"Ah, he put her in cuffs," Travis says, looking uneasy. He knows exactly who I am and what I'm capable of doing. I may not have dropped a body in twelve years, but the man I was back then isn't dead. I fight every day to keep him at bay. "It was the only way to settle her down. She was trying to escape out of a bedroom window."
I growl a curse, fighting to contain the fury his announcement sends pumping through me. "If she has his cuffs on when we get there, we're going to have a problem," I warn him, stalking toward the limo. He knows the rules. So does Willis. Those rules are the only reason I allow them near Milan and my niece, though for vastly different reasons.
Milan Cooper is mine. I just don't know what the fuck I'm going to do about it. Since she turned eighteen a year ago, I've taken to spending most of my time elsewhere to avoid her. It's easier than dealing with the guilt I feel every time she gets my dick hard. There are a thousand reasons I can't have her. But not a single one of them makes me want her any less.
I'm a bastard for even thinking about the shit I do. When St. Peter tallies up my sins, falling in love with Milan will be at the top of the list. I have no illusions about that. It doesn't change anything either. I keep telling myself I need to let her find someone who deserves her, as if saying it often enough will make it true.
It won't.
I'll burn at the devil's right hand before I let anyone else claim her. I won't utter a single complaint, either. An eternity of torment for a lifetime with Milan? It'll be worth every second.
She desperately needs a daddy…and I'm done pretending it won't be me.
"Let's go," I bark at Travis, sliding into the limo.
"Justice, you asshole!"
A stiletto sails through the air, slamming into the door right beside my head.
"I'll wait out here," Travis mutters.
I grunt in acknowledgment, my eyes already locked on Milan, who is standing in the middle of her bedroom, hands on her wide hips and fire in her eyes. Her tits heave in her blue dress. The thing is far too short and tight for her to be wearing around Van, Everett, and Willis. Every one of her curves is on display. Her blonde hair is pulled back from her face, her cheeks blazing with heat. She's not embarrassed though. Those baby blues damn near fire lightning bolts at me. She's mad as hell. And beautiful enough to drop to me to my knees.
I stare at her like a dying man at salvation, greedily eating up the sight of her. Breathing in that sweet vanilla and cinnamon scent that's uniquely her. It's been two months since I last set eyes on her in person. Every single day felt like hell. But for her sake, I tried.
Milan has no idea how tempting she is or how depraved and desperate I am. I've never wanted a woman to call me daddy before. I never wanted to feed one with my own hand, spank her ass when she misbehaves, or fuck her raw when she's a good girl. It's been years since I last touched a woman. They throw themselves at me everywhere I go. It comes with the territory. Not one of them has ever tempted me the way this little princess does.
The day I met her, she looked up at me and I saw part of myself staring back. She's as broken as I am, as lonely. She's been neglected and ignored for so long; I don't think she even realizes how much it still hurts her. She doesn't let anyone except Ainsley close to her. She doesn't cry. She doesn't complain. She just…survives.
I've been doing the same thing for the last twelve years. Surviving. Living a half-life. Burying myself in work to keep myself alive and forget what I did to deserve death. My soul iced over about the time I found Julian and Marissa's bodies. It turned to permafrost when I found Ainsley hiding in that fucking closet.
It stayed that way until the day I met Milan. Those blue eyes burned right through the ice to the man underneath, made me feel something for the first time in a long time. She saw me, perhaps better than anyone else ever has. And I saw her. Not the fierce little lion, but the lonely little lamb.
She's been pissed at me and running scared ever since. She challenges me because she hates that I see what no one else does, that I know her like no one else does. I terrify her, not my reputation but me.
I want to put her on my lap and hold her more than I want my next breath. But I know damn well, if I tried, she'd set me on fire and watch me burn. She pretends she hates me, but we both know the only thing she hates about me is that she isn't mine. The things she wants from me frighten her. The way she feels about me frustrates her.
She's never had someone to love and protect her, someone to guide her. I make her want those things and being that vulnerable scares the hell out of her. She fights me because it's the only way she knows how to protect herself.
But I'm not the only one who's been fighting a losing battle. She has too.
She's a hell of a lot stronger than I am. I don't know exactly when I fell in love with her. I resisted even thinking about it for a long time. But I gave up fighting the truth a year ago and let my obsession run free. I've just been waiting…for her to cave. For me to snap.
I'm not surprised I'm the one to crack first. Like I said, she's stronger than I am.
I've made a point never to step foot in her bedroom. I didn't need to confirm that her room is cute and girly so I could imagine claiming her in her pretty pink bed. It's too late to stop that particular fantasy now. My dick is pressed tight against my fly, my balls heavy. I want to bend her over her bed and eat her until she's screaming for mercy.
Please, daddy. I'm sorry. I'll be good.