Craving Mr Redd

Kyla felt her world crumble after losing her father two weeks ago.

The thought of never seeing the only person who understood her more than anyone else was a nightmare. She’d never get to hear him call her little pumpkin. Never get to feel his lips pressed against her cheek.

Throughout the week, she refused to step out, barely ate, and barely said a word to anyone.

A gentle knock sounded behind her door.

“Go away, Vivian. I do not want breakfast,” Kyla mumbled under the sheet.

Vivian, the housekeeper, cleared her throat. “Someone is here to see you.”

“Don’t try to trick me out.”

“This is important, miss Harper. The guest is waiting.”

Kyla shut her eyes with a sigh. She wouldn’t get out of this bed. Every morning she opened her eyes, the world didn’t feel the same. Stepping out was worse, as every inch of the mansion held memories of her father.

“Let me handle this,” another voice said, deeper than the maid’s.

“Kyla. This is a friend of your father. Please, step out for a moment.”

Kyla blinked. A friend of her father?

Her father only had a few trusted business clients with whom he maintained good relationships. He’d told her about each one, but none of them had ever came here.

"Fine," she grumbled. "I'll be down in a minute."

As their footsteps fades, Kyla dragged herself off the bed. She freshened up, wore a peach hoodie she’d got from her father three months ago, and a jean shorts.

She tied her hair into a bun and gave herself a short glance in the mirror.

Staring back at her was a ghost version of herself. Unrecognizable. Paled skin. Baggy eyes that had lost their warmth. Lips, dry with cracked, bitten from sleepless nights filled with muffled cries.

She had lost weight. Part of her hair clung to her face in an unkept way.

Sighing, she dragged herself down the stairs, feet thumping lazily at each step.

Vivian was talking with a man in a suit. The sight of him made her freeze at the bottom of the stairs.

Friend of her father?

She’d expected him to be some old, eye-wrinkled, grey-haired dude, not an epitome of demigod. Through the pair of glasses, his almond-shaped blue eyes met hers, sending a sudden heat down the back of her neck.

A black suit clung to his tall, built frame. 6.2 maybe, taller than anyone in the room.

Wait… anyone else in the room?

There were two others. One of which she’d recognized. Her father’s lawyer. Only then did Kyla notice the tight and nervous look on Vivian’s face.

Okay, what’s going on?

Much later, Kyla's fists were clutched on her knees, lips parted in disbelief as she listened to her father’s lawyer. Listened to the absurd words he was spilling, or rather, ones her father had told him to tell her.

“Are you freaking kidding me? I’m twenty-two. Not a kid. Why should I be in Mr. Redd’s custody?”

Apparently, the demigod of a man was Mr. Redd, her godforsaken new guardian. He was seated calmly, hadn’t said a single word, and his gaze was fixed in space—Expression, unreadable.

The lawyer cleared his throat. “According to Mr. Harper, you’re not to be left vulnerable. Mr. Redd’s protection is… non-negotiable. This is your father’s final directive.”

Kyla's mind screamed. She had barely had time to mourn, and now she was being handed over to some man she had never seen or known.

“Protect me from who? There has to be a mistake, my father wouldn’t hand me over to some stranger.”

“He is not a stranger…”

“I don’t know him!”

“Well, now you do,” Mr. Redd cut in, his voice deep and measured. “Miss Harper, I know this is hard to accept, but there is no going back. We’ll figure this out.”

Kyla scoffed. “I don’t think we have anything to figure out, Mr. Redd. I think you should all leave. I’m not a piece of property to be handed over.”

Without wasting a moment, Kyla rose to leave. Her father wouldn’t make such a request. Why does she need protection from some stranger her father had never introduced to her? And from who exactly?

A hand caught hers before she could walk past the couch. Mr. Redd stood, his frame looming over like a shadow, and she was suddenly conscious of how she barely reached his shoulder.

His aura was so thick it nearly crushed her. Something about him brought wild butterflies to her stomach.

“You’re not a thing, Miss Harper,” he said. “Your father wants you protected and I intend to keep that promise whether you like it or not.”

Something about his last sentence sounded like a threat. Like he was about to lose the last string of his patience.

Too bad, Mr. Redd, I’m not some girl you could order around. By promise or not.

“So, what are you going to do, huh?” she dared. “Flip me over your shoulder and shove me to your car? Do your worst or whatever. I’m not leaving this apartment.”

Vivian was mumbling something like a prayer around the corner. Her mouth opened and closed like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t say a word out loud enough.

Mr. Redd pushed his glasses up his nose slightly, his lips twitched to the side. Next, Kyla’s feet left the ground. Her stomach suddenly pressed against his shoulder.

It happened in a split second.

This man didn’t just flip her over his shoulder like some bag of potatoes. Would he shove her into his car, too?

No!

“Let me go!” Kyla screamed, wiggling both her arms and her legs, but his large arm stayed secured around her waist with no escape.

“I’ll take my leave now,” he said, glancing over his watch. “My men will gather her belongings.”

No!

“Let go of me! Help!”

Kyla caught sight of her father’s lawyer, hoping he’d stop Mr. Redd, but the man stood frozen. Files clutched against his chest with lips parted without a freaking word.

Fear? Does this lawyer fear this man taking her away?

“Where are you taking me, you little prick!” she shouted.

“The city,”

Oh shoots!

Kyla cried harder, kicking and cursing against his shoulder.

He didn’t stop. Didn’t respond.

He reached the black Bentley waiting outside, swung the door open, and shoved her in. Not too hard to hurt, but she groaned, wanting to curse again.

“Quiet.”

He didn’t raise his voice, but it somehow stopped her from talking. This man held a kind of command tone and aura that freezes people, just like how it did to Vivian and that lawyer. And now, it took effect on her, leaving her raging breath filling the car.

“Your father left you in my care, and I intend to see that. Nothing more. Nothing less. You will adapt. Follow the rules I set, and that, Miss Harper, we’ll have a good start,” he said, his blue ocean eyes piercing through her. “Do you understand?”

Kyla's jaw ticked. “I understand this is illegal.”

“Oh, I am illegal.”

He shut the door with a soft thud, walked around, entered the car, and sat beside her.

“Move,” he ordered.

The driver she hadn’t noticed, roared the car engine to life.

“One more thing, Wildling,” he shot a serious look at her. “I have no interest in your life, except keeping it intact. For now.”