All Chapters of Let Me Go Daddy, I Am Engaged To Your Son!: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Iris's POV Marcus had that look on his face when he was keeping a secret and was physically incapable of holding it in any longer, like a child on Christmas morning who had already poked holes in the wrapping paper and needed someone to notice. We were still at the brunch table, the plates cleared, the coffee gone cold, and he was practically vibrating with whatever news he was about to deliver. "I have a surprise," he said. I set down my napkin and gave him my full attention. "You already surprised me with the rose petals and the candles and the champagne. My expectations are now unreasonably high." "Good because this is better than rose petals." He leaned forward, lowering his voice even though no one was close enough to hear us. "Pack your bags, we will leave for the airport at five." I blinked. "The airport?" "For our honeymoon babe. I know we talked about waiting a few weeks, but I couldn't stand the idea of going back to work and pretending everything was normal. So I book

Iris's POVI followed Marcus into the dark, leaving the candles smoking in the living room and the phone dead on the dresser where I had dropped it like it had burned me. The villa had changed. Earlier it had felt like a sanctuary, all billowing white curtains and the soft hush of waves below the terrace. Now the shadows had teeth. The silence had weight. Every corner held something I didn't want to look at.He was already in bed with his back to me, the sheet pulled up to his shoulder, his body rigid under the thin white cotton. I climbed in beside him and waited. I waited for him to roll over and ask me again what I had been hiding on that phone. I waited for him to demand answers I couldn't give. I waited for the fight we should have had.But he didn't move. He just lay there breathing slow and even, and I knew with the certainty of someone who had shared a bed with him for years that he was not asleep. Marcus had never been good at pretending, but he was trying. For my sake or for

Iris’s POV He removed the blindfold then, and the moonlight was so bright after the darkness that I had to blink several times before his face came into focus above me. He was looking at me with an expression I had never seen before, it was so raw and unguarded that it made my chest ache. Then his mouth curved into that familiar, knowing smile, and the moment passed. He positioned me on my stomach, his hands guiding my hips upward, and the shift in angle made me gasp into the cushion. His palm came down on my backside with a sharp crack that made me bite the fabric to muffle the sound. He soothed the sting with his palm, then did it again, harder this time. "Count," he said. "Two." "Good girl." Another crack, this one on the other side. "Again." "Three." My voice was shaking. "Victor, please." "Please what?" "Please. I need…" "I know what you need." He leaned over me, his chest pressing against my back, his lips brushing my ear. "You need this, you need me and you n

Iris’s POV By the sixth day, I had stopped sleeping entirely.I couldn’t sleep during the daylight hours, when Marcus was awake and attentive and looking at me with those steady, trusting eyes that made me want to crawl out of my own skin. Nor could I sleep during the night, after Victor slipped back through the window and I crawled into bed beside my drugged husband and stared at the ceiling until the first pale fingers of dawn reached through the curtains. Sleep had become a luxury I could no longer afford, a vulnerability I couldn't permit myself. If I closed my eyes for even a moment, I saw Victor's face hovering above me in the dark. If I let my guard slip, I murmured things in my unconsciousness that I couldn't take back once morning came.Marcus noticed. He had always been observant about exactly the wrong things."You look wrecked," he said at breakfast on the terrace, sliding a plate of sliced mango toward me with the same gentle concern he brought to everything. "Are you s

Iris's POVThe last two days on the island were a fever dream I couldn't wake from.Victor had abandoned all pretense of caution. The man who had spent the first five nights moving through the villa like a specter, timing his arrivals to the exact moment Marcus's breathing deepened into unconsciousness, was now walking through the front door while my husband was still brushing his teeth in the bathroom. He left fingerprints on the wine glasses. He stopped bothering to smooth the sand from his footprints on the terrace. He left marks on my neck that I had to hide behind scarves and high collars and strategically draped hair, and when I hissed at him to be more careful, he simply laughed and told me I was overreacting."You're going to destroy us," I whispered on the sixth night, my back pressed against the cold tile of the bathroom wall. Marcus was in the bedroom twenty feet away, still awake, still alert, still asking questions I didn't have answers for. "He's not even under yet. He c