All Chapters of DADDY'S LITTLE PLAYTHING : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Sage PovThe tension in the penthouse was a physical thing, thick and heavy, like the air right before a thunderstorm. I sat opposite Mark at the dining table—the only piece of furniture that survived my earlier fit of rage—watching him pull up encrypted files on his tablet. The earlier fury had settled into a cold, lethal focus, and I knew that meant war."The old man's name is Domenico DeLuca," Mark stated, his voice low and devoid of emotion. "He is the architect. Vincent was just the muscle who inherited the name.""And what does the architect want, besides dropping charges against his idiot grandson?" I asked, pushing my empty coffee cup away."He wants respect, he wants control, and he wants a full withdrawal from the criminal landscape I cost them," Mark replied, sliding the tablet toward me. "Look at the list of assets he wants relinquished. It's a bloodbath."I skimmed the document. "He's demanding everything: the ports, the offshore accounts, the distribution network. Mark,

Sage PovThe war room fell silent, the only sound the low, almost anxious hum of the servers. We were past the point of shouting; now it was just the heavy waiting game."The compliance signal went through," Mark confirmed, his voice a low, steady rumble. He looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows, though the night offered no real view, only our own reflections staring back. "Domenico knows I've initiated the transfer. Now we wait for the seize command."I walked over to him, resting my hands on his tense shoulders. "And the second he tries to take the money, he gets the digital plague.""He gets a catastrophic failure of his entire enterprise," Mark corrected, tipping his head back to meet my gaze. "It's designed to brick his communications, scramble his records, and shut down every operational branch that relies on digital management. He'll be reduced to using carrier pigeons for a month."I smiled, a cold, satisfied expression. "That buys us time to hit his financial assets and loc

Sage povThe name hit me like a physical blow. Thorne. Frederick Thorne. The corporate rat Mark had just humiliated in the boardroom. He was the real threat, the one who'd exploited the chaos."Thorne?" I gasped, shoving the filthy drop cloth off the camera lens above us. "Mark, he was only interested in the stock price! Why would he kidnap the captive?"Mark’s fury was instantaneous and terrifying. He slammed Thaddeus Kane against the wall again, ignoring my question. "Where did he take the captive, Kane? The warehouse. The private jet. Talk!"Kane coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "I don't know the final destination! He only said the terms changed, that he was taking control. He left half an hour ago."Mark let out a raw, frustrated roar and dropped Kane, leaving him a crumpled mess on the concrete floor. He turned to me, his eyes blazing with a cold, desperate light."He played us," Mark snarled, running a shaky hand through his hair. "Thorne saw the initial as

Sage PovThe quiet that settled over the penthouse was heavy, charged, and utterly satisfying. Mark was still breathing hard, his body sprawled heavily against mine on the hallway floor. The cold marble felt stark against our bare skin, but I didn't care. The desperate, messy reality of what had just happened was the only thing that mattered. His past was exorcised, at least for now.I felt the slow, steady thud of his heart against my ribs, a powerful, calming anchor. I traced the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble."Are you okay?" I murmured, the question was raspy and thick with exhaustion.He didn't move for a long moment, just pressed a kiss to my neck. "I am now," he whispered, the words shaking slightly with residual tension. "You... you were magnificent, little bird. You didn't flinch.""I told you I was real," I reminded him, my fingers tightening on his tense shoulders. "She was just a memory, Mark. A complicated, guilt-ridden memory. But I'm the on

Mark Pov The information hit us faster than expected. Beth was a whirlwind of digital destruction. Within six hours, she delivered a preliminary report: Thorne wasn't just leveraging his portfolio; he was deeply indebted to a rival consortium, and his public stock was inflated by nearly forty percent. The exposure of that single fact would obliterate him. "Beth is terrified of federal prison, so she's working efficiently," Sage observed, scrolling through the data dump. "Thorne's public announcement is scheduled for 8:00 AM tomorrow. Live from the Exchange floor. The trade will happen there." "The Exchange floor," I repeated, the location confirming his motive. He wanted maximum humiliation, maximum public exposure. He wanted to look like the savior of the company. "Hector!" I barked into the comms. "Prep the financial counter-strike. We initiate the public exposure of Thorne's inflated assets at 7:55 AM. Five minutes before his press conference. I want the market to react before h