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Word count: 2069
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Monica opened the door of her condo she'd purchased recently and locked it behind her, sauntering in with her hand bag hanging lazily on her lower arm as exhaustion wore down on her.
It was a cozy place, not too big but really spacious and comfortable enough for her and her daughter. The two rooms belonged to her and Stephanie though her daughter usually slept with her sometimes. The third and fourth room was where she kept all the books she had used in her college days— which had once been with her brother — along with other random things.
The sitting room was nice and well furnished with normal home electronic equipments for entertainment.
Television, home theatres and decoder with wires connected expertly for everything to work accordingly were set up nicely on the left corner of the apartment. The cream and brown wall painting matched the color of the cushions and deep brown mahogany table where a nice flower vase was seated.
Heaving a sigh, Monica went straight into her room with one button out in her tee-shirt and fell face flat on her bed.
Taking fast breaths in due to how worn out she currently felt, she used the restroom and struggled to push away the excitement that was still tingling between her thighs after the power rocking orgasm she had been given at the office.
Remembering the incident alone made a sly smirk made its way up her lips.
Sucre had thought he had the upper hand because he made her come with two digits inside her but she was set to prove him wrong at all times, just as she had done when he asked her to come back to him and how she had told him off.
She concluded that he was still as cocky as she remembered him to be; being that he was anything but pleased with her response and he didn't fail to hide it.
The expression on his face had been priceless though he'd still helped her put her clothes back in place properly. One thing Sucre didn't appreciate was other people knowing of his affairs with his woman, especially when he knew men in Petsmoni Company were eyeing her. He was the secretive kind of person and if he didn't want someone know something, they wouldn't.
Sucre had already made up his mind that from now on, he would keep his slowly building relationship with Monica a secret from the world. The media had contributed in spoiling things between them before and he couldn't afford to allow that happen again.
Taking a quick shower, Monica changed into yoga pants and a free top. She loosened the band on her hair and fixed it in a lazy bun, appreciating her breasts in the mirror.
Monica didn't know what group she could classify herself in but she was one of those women who actually derived a sense of confidence and serenity while staring at their breasts in the mirror and appreciating it regularly. She sometimes went to yoga class when she was less busy with office work because she wanted to make sure her breasts and body stood in shape.
They were in a nice shape and stood erect in wherever she wore, just the way she liked it. She was one of the DD cups ladies and Monica was extremely proud of it.
She was five foot five and proud of her height, knowing her killer hips and hourglass figure did things to men wherever she went.
Her cell phone blared to life and startled her for a moment, making her giggle at her ridiculousness. Walking to the bed, she fished the device out of her bag.
It was Stephanie's teacher. "Hello Mrs. Adelaide, how are you doing and may I know why you are calling?"
"Hello Mrs O'Brien, I am doing great, thanks for asking. There is something important I would like to let you know." The woman's screechy voice went straight to the point without as much as a greeting and Monica didn't mind.
"What is it Miss Adelaide?"
"Yes well, a man is here to see your daughter." Monica felt her heart palpitate.
"What?" She sat up quickly on the bed, her heart racing as the information processed. "Who is he? What does he look like?"
"He said he is her father and has been here since break. She is still playing with him right now in her class. I just wanted to inform you in case..."
No. It couldn't be who she thought it was because he had no business whatsoever with Stephanie.
He couldn't be the one who went to the school to see her daughter— she didn't remember telling him anything about herself or about Stephanie.
"What is his name?" She asked and released a shaky breath.
"He said he is Sucre Ambrosia and he sure looks like the famous one we all know." The teacher added for effect.
Monica's world stilled the instance the name was mentioned. It was him, he knew about his daughter. He knew he had a daughter but Monica would never let him anywhere near her.
"Oh my God." she gasped when she found her breath.
"Is everything alright? I could call the security and have them attend to him if you don't want him-"
"No it's alright. I'm coming over." Monica was already searching for her sandals.
"There is no need, we will bring her soon. The man is already approaching m- hello?" The voice she knew all too well said, breeze blowing past the speaker on the other end as the phone was passed over.
Boiling, Monica felt her head blow up with anger.
"Sucre, you bastard! What do you want with my daughter?" She gritted through clenched teeth, ran her free hand over her bun which was now getting messy on top of her head.
"You meant our daughter?" He spoke calmly, in a collected tone, like they were best buddies and talking about golf over drinks.
"She is not your daughter." Monica stated in a strained voice.
