Tyrant Daddy: An Age Gap Forbidden Romance

by Isabella Starling

  But I have to do it to protect her from the truth.

  Chapter 19

  Willa

  My world has imploded. Everything I thought was real has been smashed into pieces, and I'm left picking up the shards lying at my feet alone.

  Raphael is gone. The only man I've ever wanted has left me broken.

  I barely acknowledge my surroundings on the way home from Raphael's office. By the time I walk into our house, I feel completely numb.

  "Hey, Mercy came looking for you," Nox tells me when we cross paths in the hallway. "Woah, are you okay, Wills?"

  "What?" I snap. "Yeah, I'm fine."

  "Okay." He gives me a doubtful look before growling, "This better had nothing to do with that prick Santino, or I'll gouge his eyes out and –"

  "Oh my God, knock it off, Nox." I run my hands through my hair, feeling frustrated. "Just lay off me for one second."

  "Jesus, fine." He raises his hands in defeat. "Mercy says to call her."

  "Why?"

  "Because she's your best? Christ, I don't know, kid. You having one of your fights again?"

  I'm faced with a decision and my heart and head disagree with which option to pick.

  I could tell Nox everything right now, pour out my heart and let him help me out of this mess I've created like he's always wanted to.

  Or I could keep it to myself like I always do. Let it fester and rot until it poisons me from the inside.

  "Everything is fine," I mutter with a tight smile. "I need to go, sorry."

  I push past him on the stairs, ignoring it when he calls out my name. All I can think about are the lies Dove and he told us about Nox's past, about the reason he went to prison. I can never trust them again.

  Once the door of my bedroom is safely locked behind me, I finally let the tears fall. They burn against my cheeks but I don't make a sound, I just lie on the bed and stare up at the ceiling while the war rages on in my heart.

  Time passes and it feels like I'm being torn apart. Frozen, unable to do anything about my imminent death but lie there and take it. Horrible memories flow through me and a sort of paralysis takes over, rendering me unable to cry for help.

  Once I can finally breathe again, I pick up my phone with trembling fingers and delete all of Raphael's contacts, breaking my own heart again. Once I'm done, I set the phone down and carefully reach for a pair of scissors on my desk.

  I treat them with care, careful not to hurt myself, which is ironic, given what I want to do.

  I remember the first and only time I hurt myself like that and how deeply I'd cut. I was only twelve, and when Dove found me, she cried for hours. I couldn't bring myself to do that to her again, no matter how badly some things hurt.

  But now, I don't want to cut into my skin to feel pain.

  I want to feel oblivion, I want this to end.

  Just as I dig the tip of the scissors into my skin, my phone pings with a text.

  The scissors fall and I take deep, ragged breaths, realizing how close I was to something I swore I'd never do again.

  I check my phone, finding a text from Mercy.

  Call me when you can?

  With trembling fingers, I hit call. She picks up within seconds.

  "Hey, Wills."

  "Hey." I swallow thickly, but the lump in my throat remains. "Mercy, I..."

  "What?" I don't answer even though I can hear the worry in her voice as she goes on. "Is everything okay?"

  "I wanted to hurt myself," I blurt. "Right before you called."

  "No, Wills." Her voice breaks. "You promised you wouldn't. What happened?"

  "I just gave up," I whisper. "If I hadn't gotten your text..."

  "Wills, you can't keep going like this."

  "I know, I just –"

  "Can't you talk to Raphael about it?"

  I hold my breath, his name like a punch to the gut. "I... I think we're done for good."

  "Fuck, Wills. You sure?"

  My silence answers for me, and after a pause I whimper, "I just want to leave, Mercy."

  "Then leave." She hesitates, then blurts out her speech. "Look, I think Scott's in with some bad people."

  "What people?"

  "Some people he might owe money to," she bites out.

  "What? Fuck, Mercy!" I cover my mouth with my palm. "Did they hurt you?"

  "No, but they might try." I can feel her shame through the phone. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you. I should've believed you about him. What I mean is... we should leave. Together. This place is bad for us."

