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All Chapters of Daddy, Please Make Me Yours: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

63 Chapters

-050-

—•TRISTAN•—Am I dreaming right now?I freeze, staring at the man standing at the bottom of the stairs, and my stomach drops so violently it feels like I’ve been punched.He looks older. The boyish softness around his jaw has been replaced by something leaner, more angular.But those eyes...Those piercing blue eyes are exactly the same.Eyes I never thought I'd see again.And now he's standing in June's house.Why the fuck is he here?My pulse hammers against my temples. I can feel my composure cracking, the mask I wear so carefully slipping just slightly.I grip the armrest of this disgusting chair, fingers digging into the worn fabric beside a mysterious stain, and force myself to breathe. In. Out. Just like my therapist taught me. Just like I've practiced for years.It doesn't fucking work."Is someone going to answer me?" June's voice cuts through the static in my head.I drag my gaze toward her. She's looking between us, her brow furrowed and her pretty pink lips pursed in confu

-051-

—•TRISTAN•—What the…Is this some kind of sick joke?The muscles in my jaw tighten so hard, it feels like they might snap clean through the bone.I should settle the score between us?If anything, he's the one who owes me.And why the bloody hell is he dragging June into this?My hands ball into fists at my sides, and I have to stop myself from doing something I’ll regret.Rage burns through my chest like petrol set alight, and every part of me wants to shove him backward, watch him stumble, fall, and crack his skull against the wooden floor.And honestly? It wouldn’t be such a bad idea.At least then he’d shut the fuck up for a few minutes.Unable to bear sharing the same air as him for another second, I shove him back, but not hard enough to send him crashing onto the goddamn floor.Not because I give a damn about him. God, no.It’s because June is upstairs, and the last thing I need is for her to come downstairs and find her precious little friend unconscious on the floor, with blo

-052-

~*JUNE*~For the hundred and first time, I finally decide that getting back to work is a good thing.A very good thing. The best thing, actually.Okay, fine. Tyler might have been the main driving force behind my sudden realization.The annoying bastard spent the entire weekend going on and on about how I needed to get back to work, as though I hadn't already heard him the first fifty times.And, annoyingly enough, his constant nagging seems to have worked.He can be a convincing asshole sometimes.Actually, who am I kidding? Sometimes is being generous. He's a convincing asshole most of the time.And apparently, I'm easily convinced.So here I am, standing outside Mr. Macaulay's office like some sort of creep, debating whether I should go in and tell him I've officially resumed work or simply sit my ass down at my dusty desk and wait for him to come out.Then I could wave at him and say, "Hi, Mr. Macaulay. I'm back at work."No. I can't do that.That sounds fucking lame. And stupid a

-053-

~*JUNE*~Here I am, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this man has suddenly become all lovey-dovey with me overnight.Not that I'm complaining.I actually love it.Call me cheap, desperate, or attention-starved, whatever. I love—and desperately want—every bit of attention my married boss has suddenly decided to shower me with.And just when I thought things couldn't possibly get any better, he goes and flips the script by asking me to be his date for a dinner party.Wow.Just... wow.But wait.What about his wife?Why isn't he asking her to be his date instead?Mr. Macaulay gives my hands, still wrapped in his, a gentle squeeze, pulling me from my crowded thoughts. I blink, refocusing on him.Gosh… those eyes.There's something about them that completely enchants me every single time I look into them."I'm still waiting for your answer, darling," he says, his thumbs gently brushing over the backs of my hands."Uhh... I would really love to go—""So that's a yes?" he cu

-054-

~*JUNE*~I never imagined keeping myself under control would become such a difficult task—one I'd repeatedly fail at.My heart just won't stop hammering against my chest like an overexcited puppy, and my pulse refuses to settle down no matter how many times I try to calm myself. It feels like someone has fucked with the brakes and left the damn thing stuck in accelerator mode.And the most fascinating part?Any time my mind drifts to Mr. Macaulay, my traitorous pussy pulses at the illicit thought of him.I feel like a whore.A happy whore, at that.With how ridiculously pleased I am, I might as well go find myself a motherfucking pole and start a new career.Jesus fucking Christ.What the hell is wrong with me?A few minutes ago, I had to force myself to stop letting out tiny screeches of joy because Mr. John, the security guard stationed at the far end of the hall, kept shooting me glares sharp enough to curdle milk.But honestly, can you blame me?After everything that happened in Mr