"Are you sure about that? Baby, talk to mommy," there was silence before Stephanie's voice came on. "Mommy? Daddy is taking me to the park...I like daddy so much. He bought me a dolly. Should I follow daddy to the park, mommy? He is my daddy. Daddy promised me he'll live with us for a long time. Now I can tell Brianne I also have a daddy and pull her pigtails if she says stupid stuff." Stephanie rambled on excitedly.
Monica's heart dropped to the pit of her belly. The father daughter duo had formed a connection. She felt several knots and bile rose up in her altogether.
"My baby- hello? Stephanie? Leave her alone, Sucre."
"You wound me, Monica. I would never harm my own daughter, regardless of whatever you think of me. I'm only here to see her, to meet her officially. You can't keep us away from each other anymore, Monica."
"You can face me if you want a fight but I swea-" she heard the beep sound and the backlight on her phone confirmed that he had indeed ended the call.
She stared at the phone in shock, feeling her hands go cold as dread washed over her. He hung up!
Frantically, she searched for her house keys, the exhaustion from earlier immediately draining out of her. She didn't want her daughter near the man that had almost ruined her life and she never wanted to have anything to do with him again.
Monica felt nausea roll through her and her stomach did summersaults when the image of how he plunged his digit into her wet core flashed before her eyes. She had been asked to retire three hours earlier than the usual time because Mr. Sullivan felt it would be nice for her to get the remaining hours off and go home to rest. Shaking the thought off, Monica locked the house door and made a dash for her car, only stopping when the gate opened and a black SUV drove in.
Her brows furrowed in confusion because there was no way someone could access the compound gates without her permission. No one had the key to the automatic gate apart from her because the neighbor that stayed in the apartment behind moved out about six months ago. She stayed alone with her daughter.
The car door opened and a man in black alighted and walked towards her, his hands adjusting something on his side. When Monica's eyes flitted towards to the spot he'd just touched, she the breath was knocked out of her and her head began to feel fuzzy. The black shiny object strapped around his waist was a gun.
"Who are you?" She gasped, not waiting for him to get to her before she opened her car door and shut it.
She locked it quickly, the rational thought that the man could shoot the cars window registering but she knew she had to try her best to protect herself from the armed stranger. The man knocked on the door with a smile. She felt her limbs trembled and held her head in her shaky hands, thinking about her daughter. This was it. The man was going to kill her.
She began to shake terribly and was startled when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She hurriedly pulled it out without checking the ID.
"My Moni." The husky voice spoke. Monica had never felt so much urge to strangle anyone like she did when she heard Sucre's voice
She gritted her teeth and flared her nose. "Is this your doing, Sucre? Did you send them to kill me?"
"Sometimes, I wonder what I must've done that makes you think the worst of me at any chance you get. Open the door and hear what he has to say, Monica. I sent him over." He stated with no hint of playfulness in his tone.
"You bastard! Just leave us alone!" She shirked. The steering wheel bore the brunt of the anger boiling in her which she took out with a slam of her soft fist.
"Do you trust me?"
"Never in a million years." Monica quickly yelled.
"For the sake of our daughter and your wellbeing, open the door and listen to him."
Monica let out a low groan, suddenly feeling exhausted with all the switch in her emotions. It had been an exhausting day.
Sighing, she looked up at the man standing outside. If he'd wanted to kill her, he would have easily shot at the car. Maybe she should just do as Sucre said because the armed man was still rooted in his spot anyway.
Still on the call, she opened the door. The man offered her a smile and stepped away so she could alight. With shaky legs and hand planted on her ear, she nodded at the man.
"Hello. I'm Shane and I was sent by-"
"I know." She muttered. She couldn't wait for him to leave.
Sucre chuckled on the other end. "You said you didn't trust me but you still haven't hung up. He won't eat you, you know?"
"Shut up. How did you gain access into my condo? Have you been stalking me?" She growled while the man before her watched in amusement.
He was a head taller and had a really thin teddy which brought out the oval shape of his face. A small mustache carpeted the space over his nude lips and as he smiled, his honey brown eyes twinkled in the sun.
"I never stopped stalking you. I have only managed to forgive you for leaving me and I won't allow that happen again. The man will bring you to me, so don't argue with him and just get into the car. I don't want you stressing yourself because I know how stressful the day was. I'll see you in thirty minutes."
Then the line went dead, and so did Monica's courage.
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