  Silently, I agree with her. "Where would we stay?"

  "Doesn't Nox have family in New York?"

  "Yeah," I mutter. "But they don't ever talk."

  "So? You know how weird he is about his family, I bet they're eager to connect. And you could find out more about Nox, too," she says. "In fact, I looked them up. They're kind of famous, you know."

  "You did what? You looked up Nox's brother?"

  "Kade," she says. "And his wife, June. They have three kids."

  "I can't believe you stalked Nox."

  "Let's just say I saw something like this coming. They've lied to you for a long time, Wills."

  "About what?" I knit my brows together. "Nox killing someone?"

  Mercy pauses on the other end. "Do you know who he killed, Willa?"

  "Probably someone bad. I'm pretty sure he thinks he's some vigilante superhero with a name like Nox," I mutter.

  "Wills... He killed Dove's brother."

  My hand shakes. "Robin died in a shoot-out."

  "Yeah, he did." She pauses meaningfully. "See what I mean?"

  My heart beats into overdrive and I panic. Could this possibly be the truth?

  "Look, we can get plane tickets for tonight," Mercy rushes on. "I stole some money from Scott."

  "You did what?" I groan. "He'll kill you, Mercy!"

  "We're leaving," she insists. "It doesn't matter, because I'll be long gone by the time he finds out. The only reason I haven't brought it up is because you were happy with Raphael. Are you sure it's over?"

  "He doesn't want me," I whisper.

  "Then we're leaving," Mercy says resolutely. "Meet me at the airport tonight. I'll deposit the money and buy our tickets. Bring as little as you can."

  "What about Dove and Nox?"

  "Do you want them to know where you're going?"

  "No," I admit.

  "Then leave now. They don't know about Parsons. Please, Willa. Come with me."

  I find myself nodding along with her words. This is what I need. To pursue my dream, to follow my talents and study where I've always wanted to. I've saved up enough – I can pay for myself and Mercy, at least until we both find jobs. I got into Parsons on a scholarship and I think I can just about cover living expenses.

  "Okay," I finally say. "Let's leave tonight."

  "That's my girl," Mercy laughs. "I'll text you where to meet me. Don't tell anyone."

  The call ends and I stare at the phone in my hand. What the hell have I just agreed to?

  1 week later

  "Try this one." Mercy pushes my phone back into my hands. "It says it's the personal line of Theo Wildfox-Miller."

  "Is that their oldest son?" I scribble down his name on a Post-it.

  "Yeah. Tell him you want to meet."

  Nervously, I call the number while Mercy expectantly watches me from across the tiny table we eat at.

  We've been staying in a motel for a week, but we need to find a different place soon. I was against calling in favors from Nox's family, but Mercy talked me into it, telling me it would be good for me to have some closure.

  "Hello?"

  The voice on the other end of the line is harsh, deep and filled with anger.

  "Um, hi."

  "Who is this?"

  He's clearly hostile, but Mercy's pleading look makes me launch into an explanation, hoping he doesn't end the call.

  "You don't know me – probably. Maybe? I don't know. I'm Willa. I'm... your
cousin, I think?"

  "What the fuck?" he growls next. "Are you drunk?"

  "No," I hiss, rolling my eyes and shushing Mercy as she whispers how’s it going. "I'm Nox's daughter."

  "Whose?"

  "Are you Theo Miller?" I ask, losing my patience.

  "Theo Wildfox-Miller, yes."

  "Well, I'm Willa. Willa Canterbury-Miller."

  A long silence follows before he finally mutters, "Well, fuck. Can you meet me? Where are you?"

  "I'm here in New York," I manage to get out, surprised by his eagerness to see me. "And yes, I can meet you."

  "Text me your address, I'll send a car."

  "Okay."

  He hesitates before adding, "I hope you don't scare easily."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Before I can get a reply, the line goes dead. Frustrated, I stare at my phone before shrugging in Mercy's direction.

  "Guess he's sending a car."

  "Can I come with you?"

