Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Romero nods, and thankfully, we’ve finished talking because the door to my office flies open. There is one person in this world, only one, with the balls to barge in on me unannounced, and that would be my daughter. Tatum saunters into the room, a leather tote bag slung over one arm, her phone in the other hand. She’s beautiful, courageous, and sassy. The one and only perfection in my life. She tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder and scowls at the sight of Romero sitting across from me.
Sneering, she directs her words at Romero. “I need a minute with my father.”
He remains in place, an unmovable boulder, as he gestures a hand for her to continue. “By all means. Speak.”
A heavy sigh escapes her, and she folds her arms across her chest, a flash of impatience in her eyes. “Alone. Without you in the room.”
Romero remains sitting, and I can feel the tension between them. Their interactions are strange enough, but I don’t have the time to look deeper into it. Knowing Tatum, she’s tired of dealing with Romero’s shit. He’s been her bodyguard since she was a teen.
Shooting him a look, I murmur, “Give us a minute.”
He makes a point of glaring at her as he stands, buttoning his jacket once again. It’s like he wants to make sure she knows he’s leaving because I told him to and not because she did.
“What’s going on? Why are you still here? I thought you would be on your way to the airport by now.”
“That’s the nice thing about flying privately. The plane can’t leave without you.”
She knows I don’t appreciate her flippancy when it comes to the ease my wealth has awarded her, and I growl my disapproval.
“But seriously, there was one more thing I had to do before I left.” She plops a ring of keys down on the desk. “My house set.”
I lift a curious eyebrow. “Do you plan on staying in France? Isn’t this something we should have discussed before now?”
She treats me to a patented eye roll before explaining. “They’re for Bianca.”
If only my cock wouldn’t twitch at the mere mention of her name. Not in front of my daughter, for fuck’s sake. Good thing I’m seated, or else I might have some explaining to do. “Why would she need them?”
“Please don’t get on my case,” she begins, which does not bode well. “But I may have forgotten to talk to you. She broke up with Lucas a couple of nights ago and needs a place to stay. I told her since my wing of the house would be empty, she was more than welcome to stay here. At first, I tried to convince her to come with me, but she refused. Something about responsibilities and being an adult. You know as well as I do she won’t be any trouble. I’m sure you won’t even know she’s around.”
What a charming, naive thing to say. I suppose that’s a good thing, really. Tatum is entirely oblivious to my dark, sinful fantasies. And it’ll stay that way.
Unfortunately, I find myself in a catch-22 situation. I can’t refuse, and not only because she’s springing this on me at the last minute. It would be cruel to turn Bianca down when, for all I know, she could be on her way here as we speak. And there is no way for me to explain to Tatum what a bad idea this might be without admitting to things I would prefer she never finds out. First on the list: that night on the patio, less than a week ago.
“You know I hate it when you spring things on me.” I narrow my gaze. “I don’t like being put on the spot.” It’d be smarter to cut my hands off to prevent the inevitable. I know what will happen if I allow Bianca to stay here. With Tatum gone, there’s nothing to stop me. I’ll have to invite a parade of women to the house to satisfy my cravings and keep myself from kicking down Bianca’s door. If I can restrain myself from claiming her in the first place.
“Dad, it’s Bianca. She’s family. And what else was she supposed to do? Move back home? You know her dad is overbearing and controlling. It would never work out. She’s not a bird that needs to be caged; she’s a phoenix that needs to fly.”
But she does need to be caged. Inside my arms. In my bed. With my cock jammed so far inside her, there is no way to tell where I start and she ends.
Tatum crosses her arms over her chest, a small pout on her lips. “Besides, I feel like hell leaving her at a time like this. It’s not what friends do. I’ll never have a good time knowing that she’s here suffering, worrying if Lucas is trying something with her.”