by Celia Crown
I giggle at the ticklish feeling of his scruffy jaw scraping on my neck. “Daddy, you have to change too!”
He growls, grunting as he reluctantly lets me go to be welcomed into the walk-in closet. My favorite activity is to watch him get ready; he has his clothes off while standing in his tight boxer briefs, muscles rippling in defined grooves when he pulls on his shirt after he had put his long legs into a pair of pants. The shirt sleeve chokes around his thick biceps and one flex would have the seams bursting.
It’s a sight that I want to see.
Simone suddenly turns his head to me and raises an eyebrow. I get flustered when he catches me watching her when he knows he is a good-looking man that makes my heart go wild. He doesn’t know how much I appreciate his body and the confidence he holds on those broad shoulders.
He doesn’t point out the obvious as he steps away from the closet with his shoes on. I breathe in his scent when I stick my nose to his shirt. Comfort chases away the stress of the meeting that we’re about to have with that woman.
I almost want to tell him to stay home with me. He’s not in his killer suits, but his body is a weapon by itself no matter what he wears, and the black cotton shirt clinging to his frame starts to visually move in my head.
I mentally shake away the tempting idea to run my hands up and down his abs just for the heck of it. This isn't the time for my naughty hands to get their daily touches on his body that is mine; I selfishly declare that Simone is mine.
That woman can go find someone else’s man. She had already taken one of mine, but I realize it now that I didn’t really care about my ex-boyfriend whose name I don’t even want to say.
I should thank her for being the other woman. If she hadn’t brought the cheater out of my ex-boyfriend, then I wouldn’t have opened my eyes to see that the one for me was right in front of me the whole time.
Simone has always been there.
“Remember what I said,” Simone reminds me as he guides me out of the mansion.
His car is waiting for us in the front, and I still wonder if he calls his security guards to put his car there, but then I remember that he treasures his car more than the mansion.
“I remember.” I nod at him, sitting in the leather seat while I snap on the seatbelt.
The car purrs to a start. “Good girl.”
I wiggle in the seat at the praise and smile brightly. I couldn’t contain the pride swelling in my chest. I like making him praise me as it’s my drug to become the best for him.
The ride is silent as we embrace the quietness of the night. It’s not long before we get there with some lights turned on in the company headquarter, and the security guard comes to greet us.
I hold onto Simone’s hand and breathes in deeply as he steers me in the direction of a conference room on the fifteenth floor. The glass windows turned into a two-way glass where we can’t see inside but when we step in, I can see everything outside.
The woman and my ex-boyfriend greet us in the conference room. I shouldn’t be surprised that they are together, and I’m not shocked at all to see this woman had dragged more people in this matter than necessary.
I don’t understand what he’s doing here when I know he and I were long over. I hope he’s not here to bring trouble to Simone when he’s already got a lot on his plate from that woman standing off to the side with her hands on her hips.
Her smile falls, and that tells me that she wasn’t expecting me to come with Simone. Like hell I would let her have the chance to be in the same room as Simone by themselves.
“Well, we have an uninvited guest.” My ex-boyfriend scoffs, glaring at Simone as he steps to me.
I latch my arms tighter around Simone, and he stops advancing towards me. The woman nods at my former boyfriend and it’s as if she’s agreeing with him.
I’m sure they have different people in their minds when he said that, but I don’t care. I let Simone handle the situation to see where it goes and what they want.
“What do you want?” Simone asks, tone flat and dull.
He doesn’t care about them or the fury on the woman’s face before it reverts back to her cunning smile. The man in front of me doesn’t take that tone lightly and snaps at Simone about his manners.
“Your mom ever taught you manners, rich boy?”
Simone is no way in any shape or form a boy. He’s a man through and through, and the other man is a boy given how immature he’s reacting to the smallest provocation.
I lace our fingers together, letting his thick fingers swallow my smaller ones as a sign of possessiveness. Simone waits for the other two people to gather their thoughts while they go stand by each other.
A staring contest starts when the woman directs her sly glance at Simone and my ex-boyfriend looks at me as if I had done the worst thing possible. I don’t understand why he would be looking like that when I know he doesn’t play a part in my life anymore.
Not that he ever had any significance in my heart anyway.
“Let’s not waste time,” the woman says, knocking a tight curl from her shoulder. “Beauty is pain, and I must return home early.”
It would be a pain for her to take off all her makeup before she can go to bed, but what she does at home is not of any concern to me. She continues to flaunt her wealth in subtle jabs to me as she bats her lashes at Simone.
Unaffected by her tactics, Simone impatiently snaps. “Well?”
“What I have here is pictures.” She holds up a yellow sealed package, smirking triumphantly.
The man in front of me is just as confused as Simone and I. He’s the one that brings the curiosity to light while he questions her with a frown. He turns back to me after not getting an answer to his question for the content inside.
“Hey, Aria,” he says; a shiver of disgust travels down my spine when he smiles.
I used to think his smile is carefree and innocent, but I know better now. I’m a fetish to him and I will never let him have the satisfaction of letting people know that a ‘doll-like, petite, uncomplicated’ woman was his girlfriend.
