Chapter 3
Lionel
H oly shit, the brat’s gorgeous . Immediately, I feel ashamed for even thinking that because just yesterday, I was fucking a random woman and giving it to her good in both holes.
Melody ( or was it Melanie? ) panted, screamed, and wailed before coming so hard that her eyes rolled back in her head, showing the whites.
To be honest, the sight turned me off because it made her look like a zombie.
I know. Sex is strange sometimes, and I should roll with it.
But maybe it was Melody’s bony limbs and sharp knees that made me grimace.
Or maybe no woman has been able to capture my attention ever since Lily moved back in.
I give a silent snort of disgust. I’m secretly obsessed with the brat living under my roof, and it fucking drives me crazy.
But what was I supposed to do when the teen girl showed up on my doorstep?
Refer her to the nearest women’s shelter?
Put her up in a hotel? Her mother, Roberta, would have been mortified because this is no way to treat a young woman in need.
But what Roberta didn’t realize is that her daughter’s developed into a curvy, beautiful woman with a naughty streak that makes me clench my fists while biting my lip.
My body stiffens whenever Lily’s in the room, and as a result, I’ve been avoiding her.
It’s the right thing to do because any relationship between us would be taboo.
I was married to Lily’s mother before she passed, for god’s sake!
Yet, whenever I catch a glimpse of my gorgeous stepdaughter, I can’t help but experience a natural male reaction because Lily’s that tempting with her long brown hair, sassy smile, and curves that go on for days.
Those curves are on display right now, even if Lily’s a mess as she enters the principal’s office.
But somehow her disheveled state makes her appear even more delicious.
Her brown curls spring away from her head in a curly halo, and she’s got an adorable smudge of dirt on her cheek.
But it’s her figure that does me in. Her dress is torn, slipping off one slim shoulder while revealing huge, Double D tits and a narrow waist. The skirt’s a splotch of random paint colors, but it, too, is torn and I get a glimpse of thick ivory thighs, long legs, and sleek, smooth calves.
Goddamn. God definitely broke the mold after he made my stepdaughter because Lily’s fucking ravishing, and my groin is hardening from the mere sight of her curves.
But this woman is jailbait because not only is she off-limits, but she’s bad news too.
I got a call from the school about the brat defacing school property, and at first, I couldn’t believe my ears.
I was in the middle of an important meeting, and yet I had to excuse myself to jump in my sedan and speed to the school asap.
Now, Lily’s going to explain herself ...
even if I have to take her home and smack that bottom red as part of the process.
But right now, she has no idea how dire the situation is. Instead, the pretty brunette flounces into the office and throws herself into a chair before shooting me a smile.
“Hi Daddy,” she purrs. “How are you? I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
The tips of my ears burn because what the fuck? Lily’s never called me “Daddy” in public before and it’s fucking mortifying in front of this liver-spotted man named Curt Pontillo. In fact, I can feel the principal’s gaze turn to me, inquisitive and sharp.
“Thanks Lily,” I manage between gritted teeth. “It’s good to see you too. Now, let’s get down to business.”
The principal clears his throat while spreading his hands out. But before he can speak, my stepdaughter takes the reins.
“What happened is easy enough to explain,” she says in a light tone.
“I decided to try a new artistic medium, which is graffiti. I got tired of the usual paint-on-canvas thing, so I took my work outside. There aren’t many options at St. George High,” she adds with a serious look.
“But I found the shed, which looked dilapidated and unused. I started spattering it with paint, Jackson Pollack-style.”
“Really,” the principal says in a drill voice. “But couldn’t you tell that it was private property?”
Lily shrugs.
“This is a pubic school, so I figured since my stepfather’s tax dollars are going to fund the place, it was okay.”
I cut in, my voice sharp.
“It’s never okay to deface public property, tax dollars or not. I’m surprised you think that, Lily.”
The brunette as the grace to blush.
“Well, now that I think back, maybe it wasn’t the greatest idea.”
“It wasn’t,” I say in a harsh tone. “There’s no excuse for your actions.”
Lily looks chagrined, and her pretty head drops for a moment. But then she takes a deep breath and looks up with sparkly eyes.
“But the shed looks amazing now, doesn’t it? I mean, it’s still a work in progress, but it’s certainly better than it was before my make-over. Now, there’s a little color to the structure, and it hides the peeling paint and rotted wood.”
Principal Pontillo stares.
“But that shed belongs to St. George High School, and you had no right to make any decisions about how it looks, or how any part of the structure should be modified. That kind of thing is left to administration, if not the school board.”
Lily looks mortified again, but then she waves her hand in the air.
“Anyone can see that it was in dire need of a re-do. Besides, it looked deserted! It was abandoned, and the roof was about to cave in.”
Principal Pontillo shakes his head slowly.
“No, Miss Powell. There was a lock on the door. That should have told you that the shed was in use, and that it definitely wasn’t abandoned.”
There’s an awkward pause as the brat struggles for words.
“Yes, maybe in retrospect,” Lily says in a careful tone.
“But I didn’t really notice. I’m dedicated to my craft, you see.
A lock would never bother me, and in fact, could be a valuable addition to my work.
The streaks and smears of paint, which are light-hearted and ebullient, contrast directly with the staid, silver lock, which is a representation of the uncompromising nature of the patriarchy. ”
I practically snort in my chair.
“Really, the lock represents the patriarchy,” I drawl. “Did you just think of that, or is this something that you planned?”
“Obviously, I’m still exploring the nature of my work,” Lily says, her tone serious.
“But don’t take my word for it because art can mean many things to different people.
You don’t have to interpret the lock the same way I do, and in fact, I encourage you to interpret such a mechanism according to your own values and morals.
What does it represent to you, Lionel? I’m all ears. ”
This time, I let out a rude guffaw because this girl is a pro at talking in useless psychobabble. I’m reminded of how Gen Z tends to justify their actions using all sorts of pseudo-scientific terms that actually have no meaning.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Lily says in a straightforward manner. “You think I’m full of bullshit.”
My blue eyes snap to her.
“Now I think you’re getting it.”
Lily’s not put off in the least.
“But see, that’s why artists are misunderstood,” she argues.
“We’re trying to express ourselves, but others see us as misfits and nuisances.
But we’re not! Graffiti is a totally legitimate medium of expression, and there are examples housed in premiere museums. Have you ever heard of Banksy, Lionel?
He’s a famous graffiti artist whose works have gone to auction for millions of dollars. ”
I shoot her a pointed look.
“In fact, I have heard of Banksy because I own one of his works. I bought it last year, at Sotheby’s.”
Lily looks genuinely startled.
“You did?” she stammers. “Which one?”
“It’s a famous one,” I drawl. “It’s called Love is in the Bin .”
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.