My Bestie's Dad Likes Me Wet-Chapter 43 Snitch?

GRANT POV

"You’ve been looking at the same woman for almost an hour now. It’s unlike you, sir."

The voice cut through my focus, grating and familiar. I turned my head just enough to catch her gaze. What was her name? Sandy? Or was it Sandra? Some sand-related name.

Didn’t matter.

She was average and forgettable. A sub who took what I gave her without complaint, until she got clingy. The kind of woman who thought two whippings and one night in my bed meant she owned a slice of my soul.

And yes, she was the same dumb whore who’d once tried to undermine my Nymph—fuck it,— Nova.

I should’ve brushed her off, but she wasn’t entirely wrong. My eyes had been glued to Nova the entire night. That scandalous gown she wore was so daring it could cause a scandal in this sterile ballroom and it made my blood run hot.

She looked fuckable in a way that had nothing to do with romance or tenderness, just raw appetite. The kind of woman men would burn kingdoms to touch once.

And yet, she wasn’t mine tonight. She stood at Luca Vitellio’s side.

My gut twisted at the sight.

But what if she isn’t a whore?

The intrusive thought came uninvited. I don’t hallucinate. My instincts have been carved out of years of violence and strategy, and they rarely betray me. If my gut was second-guessing itself now, it meant I’d missed something.

What if Nova wanted me, not Luca? What if I’d been wrong the morning I sent her away with harsh words and a refusal to sign her internship letter? What if I’d punished her for a crime she hadn’t committed?

The possibility irritated me more than it relieved me. I don’t like being wrong.

"She’s not even that pretty," Sandy sneered, dragging me back to the present with her tacky nasal tone. "And I’m sure she’s not even skilled in bed."

I tilted my head, slow, deliberate, until my gaze cut into her. "Not everyone is a whore like your mother."

Her lips parted. Shock, wounded pride and maybe even arousal; it was always hard to tell with women like her.

"But you like women with experience," she whispered, too brazen, "and flexibility. Daddy."

"I also like when you keep your mouth shut." I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a lethal softness. "Remind me of your name." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"It’s Sandy, sir. You said you liked my tight mouth and my lack of gag reflex."

"I said that to ten other bitches just like you."

"You told me you loved me during the last whipping session."

And there it was. Clingy and fucking predicable.

"I was probably drunk," I said flatly. "What do you want?"

I kept my eyes on Nova as I spoke. The sharpness of her movements. The way her shoulders tensed when Luca leaned in, his mouth too close to her ear. Every small betrayal of her nerves fed my obsession.

"I want to be one of your subs again, sir," Sandy said, her voice low and hungry.

I sighed. Just another whore trying to claw her way back into my red room. "I’m not lacking subs. I’ll pass."

I shifted to walk away, adjusting my stance so I could continue watching Nova without interruption. I wanted to catch her with Luca, catch her slipping into something intimate, incriminating just so I could prove my gut wrong.

Prove that my cruelty toward her was justified.

"But you’ve been staring at the same woman since you arrived," she pressed, her voice following me like a mosquito’s buzz.

I clenched my jaw. If there weren’t so many witnesses, I’d have wrapped my hand around her throat and squeezed until her eyes rolled back.

"Mind your business," I snapped.

"Sorry, sir."

I wondered how she even got in. Luca was a snake in getting in, but even my secretary wouldn’t throw invitations to nobodies. And yet here she was like a roach crawling across the tablecloth of a banquet.

"I have information you might find interesting, sir."

I froze. Now that... that was different.

I turned, slowly. Snitches can be useful, as long as I’m not the one being snitched on.

"About who," I asked, "and what do you want in exchange?"

Her lips curved in something that was supposed to be seductive but looked desperate.

"About the woman you’ve been staring at. All I want in exchange is access to your bed again. And the office."

I let out a low laugh, sharp as broken glass. "No to both. You’re pushing it."

"Then I might have to keep the information," she said with a shrug that was too casual. "But you’re a smart man. You don’t like leaving gaps in your knowledge."

Cornered. She thought she’d cornered me. I hate that more than I hate betrayal.

"Tell me what you know, and I’ll consider your offer," I said. "The office is a hard no. The red room... negotiable. My bed? Never."

Her eyes lit with false obedience. "Thank you, sir. I promise to be a good sub."

"Spill."

She reached into her cleavage and pulled out a folded scrap of paper, then brushed past me, slipping it into my suit pocket as though she were simply adjusting her dress before rushing to the restroom. To anyone watching, it looked like nothing. But I knew better.

I finished the last swallow of whisky, now warm, and ducked into a shadowed alcove. The paper was damp with sweat, the handwriting scrawny and messy. I unfolded it slowly.

The words wavered on the page, almost nonsensical:

I have dirt on Luca Vitellio that can help you, Daddy. I’ll give details when I’m back where I belong as your Sub.

Clumsy and Cringeworthy and what does she know about Vitellio?

But within the cheap delivery was a core of gold. It matched what my gut had been telling me all night.

Nova might be trapped. But not by me. By Luca.

