All Chapters of Make Me Yours, Daddy: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

—•TRISTAN•—In all my thirty-five years, I had never met anyone who intrigued me quite like June.She held my attention in a way nothing had since I took over the company, and that was saying something, considering we had spent only a few hours together the night we met.What unsettled me most was that, despite everything, she had managed to capture my interest… and not entirely in a bad way.For the past week, I’ve noticed she’s been avoiding me.It started subtly at first.I’d walk through the marketing department corridor on my way to morning meetings, and her desk would be empty, coffee mug gone, chair neatly pushed in, as though she’d vanished the moment she heard my footsteps.Wanting to see her every morning became the highlight of my fucking morning. I won’t pretend otherwise.I’d find myself lingering in the hallway, adjusting my cufflinks, straightening my tie, doing anything just to catch a glimpse of her.But she was never there when I passed her desk.Not until yesterday.

~*JUNE*~"June! Your phone is ringing!" Tyler calls from downstairs, his voice echoing through the apartment like a foghorn."I'm coming!" I shout back, my fingers fumbling with the hairbrush as I yank it through the tangles in my hair.I fling the brush onto the bed, snatch my bag, and sling it over my shoulder.My gaze flicks to the clock on the nightstand.7:25."Shit! I need to hurry."Even though I hate my job—hate being that annoying prick’s secretary with every fibre of my being—I still don’t want to be late."If you don’t come get your phone now, I swear I’m throwing it out the window!" Tyler bellows from downstairs."Relax, I’m coming!" I call back, rushing out of the room and down the stairs.My feet pound against each step until I burst into the sitting room.Tyler is draped across the couch, one hand buried in a family-sized bag of chips, crumbs scattered across his chest like a messy snowdrift.He shoves a handful into his mouth and speaks through the crunch."Your phone’s

—•TRISTAN•—When I hear June’s voice, I almost dismiss it as another trick of my mind—but it sounds too vivid, too real.I’ve replayed her voice in my head a hundred times before, yet none of them have ever come close to this.I snap my head toward the door, and my body freezes.June is standing in my office doorway. Her hand is still on the door handle, her body frozen mid-step.She’s clutching a folder to her chest like a shield, her knuckles white around the edges.Her face has gone pale, drained of all colour, and her honey-brown eyes are wide as saucers, locked on me and Bianca.She looks as though someone’s just thrown a bucket of cold water over her.For one terrible, suspended moment, I don’t move.Bianca is still on her knees between my legs, my cock still in her mouth.And June… June is watching.Then instinct kicks in."Stop," I say, my voice hoarse.I shove Bianca away, pulling my cock out of her mouth with a wet sound that seems to echo in the sudden silence.Fumbling to s

~*JUNE*~I can’t catch a fucking break.My life feels like a living hell.Now I don’t just have to deal with my crazy boss, I also have to deal with my ex who won’t stop calling me.The past week has been nothing but stress, and Andrew just won’t stop calling.No matter how many times I block his number, he always finds a way around it, using new numbers, private calls, and sending endless messages.My phone has become a constant source of noise.It vibrates, lights up, drags me out of whatever fragile peace I manage to find.There’s no quiet anymore. No break.Even today, which is a weekend and my one chance to claw back the sleep I’ve lost to this exhausting week—the one time I should be able to sleep in, breathe, and forget everything for a few hours—my phone on the nightstand is buzzing like a trapped hornet.It started before the sun was even fully up.At first, I ignored it, burying my face deeper into the pillow, hoping it would stop, hoping Andrew would finally get the message.

~*JUNE*~Meetings are so boring.No, boring isn’t even the right word.They are painfully, mind-numbingly, soul-crushingly unbearable.I would rather scrub every floor in this building with a toothbrush than sit through another minute of this torture.This is the first meeting I’ve ever attended, and if it were up to me, it would definitely be the last.Right now, I’m seated beside Mr. Macaulay in a conference room as big as an entire house.Around the long mahogany table sit a group of men and women, their voices blending into meaningless noise as they throw around words I barely understand.Something about business ideas. Something about numbers. Something that has them all nodding in unison like pigeons pecking at invisible crumbs.I watch the silver-haired woman at the far end of the table wave at a chart projected onto the screen, droning on about quarterly earnings and something about market saturation.Her lips keep moving, but I hear nothing.Absolutely nothing.My brain has ch