  "Better not, Mercy," I mutter. "You have to watch our stuff."

  My laptop has already been stolen in this crappy motel, and I don't want to risk losing more stuff. Mercy nods and sits by the TV. Its sound is the only thing that blocks out the shit that goes on in this place.

  I say my goodbyes and run downstairs to find a black car with a chauffeur waiting for me. He opens the door, as if he knows who I am, and I spend the rest of the ride in awe before finally pulling up in front of a brownstone building.

  "Right through to the garden, miss," the driver nods at me. "Good luck."

  I glance at the house suspiciously. This feels like something out of a book, and I'm getting scared of who Theo really is. But then I remember the alternative to leaving – going back home with my tail between my legs, never seeing Raphael or worse, running into him with someone else. I set my shoulders back and resolutely walk into the house.

  I follow the open doors to the garden where a man is sitting with his back to me.

  "Willa?" he asks in the same deep, rumbling voice.

  "That's me."

  "Come here."

  I step in front of him and fight my shock at seeing his face. But Theo doesn't let me look away, his eyes taunting me as I take in his scarred face with one dark brown eye and one milky white, almost silver.

  "Are you surprised?" he asks calmly, and I decide to go the honest route, nodding. "But not afraid, I take it."

  "I've met scarier men than you." I point to a chair in front of him. "Do you mind?"

  "Go ahead." He watches with amusement as I take a seat. "I've wanted to meet one of you for a long time."

  "One of us?"

  "I knew Parker... Nox had a family, but I didn't know who with."

  "Is Parker his real name?"

  "You didn't know?" I shake my head and he smiles solemnly. "Seems I'm not the only one who's being lied to."

  "Your dad is Nox's brother, right?"

  "Indeed. And you're adopted?" I nod, making him grin. "Thought so, the timelines didn't quite add up."

  "Why did you want to meet me so soon?"

  "I want information," he mutters. "And I assume you want something too, and this isn't purely an attempt at a familial reconciliation?"

  I swallow. "I... My friend and I need a place to stay in New York."

  "Should be easy enough," he shrugs, making me pale with surprise. How freaking rich is this guy?

  "You look just like Nox, you know," I mutter.

  "I look like my father."

  "They must look alike. What information do you want?"

  "Anything about Nox you can tell me. I need to keep my father and Nox separated."

  I knit my brows together. "Why?"

  "Because they'll kill each other if someone doesn't keep them apart."

  Chapter 20

  Raphael

  Staying away from trouble has been fucking torture.

  Every waking thought I have is about Willa. I can't get her off my mind despite doing everything in my power to distract myself. I've been working myself ragged trying to busy myself with mundane tasks just so I don't have to listen to my own voice telling me I've fucked up in my head.

  I've been staying late in the office and using my bachelor pad more and more. Elise has moved back into my apartment and I can't bear to be near her. When she made a move on me the first night she moved in, I was clear with her – there wasn't going to be any physical action between us, not now, not ever.

  It still feels like a betrayal to Willa, but I don't know what else to do. I owe Elise and our baby what my father never gave me, and as much as I want to fucking walk away from the whole thing and track down Willa, I know I shouldn't.

  It's another late night in the office. I've tried so hard not to look up Willa, but today I'm finding it harder than ever to resist. My jaw tightens as I try and pull up her profile on Instagram, but am notified the profile's been deleted.

  Fuck.

  How am I supposed to keep tabs on her now?

  I need to know how she's doing, need to make sure she's okay.

  Hoping for the best and knowing I shouldn't be doing this, I open the sugar baby app, and quickly realize she's blocked me.

  "Fuck," I mutter, setting my phone down and pouring myself a double drink. I fucking need it now that my life has imploded.

  Every day, I find myself regretting everything that's happened – everything but Willa. I can't bring myself to do that, not when the weeks I spent with her were the happiest of my life. And this bittersweet feeling hurts, but it was still worth it just to hold her in my arms for as long as I did.

  After pacing the office, I pick my phone back up again and delete my own profile on the sugar baby app. Then, I quickly make another one, giving myself the nickname of TyrantDaddy.

