Sinfully Yours, Daddy

Claire

Today had to be perfect—no exceptions, no mistakes. I was about to give my boyfriend the surprise of a lifetime.

A marriage proposal. 

The beginning of our forever and a perfect way to mark our anniversary—he'd never see it coming.

Every detail was planned out—from the bouquet of roses in my hands, to the reservations at one of the city's most exclusive restaurants—reservations I'd only managed to secure weeks ago through countless calls and relentless follow-ups; something other people would consider harassment, but to me, it was just simple tenacity. 

As the saying goes, ‘You want something? You go for it,’ and I wanted this anniversary to be flawless.

Clutching the roses in excitement, I approached the receptionist at Alex’s department with a bright smile. “Oh, hi, Laura. Won’t be long—I’m just meeting Alex. He’s still in?”

“Sure.” She started to smile as she looked up, but it faltered—just for a second. At the sight of me? The hesitation was fleeting, but it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. With a nod and a now firmer smile, she added, “He’s… in his office. Should I let him know—”

“No, no—it’s fine,” I cut in quickly as I walked past. “It’s a surprise.”

Something about her demeanor prickled at the edges of my mind, but I brushed it off. 

Maybe she was just having a bad day.

In the elevator, I rehearsed what I'd say when I saw him. ‘Happy Valentine’s Day, love. Guess who’s sweeping you off to dinner?’ It sounded cute in my head—the sort of thing that would make him laugh.

But as I neared his office, the faint sounds I heard made me pause. 

They were soft… muffled… not unlike… moans? My steps faltered for a second. No, I told myself, shaking my head. My ears were probably just playing tricks on me. This was a workplace, afterall. Surely nobody would be that stupid?

Still, as I opened the door—

I froze.

All the blood drained from my face, and the words I’d rehearsed died in my throat.

I hadn’t knocked—I never needed to. Alex and I didn’t have those kinds of reservations. Or so I'd thought—because right there, tangled up with another woman like branches in a flood, was my boyfriend. 

Alex.

With his eyes closed, his lips moving hungrily against hers and his hands pulling her closer by the waist like she was the very air he needed to breathe.

Those same hands that cradled my face whenever he told me just how much he loved me, and his lips… I could barely think past the sight of them on hers. Her back was to me, shielding her face, but his—oh, his face—was so… engrossed, it physically hurt to see.

He hadn’t kissed me like that in months! And now…

Wait. Was that—

Tori?

The name infiltrated the painful fog clouding my mind and I gasped—the bouquet slipping from my trembling hands and hitting the floor with a thud.

The sound shattered the moment and both of them froze—their heads whipping toward me.

“Oh my God!” Tori blurted, flushing crimson—her hair a disheveled mess and guilt written over every inch of her face.

Alex scrambled for words—his face ashen and his eyes wide with panic. “Claire, I—” 

“Don’t.” My voice came out hollow. Unrecognisable.

The room swayed, and I gripped the doorframe to steady myself, forcing my gaze to stay on him—on them. 

The betrayal hit like a punch to the gut. 

Suddenly it all made sense—the recent distance. The excuses and half-hearted smiles. The forgotten little things that used to mean everything. Him brushing off any talk that had to do with our future… I hadn't wanted to see it—all the signs, the glaring red flags. I'd foolishly ignored them all..

“How long?” I managed, each word trembling with barely contained rage.

Alex flinched. “It’s not what it looks like—”

“Don’t lie to me!” I snapped, my voice rising as the hurt clawed its way out. “It’s exactly what it looks like, Alex. And you—” I turned to Tori, bitter laughter spilling out of me in a cold, jagged rush that echoed in the office. “I told you everything. About the trip. The ring! The surprise I planned for tonight. And this is what you do?”

“I didn’t mean... Claire, I—” Her voice cracked, but I didn’t care. 

“What is she talking about?” Alex’s panicked voice cut in, his gaze darting to Tori.

Tori avoided my eyes, arms crossing over her chest like a shield.

I took a step back, my chest heaving as the weight of their treachery pressed tears to my eyes. But I wouldn’t cry—not here, not in front of them. I sucked in a shaky breath, my voice breaking as I spat, “You know what? Fuck you. Both of you.”

“Claire please, hear me out—”

“What’s the point?” I hissed, each word trembling with fury. “We’re done, Alex. There’s no trip. No engagement. No us.”

“No, Claire– I can explain—”

“Oh, go ahead, then!” I shot. “Explain.”

His mouth opened, then closed but nothing came out—no words.

Just silence.

“That’s what I thought,” I muttered, turning to leave, but Alex’s hand shot out to grab me.

“Don’t touch me!” My voice cracked as I wrenched myself free. “What more do you want from me, Alex?”

“Let’s talk this out—”

“There’s nothing to talk about!” My voice shook with fury. “You made sure of that when you shoved your tongue—and who knows what else—down someone else’s throat. How long has this been going on, huh? Answer me!”

“Keep your voice down!” he hissed, low and warning, as if I were the one at fault. “Let’s not make a scene.”

