All Chapters of Daddy’s Good Girl : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Zella“Happy birthday, Uncle Charlie,” I cheered, hugging the old man on the wheelchair. Uncle Charlie was way older than my Dad and Isaiah, but I was always around while we grew up too. He used a wheelchair but was as stubborn and grumpy as hell.“What's fun about it? Those damn reporters are out there with their cameras again, and I don't know half the people in this hall,” He said sullenly. I could see the glint in his eyes, though. He was happy. “Are you done pretending, old man?” Sasha chuckled, handing him the present we got for him. “Maybe I am, maybe I am not,” He grinned, “Good to see my two favorite girls again,”“Oh stop,” I blushed, glancing around the party. I recognized a few folks and business partners of the King Industries. The Lord of King Industries himself stood a few meters away, holding a glass of bourbon and looking straight at us. We hadn't talked about the nightmare I had a few days ago, or what happened after. I never ever want to talk about it. “Where’s y

Isaiah “Dexter took some photos,” Charlie said proudly, grinning at his fifteen year old grandson who was running around the room with a camera. “Good,” was all I could bite out, and Charlie gave me a dirty look. “That's all you can say?” I chuckled, shaking my head at the old man. “What else do you want me to say, Charlie?” “You know, I'm old enough to give birth to you, you piece of shit.” He grunted. “You should call me, Uncle,” I could not count how many times we've had this argument. Charlie was one of the good ones, though. He was foul tempered, but his heart was in the right place, unlike that foolish betrayer who I had once called my best friend. People like Charlie were easy to read and hardly held grudges. Just like my Zella. Sweet, stubborn Zella. My dick lurched excitedly at the thought of her. “You're twelve years older, not a whole century,” I scoffed. “I was jerking off at twelve, I could have made babies,” He argued, looking rather pleased with his logic. We s

Zella His mouth slanted over mine in a kiss that was more possession than tenderness, stealing my breath. His hand at my nape held me in place, forcing me to take every deep, devouring stroke of his tongue against mine. My fingers curled helplessly against the pool tiles as he licked, sucked, teased my mouth in a slow torturous way until I was dizzy, wet everywhere, and trembling like a live wire.“You’re jealous,” he murmured between kisses. “Admit it.”“You’re conceited,” I bit back, panting heavily. “Jealous,” he repeated, and pulled away. I reached out to grab him because I was afraid he was leaving but he only wanted to shed off his clothes. He chuckled at the red hot blush that filled my cheeks, shedding every inch of his clothes until he stood gloriously bare under the moonlight. My breath hitched. No this was unfair. It was unfair for a man as old as he was, to look the way he did, so sexy and sinful. I licked my lips. I do not blame the poor Greek bimbo for touching him.

ZellaI sat stiffly as Isaiah buckled my seatbelt for me like I was a fragile porcelain doll who couldn't do a thing herself. Inside, I was steaming mad. He would not tell me what was going on. Could it be something about my father? Was that why he couldn't tell me? No, I doubted it. It felt like something else…something dangerous. The leather of the across me dipped under his broad frame as he sat down, his stony face staring out the window as the jet roared down the runway. I looked out the window too to see multiple men in Black and dark glasses, looking around, and was that… Was that a gun? “Sit back, Princess,” He murmured, and I flashed him a dirty look. The jet took off to the skies, and I just had to ask. “What is going on, Isaiah?” “It has been handled, Zella.” he said simply, and that just enraged me further. “Handled?” I scoffed. “You drag me out of a hotel in the middle of the night with all those weird security guys all around us, and you won’t even tell me what’s h

Zella I was already in a bad mood when I walked into the café. Waking up and grinding on Isaiah’s cock when I should be mad at him, annoyed me to no end. Sitting beside him all through that ride, trying to ignore every time he looked at me, was also very frustrating. The plan was simple: grab my latte, maybe a croissant, and get out. I had successfully gotten my order and turned to leave when I bumped into someone and splashed a bit of my coffee on their shirt. “Oh my God!” I gasped, nearly dropping the cup. “I’m so sorry,”He glanced down at his shirt, then backed up at me. I had never seen a ginger haired man with dark eyes before. “Well, damn. And here I thought I was safe from getting assaulted this morning.”Heat rushed to my face. Shit, this day couldn't get any worse. “I’ll pay for the dry cleaning. I'm really sorry,” “Dry cleaning?” he scoffed. “This shirt can only be dry-cleaned at a single shop in Hamburg. They have to use imported detergent and air-dry it with Alpine w