and turning to stare at him with those wide blue eyes.
What it would be like to take two steps forward and grab her, pull her to him, make her gasp as he wrapped a hand in the hair at the base of her scalp and pulled her head back, exposing that long white neck.
To feel the moan echoing inside her chest, pressed against him, as he ground his hips against hers, the proud length of his cock pressed between them.
He could show her, then, what it was to be a good wife. To become subservient, to learn how to anticipate his needs, to make her will his own.
He could make a girl like Fay willingly give up her independence, serve him happily, if it meant that every night she could peel off his shirt, pull his hot skin against her, take him, throbbing, inside of her –
Kent snaps his head to the side, pressing his eyes closed, forcing himself – forcing himself - to stop thinking these thoughts. That was going to be his son’s wife, after all.
But damnit, thinking about her has made him so hard.
Kent reaches for the phone on his desk, picking it up and quickly dialing.
The person on the other end answers in one ring. “Hey baby,” she purrs. “I’ve been missing you.”
“Fiona,” he says, working to keep his voice even. “I’d like to see you at my place. Half an hour.”
She giggles on the other end. “Ohhhh, he’s in a rush. I’ll be there pronto, baby.” Another little giggle and she hangs up.
Kent stares at the phone in the hand knowing, in the pit of him, that Fiona is at best a temporary fix.
He has a deeper hunger growing inside.