I hate how he describes me as if I’m an object rather than an independent woman with feelings. I don’t think he ever cared what I think when he’s so far up his butt about the praises he would get when someone compliments my appearance.
That man is nasty.
“I know I did something wrong,” he says.
I expect him to beg for forgiveness and spill out how much he regrets doing what he did to me, but he doesn’t. He’s not the type of man to admit his fault and if he does, it’s going to be filled with blame to other factors that aren’t controllable in his life.
He doesn’t take responsibility for his wrongdoing.
“But, it’s her fault.” He points to the woman who rolls her amber eyes. “She came on to me. I didn’t want it.”
The woman cuts in, “Yes, you didn’t. You were moaning so loud that you didn’t want your cock in my cunt.”
I cringe at the visual she forced into my mind. I would prefer if she doesn’t do that again, or I’m going to be sick at the dirty image of what happened between them.
“Here, take a look,” the woman says as she throws the sealed file to Simone.
He breaks the seal and pulls out enlarged photos of us in intimate positions during that fundraiser where I had left the hall and was found by Simone. That time was when we were doing inappropriate things in the abandoned building.
Oh, the blonde-haired woman was her. She planned this. She planned for me to chase after her and executed a plan to take pictures of Simone and I doing wicked things in public.
Simone crushes the pictures in his hand, shoving them down in the folder before my ex-boyfriend comes to see what’s on it. He hisses because he’s being left out in the dark again while all three of us know what’s going on.
“I made backups and stored them offsite.” She smiles, putting her nail on her lip. Some of her lipstick scrapes off into her clear nail.
&nbs
p; “All you have to do is leave her and be with me. I promise I won’t do anything bad. I’ll behave like the good girl that you always wanted, right? She’s your good girl, but I can be better.”
I don’t know how that woman knows it, but Simone isn't affected by the disadvantages in this situation.
He goes to open his mouth and I beat him to the punch. “This is blackmail.”
She sneers, turning her glaring amber eyes to my blue ones. I feel Simone squeeze my hand as if asking me what I’m doing. I was supposed to stay quiet and let him handle the situation, but I have had it with this woman.
“It’s a trade, kid.” When she says that, she pushed up her breasts to discourage me. “I will post the pictures online. Better yet, I’ll give these pictures to the biggest news station and see what kind of mud they will drag you into.”
She stops and whimpers with her hand on her cheek. “Oh, what would the Bianchi name become after such a scandalous affair?”
This woman seems to be a psycho from how easily her emotions can change.
“Every room in this building records every second of the day.” It’s all I say to watch the color drain from her face.
A rumble sounds from Simone’s chest as he looks down at me. I peer up at him to see the amusement in his dark eyes while his lips curl into a small smile that tells me he’s proud that I’m sticking up for myself.
“You don’t!” she screams, stomping her heels on the marble floor.
The clack is sharp, piercing through my eardrums as she swirls her head around to see where the security cameras are. I point to the corner on my left behind me where a small black dot can be seen on the white walls. One would think it’s a flaw in construction and painting job, but Simone doesn’t allow imperfections in his company.
“There are security guards outside, and the police have been called. They will be here at any minute. Then we’ll get a search warrant for your phone to find out where you’re hiding the real source of the photos, then you’ll be put in prison for blackmail.”
Simone had called the police beforehand because he knew that nothing will stop this woman unless she learns her lesson and prison is a scary place for a pampered woman like her.
She’s shaking in either anger or fear, but we never get to find out as a bunch of security guards come in to restrain the frenzied woman and confused ex-boyfriend. Simone never moved one bit nor did he speak on the matter until my ex-boyfriend starts to hyperventilate.
“I didn’t do shit!” he screams, being held down by two burly men in black shirts that had ‘Security’ written at the back.
“You did,” Simone snarls, but he doesn’t move to be closer to him as he stays as a strong pillar of comfort for me.
“You caused harm to Aria. I will put you in maximum prison time for aggravated assault.”
I’m not sure if Simone is talking about the emotional pain for the fact that I got scared of my ex-boyfriend's drunkenness that I fell back to hit my head on Simone’s car.
The men drag the two screaming people out of the conference room and I’m stuck in my position wondering what had just happened. I thought this would be a fight of my life, but it went faster than I had expected and nothing bad had occurred.
“Brave girl,” Simone praises, kissing the top of my head before capturing my lips in a heated kiss. “You don’t need Daddy’s protection.”
“No, I just want to protect Daddy.” I smile against his lips while he growls.
“Then Daddy need to give his sweet girl a reward.”
“Are we finally doing that?” I whisper, eyes wide with a blush.
Simone hasn’t done what I wanted him to do yet. He hasn’t torn my clothes off and given me his big cock as he had promised before, and I don’t think I can hold back my desire to feel him completely anymore.
“Not yet, little girl.” He brings up our laced hands to his lips and kisses my ring finger.
“You have to marry Daddy first.”