  My heart quickens, hammering in my chest. I remind myself I shouldn't get involved with Willa – I should keep my distance and stay away from her, so I don't hurt her even more. And yet I can't help but set up the new profile and send her a friend request.

  The request is quickly accepted, sending another pang of pain through my body. I can just imagine Willa on her phone right now, scrolling through her notifications, not even knowing this is me. I suppose that means she's back to this sugar baby thing. I wonder if she's going to New York. I wonder what's happening in her life and how much she misses me.

  With a groan, I run my hands through my hair. I shouldn't be letting myself think about all this stuff. I need to put Willa behind me and stop hurting her.

  But if she's in New York, she'll need money. I know how proud she is – she'd never ask Dove and Nox for help.

  Hesitating for only a moment, I send an offer to her profile on the website. Five selfies of her for a thousand dollars.

  My heart beats into overdrive. I shouldn't be fucking doing this, I'm only prolonging the pain that's already tearing me apart. But I can't stay away. And I tell myself as long as Willa doesn't realize I'm TyrantDaddy, everything is going to be fine. I choose to believe that lie.

  The prospect of being close to her again, finding out what's going on in her life without being myself, is exciting. I miss her so much it fucking hurts, tossing and turning for hours at night wishing her warm body was wrapped around mine. I sacrificed my happiness and Willa's, too, for a kid I never wanted. Perhaps this is my punishment, a load of bad karma, for all the shitty things I've done in my lifetime.

  My phone pings and I check it, realizing she's accepted the offer and already sent the first photo.

  It wracks me with jealousy. Is she doing this with other people? Is she sending them photos, meeting up with them, doing things for them?

  My hands form fists and I curse out loud. The thought of Willa with somebody else is painful as fuck. I force myself to push it to the back of my mind and focus on the selfie she's sent instead.

  She's posing in front of a window, a billowy white curtain covering half her face. She's wearing a tank top showing off her collarbone that's jutting out an
d making me want to kiss it. Her eyes are trained on the camera with a shy, but knowing smile on her lips. My heart tightens. I haven't seen this photo before, and it fucking hurts to know I'm excluded from everything now, by my own choice – or because I didn't really have one.

  I fight with my own conscience, knowing I shouldn't be contacting her but unable to resist. I fire off a single word as a reply to the photo.

  Pretty.

  Another photo lands in my inbox the next second. In this one, she's wearing a bandeau top and throwing a peace sign at the camera with her tongue sticking out of her mouth. She's standing in front of a brownstone building, her long, flowing blonde hair thrown over one shoulder, being ruffled by the rain.

  She looks happy, and that hurts more than anything else. As happy as I am for her, it messes me up to know she's moved on. Judging by the background of the photo, I'm guessing she did go to New York after all. I wonder what she's doing there. Whether she's excited to attend Parsons. Whether she misses me. Whether she's already met someone new, someone else she calls Daddy.

  The thought is too painful so I banish it from my mind. Instead I send another reply.

  Show me more.

  She doesn't reply, but a couple of minutes later I get another selfie. It's cut off above her mouth. She's holding her bottom lip down, and on the inside of her lip, the world trouble is written in black ink.

  "Fucking hell." I palm the growing erection in my pants. Is it a tattoo or just something scribbled on with a marker? Either way, I'm a goner just looking at the image, because it tells me she's still thinking about me.

  I want to get off so badly, but I remember I'm not even supposed to be speaking to Willa let alone getting off to her photos. But when the next one arrives, I can't resist anymore.

  The fourth selfie has Willa topless, barely covering her tits, a glimpse of those pink nipples between her outstretched fingers leaving me speechless. I pull my cock out and jerk it slowly, prolonging the painful moment of having a release I shouldn't give myself.

  This was a bad idea from the start. I never should have contacted her. I should have moved on with my life like she clearly has. But it seems impossible to forget Willa. She lives in my brain rent-free, claiming every waking second I have, reminding me just how fucked up my life is.