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Open For Daddy

Author: Bree
last update Last Updated: 2025-11-01 01:23:36

Damien’s POV

I turned back to the stove, flipping the bacon with a sharp snap of the spatula. A wicked grin pulled at my lips. She thinks she’s escaping me? Doll, you don’t even realize how deep you’re sinking.

I poured the whisked eggs into the pan, the sizzle loud and sharp, and all the while my mind replayed her face when I pinned her, her breathless little whisper of stop, the way her knees nearly gave out when I bit down on her pulse.

“God, Isabella,” I muttered under my breath, stirring the eggs. “You’re going to kill me with how much I want you.”

And no matter how much she fought, how much she scurried off to hide, I knew the truth now.

I had an effect on her.

And once a man like me has that power… there’s no undoing it.

By the time she came back down, I had everything ready. Plates set, bacon crisped golden, eggs fluffy, French toast dusted with sugar, strawberries glistening red against porcelain white. I’d even poured the orange juice into crystal glasses.

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  • Damien's Willing Captive    The Unexpected Player

    Damien's POV The car hummed through the streets, and Jaxon finally broke the silence. “Boss… what’s going on in that head of yours? Seriously. You’ve been muttering to yourself ever since we left the monastery. What's the plan?” “The plan…” My voice faded, my mind snagging on the endless web of possibilities that refused to fall neatly into place. Jaxon let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Olivia… I was thinking… What if she’s a spy herself? What if she's been playing us all along? What if she's the enemy?” I raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly. “You really think that?” “I mean… What else could it be? After everything we’ve uncovered, it’s the only theory that fits,” he muttered, knuckles whitening as his grip tightened on the wheel. I chuckled again, louder this time, the sound sharp with disbelief. “No, Jaxon. No. That’s impossible. Olivia… She saved my life. Literally. Do you remember the casino clash or have you forgotten so soon? That day I thought

  • Damien's Willing Captive    In Plain Sight

    Damien's POV Before long, we rolled into Churchill Street. It wasn’t like the estates near my penthouse…the kind of streets where the trees were groomed, the lampposts ornate, and the air smelled faintly of privilege. No. Churchill Street was ordinary. The kind of street where life moved at its own pace, the kind where neighbors waved to each other, where kids on bikes squealed past parked cars, and the occasional dog barked at anything that moved. Apartment blocks rose modestly on either side, their paint peeling in places, balconies crowded with potted plants or laundry flapping in the breeze. It was…real. Harshly real compared to my polished world. Jaxon slowed in front of a narrow, beige apartment building. I didn’t wait for him to climb down before I did. “Drag her out here,” I said sharply, leaning against the car, letting the street absorb my presence. My phone buzzed in my hand, but I ignored it, scrolling through business news with a practiced disinterest unti

  • Damien's Willing Captive    In Search of The Truth

    Damien’s POV The water ran hot and hard, steady against my shoulders like a hand that would shake me awake. Steam wrapped the bathroom in a soft haze, but it couldn't fog what was already prying at the edges of my mind. I let the spray hit my back and tried to think of nothing…of the party I had to attend, of the Osmonds’ wine list, of the polite smiles I’d wear like armor. But thoughts have a way of finding the soft spot. Isabella. Cleo said it bluntly…Isabella leaked the file. The maid swore she saw her. Even Olivia, of all people, suddenly swore she’s sure Isabella did it. It fits on paper: testimony, a name, motive. But the paper didn't account for the rhythms beneath the facts…timing, tone, the spin of desperation that makes people point fingers to hide their own. What do I actually know about all this? I closed my eyes and let the water map the lines of my face. Before now Olivia had been convinced it was Cleo…too obvious, too clean. Cleo had reasons, resentment

  • Damien's Willing Captive    I Just Want To Go Home

    Isabella’s POV His voice dragged the word across the air like a blade. “What the hell is going on in that pretty head of yours, doll?” he growled. I kept my face a small, obedient thing. The pressure of his hand was steady. The tremor in my throat was real, but the rest was performance. Men like Damien read the body long before the mind. He wanted spectacle…confession, collapse, contrition. He wanted to close the argument with my surrender. He would not get it. Not tonight. “You’re choking me, Boss,” I wheezed, as if the air leaving me might pull pity from him. He swore and banged his fist against the doorframe, the sound sharp enough to make me flinch for show. Good…noise covers movement. He wanted spectacle. I’d give him one that let me breathe. When he left earlier with his friend I nearly squealed. A tiny, private celebration…barely a sound…burst in my chest the second they left the living room. From the look on the girl’s face, I could see a way out of this prison, a

  • Damien's Willing Captive    The New Madam

    Damien’s POV It really got me. My teeth clenched so hard my jaw popped. My blood roared. My nails dug into my palms until I nearly drew blood. “If you don’t consider me a friend and don’t want me in your house, then fine.” Her voice was trembling but steady enough. “Oh, and Damien, you’ll get my resignation letter first thing tomorrow morning.” She spun toward the door. Something bit at my conscience…fucking conscience, always dragging its feet in. I should let her go. I should bloody let her go. But I couldn’t. “Wait,” I growled, my patience unraveling. “What exactly do you want from me, Olivia?” She froze, her hand on the knob. “I just want to stay close for a while. Watch her. If she’s good news, I’ll let her be, I promise. But if she’s not, then I’m right and you should get rid of her immediately.” I dragged a deep breath through clenched teeth. Why me? Why now? Why is she acting this way? It’s so unlike her. Maybe that’s why I should let her have h

  • Damien's Willing Captive    Let Me In

    Damien’s POV “Where the fuck do you think you’re going, Prince Charming?” The voice rang out, suspicious, furious… and even disappointed. Fuck. That was when I remembered why I had dropped her in the first place. Fucking Olivia. Always with the worst timing. I turned, my face tight with a forced smile that hurt to wear. “Uhm… Liv… she hurt her leg. So I want to gently set her down in the bedroom and…” “Gently? Bedroom? Damien, for Christ’s sake, what did you drink? Isn’t it too early to get drunk? Why are you being soft with the enemy? Literally!” The word enemy hit like a whip crack in the room. “Enemy?” some of the guys echoed in confusion. “Since when did doll become our enemy?” Andy blurted out, and I shot him a glare that promised broken bones if he didn’t shut up. He flinched back instantly, aware of his obnoxious question. “Liv,” I said through my teeth. “Just settle down, and I’ll be back in no time.” But she wasn’t settling down. Not Olivia. She marche

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