I squeal. Happiness explodes in my chest as I struggle to breathe while I throw my arms around his neck. His head tips down to steal another kiss, I meet his heated enthusiasm as I mewl softly.
“Yes, Daddy. I want to marry you!”
Epilogue
Simone
Three Months Later.
The veil lays on the floor of our home, innocent and abandoned. It’s the veil that comes with the wedding dress set that we have made together. Aria had pricked her little finger on a sharp piece of the tiara, but she wants to keep working on it because she wants it to be perfect on our wedding.
Turning down to another hall, I find the gloves that cover her tiny hands. The silk had wrapped around her fingers, protecting her from fully feeling the weight of the diamond ring that seals her fate as my wife.
As if a piece of silk cloth can deter my possessiveness. It can’t. it’s fueled by passion and love, tightly securing it together and scorching whatever doubt she has in her mind that resembles barbwires.
Glancing down on my shoes, a piece of jewelry reflects on the polished surface when I walk past. The path of escape that Aria had run down with her giggles practically staying until I can hear it before it disappears into the night.
Every piece of jewelry is handpicked by me to match her beauty, but I couldn’t find anything that could match the pureness of her heart. I have had to contact multiple high-class jewelers to have them draft up the most expensive and most intricate designs because my sweet girl deserves better than simple, cheap designs for everyday consumers.
Coming across one large lump of fabric, I kneel down to pick it up and see that it is her wedding dress. A grin splits my lips I have the image of her running around our home in a bra and panties with her white heels.
“What a tease,” I muse quietly, stalking down the fall with the dress lying in its original place as I make my way to the bedroom where I just know she would be hiding.
A game of hide-and-seek, cat-and-mouse, predator and prey—the cornered ones are always searching for a way home. Her home is our bedroom where she will be trapped until I say she can leave.
Aria doesn’t know how to play games. She’s leaving a trail of clues for me to follow and find where she’s hiding. She may not be skilled or understand how to hide from me, but my blood is running hot either way.
I’m not looking for a long game. I have been straining against my pants for the entire day. Our wedding was perfect. It started out with her strictly pointing a finger to my chest about wedding traditions, and I couldn’t see her until it’s time to walk down the aisle.
I love her, and I would be willing to do anything for her but asking me to not see her until then was worse than physical torture.
Both sides of our families were present, and I thought it was going to be a struggle to get the approval of her father. I was wrong; it was her mother that I had trouble winning over. She didn’t care that I had money to support her for the rest of our lives, and my mother-in-law certainly didn’t give a shit about the benefits of having Bianchi family as in-laws.
It was a week of intense fighting against my mother-in-law, but she came around eventually and she is the sweetest woman. She was only worried that her baby was being manipulated and groomed by an older man who has no business with her daughter.
I can understand where she comes from as it’s what the media had been portraying me. I’m a predator and she’s a gold-digger, but it’s easily fixed by my Public Relations team.
My mother and father had been smitten with Aria the moment they laid eyes on her. They didn’t need to know her name, ulterior motives, or background to know that she was their beloved adopted daughter right then.
Aria was understandably overwhelmed by the warm affection that my parents gave her, and they don’t even look at me like that when I come back from month-long business meetings to expand my company.
The favoritism is clear, and I don’t blame them for wanting to spoil Aria; it’s what I have been doing too but she does
n’t want it. She doesn’t need me to woo her, but me spending money on her isn't courtship anymore.
I simply enjoy spoiling her rotten. Sweet Aria is sweet inside and out, but I want her to give me a toothache.
My mother had gotten her a yacht in case Aria wants to get away from me because according to my mother, I’m someone people have trouble being in the vicinity with. What she means is that I come off too strong, but that’s just how I am all the time.
I can’t change something that has been developed in childhood. My resting bitch face, as my mother kindly said in more elegant words, is a dominant trait and she prays her grandchildren doesn’t have that.
I’m her son, and she has no qualms about pointing out my flaws that Aria defends with love.
The wedding went without a bump on the road other than my cock nearly splitting my zipper open at the sight of her in all white. The dress we made together is perfect; it molds against her curves with beautiful teasing laces around her back while her blue eyes shine through the cover of her veil.
The tiara on top of her head is of significance; Daddy’s princess and Simone Bianchi’s queen, the most gorgeous, pure little girl.
I remember my vows and the love confession from her pink lips, but that’s about it. I was too mesmerized by her beauty that I didn’t care about anyone else when I seal our marriage with a kiss.
My father wanted to show off this wedding and put the bad rumors to rest, and thus, the whole ceremony was live. Aria was a nervous mess, but she is still the most vibrant girl in the area. I have heard that some commenters believe this is a big publicity stunt, and they can believe whatever they want.
This live ceremony of our beautiful marriage is a message to everyone watching that I never wanted the most eligible bachelor title and to show everyone that Aria Bianchi is mine in more than legal papers.
Any funny ideas will be met with a wall of security guards and the legal system. I will make an example of every single one of those fools who believe they have a chance with my Aria, just like that ex-boyfriend who got prison time for the aggravated assault from video evidence on my car.