“A scene? You cheat on me, and I’m the problem?” My disbelief cut through the air. “You’ve lost your mind!”

“And you’re out of line!” he snapped, his calm facade finally cracking. “I didn’t mean—Damn it, I’m screwing this up.” He dragged a frustrated hand through his hair. “Claire, just calm down and listen—”

“To what, Alex?” I blinked back the tears blurring my vision. “More lies about how ‘this isn't what it looks like?’ You must think I’m stupid—”

“No, Claire—”

“After everything we’ve been through,” I pressed on, my voice breaking. “All I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me?”

“I couldn’t breathe!” he burst out, guilt twisting into frustration. 

“Oh, and that's my fault? I’m the reason you snuck around with your assistant?”

“Yes!” he exploded. “Don’t you see? I love you, but you micromanage everything! You make every decision—” 

“Because you don't!”

“And you do too much, Claire!” His face twisted from guilt to something uglier. “You suffocate me!” 

The words sliced through me.

What the hell was that even supposed to mean?

“Suffocate you?” My already broken heart splintered into more pieces, with my hand instinctively rising to my chest as though to hold them together. “That’s your excuse for sleeping with her?” I jerked my hand toward Tori, who looked like she might be sick at any moment.

“Not entirely,” His shoulders sagged, and his voice dropped to a maddening calm. “But we’ve been seeing each other for months. Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long to notice.”

Months.

The word echoed in my head, drowning out everything else.

Months of my life reduced to a lie. How could I have been so blind? The late nights and vague excuses—had I missed it, or had I simply refused to see it?

The bastard!

This was the son-of-a-bitch I was so invested in?

I felt worse than a fool.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think—I just needed to get away. 

My heels clicked against the floor as I stalked toward the exit, rage and heartbreak fueling my steps.

“Claire!” His voice followed, but I didn’t stop until I was outside.

The February cold bit into my skin, but it couldn’t compete with the frost spreading through my veins. I swiped furiously at the tears streaking my cheeks, as if scrubbing them away could erase what had just happened. My breaths came in shaky bursts—each one harder than the last—when Alex’s hand clamped around my wrist again.

“Let me go!” I snapped, but his grip was firm.

“Claire, don’t overreact—”

I spun to face him, fury burning through every nerve in my body. “You humiliated me, Alex! You call this overreacting? I had plans for us—the Maldives in a few weeks! Our future. I even—” My voice broke. “I thought I was going to marry you.”

His expression flickered with regret briefly, but it quickly hardened.

“Look, I messed up, okay?” he said, his voice sharp before softening into that condescending calm. “It was a mistake.”

I laughed, the sound hollow and disbelieving. The sheer gall of his words sent fresh rage coursing through me and I forcefully yanked my hand free. “Losing your keys is a mistake, Alex. Forgetting an anniversary is a mistake. This?” I jabbed a trembling finger in his chest. “This was months of lying and sneaking around!”

“Claire, listen—” he started. “Tori’s history. I promise—” 

“You must really think I'm stupid,” I laughed again, repeating my earlier words.

“No, I swear. If you'd just let it go, we can start over—”

“With someone who thinks I'm too much—”

“I was upset!” He cut in, his tone urgent as he reached for me again. “I didn't mean any of that, baby. And what about the trip?” His expression was pleading now. “Years of hard work—your sweat, Claire. We can’t just throw everything away.”

“That’s right, Alex. My sweat, not yours.” I reminded him, wrenching my arm free. “And the trip?” My voice was incredulous. “You still think you deserve anything from me after that?” I gaped at him, stunned. 

“Come on,” he pressed, desperation creeping into his voice. “It’s paid for. You said it yourself—we leave in a few weeks. Let’s just think this through—”

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I noticed the crowd forming, their curious stares fixed on the unfolding drama but I was past caring. My gaze darted wildly, searching for an escape—some way out of this nightmare.

That’s when I saw him.

A tall figure leaned casually against a sleek black car a few feet away, his attention fixed on his phone. He stood out, striking and completely out of place amidst the sea of strangers.

The tailored suit hugging his frame, dark hair swept back with effortless precision, his sharp jawline and dusting of scruff—all of it exuded an air of quiet authority. 

He was magnetic—but more importantly, he looked uninterested, unaffected, and completely unbothered by the chaos around him—and maybe that’s exactly why I needed him.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I stepped toward him, brushing past Alex without another word.

“Hey!” My voice cut through the noise—steady despite the carnage brewing inside me. “You!”

The stranger straightened as I approached, his brow lifting in silent question as his gaze shifted from his phone to me. His gaze, sharp and penetrating, held me in place and I felt my mouth go dry suddenly.

“Me?” His voice was deep, and smooth—like smoked English whiskey and sweetened honey washing over my frayed nerves. He slipped his phone into his pocket, giving me his full attention, his gaze sharper now, as if assessing the situation.

I pulled the engagement ring from my pocket—the metal cold in my trembling hands—and held it out to him.

“Will you marry me?”