Who was this freaky little witch she’d become? She waited for him to slam the door in her face, but dazedly, he stepped aside and gave her room to p...ss through the door.She teetered her way, with as much dignity as she could muster in the pencil skirt that hugged her large thighs, up the two steps, and past him, stopping at the foot of the stairs. He stood there, looking at her, little but with impressive breasts and black, sparking eyes that snapped at him in the yellow lamplight.“Shut the. No windows though.In front of her, behind a big, old-fashioned desk, in a high backed and button tufted chair, sat her father. Oswald Capell.He wasn’t looking at her. His cold blue eyes were fixated on the documents in front of him, carefully shuffling through the papers and occasionally scribbling down short notes. His dark hair was still perfectly slicked back, but he had taken off his jacket and waistcoat and unbuttoned the two top buttons on his white shirt. He didn’t look dangerous in the. More

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