
The Governor's Secret
Sakura · Completed · 134.7k Words
Introduction
Abigail Lacoste is a sweet girl who has always fought for a better life. Studying psychology, she never imagined she’d have to transfer to California to finish her degree and begin her internship, moving into her aunt’s house. Abigail thought everything would be perfect—but fate had something else in store for her: an arrogant man who will change her life completely... and the life of the baby growing inside her.
Chapter 1
At thirty-nine, I never imagined myself locked in an office alone, drinking whiskey and smoking a cigarette—even though I’m a powerful man running for a second term as governor of California. My family has always been involved in politics, with a name to uphold and a great fortune to manage. I’ve always lived for business, always expanding the Fantone estate.
I glanced at the photo frame on my desk, remembering the day I won the election—a memorable day when the crowd chanted my name—until that nightmare happened. A shot was fired in the middle of the crowd, and to be honest, I wish it had pierced my chest instead of hers. My wife threw herself in front of me, taking not only my love but also the love of our daughter, Melissa, who was never the same again. Always spoiled and rebellious, she never missed a chance to embarrass me.
I took a deep breath, tapping the ashes of my cigarette into a glass ashtray. My wife hated that habit. She used to say it would ruin my lungs—and hers too. Smiling faintly, I straightened my posture before rising from the chair. I walked slowly to the tall glass window of my office, hands in my pockets, once again feeling guilty for that damned tragedy. If she had stayed at the mansion, I would’ve gone in her place. That bullet was meant for me, not poor Mary.
The voice of my assistant knocking on the door pulled me back to reality. I turned, locking eyes with her, already knowing what this was about—another mess my rebellious daughter had caused.
"What is it this time?" The thirty-five-year-old woman shook her head as she jotted something in her planner. It hadn’t been easy to cover up all of Melissa's scandals.
"She broke into a private club and got caught having sex in the pool."
I took a deep breath, trying not to lose my temper. My daughter was only nineteen. After her mother’s death, she’d become rebellious as a way to punish me. She’d already lost a year of college, and things were only getting worse.
"Where is she now?"
"At the mansion. I had to pay a fortune to keep everyone quiet. If this leaks to the tabloids, it’ll stain your name."
"And what do you want me to do? That girl has no boundaries."
"Cut off all her credit cards, take away her privileges, and force her to study. That girl needs a father who puts his foot down."
I looked at my assistant, running a hand through my hair. Katarina was a remarkable woman. She’d worked with me for years, knew my family well, and had become friends with my daughter.
"Talk to her." I shrugged. "You’ve always been better with words. Melissa will listen to you."
She smiled, walked over, and placed her planner on the desk before facing me. For years we’d worked together, and she had the freedom to say whatever she wanted to my face. In truth, I always said Katarina was my conscience on hard days.
"Órion, you’re that teenager’s father. Since your wife’s death, the girl barely sees you, and when she does, you can’t even hold a two-minute conversation with her." She shook her head in disapproval. "Melissa doesn’t need a friend. She needs her father."
"I’m too busy for a family meeting, and I pay you a fortune to handle my problems."
I stepped to the side, walked around the desk, and sat back down in my chair. I picked up another cigarette and lit it, inhaling the smoke. It was the nicotine I needed to stay calm.
"She’s not just a problem. She’s your daughter, and she needs her father."
"Cut off her credit cards and tell the security guards to keep her inside the mansion. When I have time, I’ll stop by to talk to her," I said, turning my eyes to the papers on my desk. The truth was I wanted to avoid my daughter. I didn’t want to look at her and be reminded of her mother or how she blamed me for her death.
"I can cancel your meetings. Everyone will understand if you take a moment for the only family you have left."
"Katarina, did you hear my orders?" I looked at my assistant. "Now get out of my office and tell everyone I’m not to be disturbed."
"Whatever you say, Governor." She picked up her planner, smiled faintly, walked to the door, and left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I used to be a good husband and father before all of this. I lived for my family, even as a man too busy for most things. But when it all happened, I threw myself into work, staying as far away from Melissa—and all the memories the mansion held—as I could. A complete coward.
I tried my best to focus on the paperwork on my desk, losing track of time. It was late, well past office hours. Unfortunately, it was time to head home and face everything that reminded me of Mary.
"Good evening, sir!" the head of security greeted as soon as he saw me leave the office. His team consisted of exactly twenty guards—ten for me and ten for my daughter. I cared about her safety. The person who had shot her mother was never caught and might still come after us.
"Good evening, Alder," I replied, walking toward the car. I should have gone home, but I needed to clear my head. "Straight to my flat. Call the agency and send a girl to me tonight."
"I’ll take care of it now."
Everyone who worked for me was discreet. The great governor couldn’t be involved in scandals, especially not with call girls. That’s why I only spent a single night with them. Everything was done quietly, through a trusted agency that was paid handsomely to send me its finest women.
As I got into the car, I unlocked my phone and saw messages from my assistant. It was done. My daughter had no credit cards and was locked in the mansion—that cold, lifeless place.
I turned off the phone as soon as we arrived at the tall building. It was a private place where I’d have my casual nights—nothing more than a release, with escorts who did their job well without expecting anything else.
"Take off your clothes," was all I said as I closed the bedroom door. The girl obeyed, without hesitation.
Sex with them was meaningless. Just a man satisfying his urges. No feelings, no skin-on-skin, and certainly no eye contact. Purely physical.
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