The question was.. why? Money? No. If Nova wanted money, she could’ve asked me. Her internship allowance sits untouched. I would’ve given her more than she could ever spend.

So what did Luca have?

Did she kill someone?

Did her parents owe him?

Was her family tangled in mafia bloodlines?

I slipped the note back into my pocket, jaw tight. I texted Ivin: Don’t let Sandy leave. Use force if you have to.

The message was sent just as someone slammed into me hard. Or maybe at me. A deliberate collision. At my own event.

"You should watch where you’re going, Granny."

Luca’s voice.

I didn’t flinch. I had bigger things to worry about. I pocketed my phone and kept my gaze elsewhere, or I’d give in to the temptation to break his nose right there.

"Excuse me."

"You’re not excused, dick-sucker. Motherfucking snitch."

The calm in my voice didn’t match the heat in my blood. "What did you just call me?"

"Luca, please, don’t do this," Nova whispered, her voice breaking. My head turned against my will. Tears shone in her eyes. Her breath trembled. And though my rage sparked hotter when I saw her hand resting in his, her fragility cut through it like glass.

"Shut up, bitch," Luca roared at her, and she flinched like he’d raised a fist.

"That’s no way to talk to a woman," I said, my restraint finally cracking.

"Woman?" Luca barked a laugh. "Oh, you mean your daughter’s best friend that you fuck on the steady?"

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Phones lifted and screens glowed as people started recording and this could spiral out of control in seconds.

I forced a smile I didn’t feel. "You must be mistaken. I’ve never met this young woman before today. Be careful with your words. Women are the source of every man’s life."

Then I turned and walked, steady and composed, to the restroom. My hands didn’t shake until the water hit them.

Slow, mocking applause clapped behind me. In the mirror, Luca’s smirk reflected back.

"Nice game, Granny."

"You sound like a broken record, Vitellio. Take your L and fuck off."

"The only one going low is you. Being a snitch never ends well, and you won’t break the record."

"Snitch?" I barked a humorless laugh. "I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about."

"You don’t want to know? After you ruined me for years?"

"No, you ruined yourself, Luca. By trying to destroy my companies. My efforts. For what?"

"For the truth. Because you’re a mole."

"Hell no. Talk to your men. Do your research. And while you’re at it? Leave Nova out of this."

"Or what?" He leaned in, grinning. "What happens if I don’t?"

"You don’t want to know."

"Oh, but I do. What’s the worst you can do, old man?"

"Maybe I’ll tell the Bratva. Let your fiancée’s family know you prefer college girls."

His fist connected with my jaw before the words had even cooled in the air. I staggered half a step, then snapped back with two punches of my own, drawing blood from his nose and lips.

"Oh, let’s do this," he growled.

"I have all day."

Luca’s punch barely stung, but the audacity lit fire in my veins. My second punch split his lip wider, and crimson smeared down his chin like war paint.

The restroom echoed with the wet thuds of fists against flesh, grunts bouncing off marble walls. A mirror cracked when he shoved me back, and my shoulder hit porcelain hard enough to rattle the sinks.

"Still hiding behind lies, Granny?" he spat, wiping blood with the back of his hand. "That’s all you’ve ever been; a snitch in a tailored suit."

My laugh came out low and humorless. "Funny, coming from a man who hides behind his family name like a spoiled brat."

He lunged again. I caught his wrist, twisted, forcing him down toward the counter. His knuckles scraped tile, and he hissed in pain. For a moment, I had the upper hand. My instincts screamed to end it here, crush his throat, rid myself of him once and for all.

But killing Luca Vitellio in my own hotel restroom? That would be suicide.

He slammed his forehead into mine. Pain exploded behind my eyes. I staggered back, tasting iron.

"Pathetic," he sneered, straightening his jacket though blood stained the collar.

"Pathetic that a man your age is crawling after a girl half his years. You’ve already lost, and you don’t even see it."

I lunged, slamming him against the stall door so hard it rattled on its hinges. My fist connected with his ribs.

Once.

Twice.

The hollow crack of bone made me grin through bloodied teeth.

"You should worry less about my losses," I whispered into his ear, "and more about whether your fiancée finds out what you’ve been doing with your college toys."

His eyes darkened, fury and something sharper glinting there. He reached into his jacket pocket, and instinct took over as I gripped his wrist, pinning it to the stall. The metallic clink of something small dropping to the tile made my pulse spike.

A flash drive.

We both froze.

The tiny object sat between us on the pristine floor, more dangerous than any blade. Whatever was on it, Luca hadn’t intended me to see. His face gave him away, absolute panic behind his bravado.

"Pick it up," I growled.

His smirk returned, but it was thinner now, stretched over the edge of fear. "Go on, Granny. Touch it. You’ll wish you hadn’t."

The restroom door burst open.

"Grant?"

Nova’s voice was breathless and scared as if she had been sprinting.

Her wide eyes took in the scene; the blood, the cracked mirror, the two of us standing over the flash drive like it was a landmine.

For the first time that night, Luca and I both went perfectly still.

Her gaze darted between us, confusion etched into every line of her face. Then her eyes landed on the flash drive.

And she whispered, barely audible:

"Oh God... how did you get that?"