-055-

~*JUNE*~There it is.The big fucking problem.As if deciding which house to take wasn't already difficult enough, the prices are practically through the roof.They're high enough to make me question whether these houses come with a private island and a personal chef.Like, who the fuck decided these houses should cost this much?Whoever came up with these ridiculous prices needs to be hunted down and thrown in prison.If this isn't daylight robbery, I honestly don't know what is.There is absolutely nothing about this place that justifies that price.Aside from a little bit of aesthetic here and there and the fact that it's located in the center of the city, I can't even see what else could possibly justify the ridiculous rent.The paint job isn't even nice. The entire place is painted white, making it look like a fucking hospital.If I actually decide to take this place, the first thing I'm doing is changing the damn paint."I think this is the one," Tyler says, strolling back out fr

-056-

~*JUNE*~I'm immobilized.My feet are practically glued to the concrete, and my finger is hovering inches from the doorbell like I'm about to launch a missile instead of pressing a fucking button.I've been standing outside Andrew's porch for God knows how long. Long enough for the afternoon sun to disappear and the sky to turn a dusky orange.The shadows have stretched across the driveway, swallowing the hedges and the familiar curve of the mailbox.Very welcoming.Damn it, June. Forget about your damn surroundings and just press the fucking doorbell. It's a button. You press it, the door opens, and you get this over with.Simple.Except my hand refuses to cooperate.Fuck.I stare at the door, silently willing myself to move.Swallowing hard against a dry throat, I tighten my fingers around the strap of my bag.Every instinct in me screams to turn around, call a cab, and get the hell out of here.Honestly, that sounds like an excellent plan.Except my legs aren't moving either.They'r

-057-

~*JUNE*~I knew it.Of course this was what Andrew wanted to talk about.The same old "I miss you" speech, followed by another desperate attempt to get me back.Foolish me for thinking he was going to tell me something else. Something actually important, something worth dragging myself back here for.I guess I gave him far too much credit.Though, truth be told, I sure as hell didn't expect him to threaten to kill himself if I didn't take his ass back.You've got to be fucking kidding me.Does he really think I'm going to fall for that?It's just another one of his classic manipulative games.He's pulled this shit before, and I've fallen for it more times than I care to admit.But I'm not falling for it again."Please, June. Give us another chance. I promise you won't regret it," he pleads.I shake my head. "That's not going to happen. I've moved on, Andrew. You need to do the same.""So this is it?" His expression falls. "There's really no chance for us?""No.""Not even one?""Not ev

-058-

~*JUNE*~Just as I expected, Andrew doesn't answer me.It's as if he's suddenly gone deaf or developed some serious problem with his hearing this evening.But his sudden loss of hearing isn't what bothers me the most.It's his behavior.Something about him feels different tonight. Strange. Unsettling.For one, none of what he's doing right now makes any fucking sense.Slowly, Andrew turns away from the heavy oak door and fixes his terrifying, unblinking stare on me.Without taking his eyes off me, he slips the key into his pocket. That single, methodical movement freezes the blood in my veins.His eyes...There's something in them that I can't quite pinpoint. Something dark and sinister that sends a fresh wave of fear through me, making my knees feel weak beneath me.He starts walking towards me slowly, each step deliberate and unnervingly calm.My pulse skyrockets as I watch him approach.He looks like a fucking boogeyman stalking his prey, and suddenly, I feel trapped, like I've som

-059-

~*JUNE*~I’m fucking terrified.No, that's an understatement.I’m so consumed by fear that my entire body is shaking, and I can barely feel myself anymore.Bringing both my hands together in front of me, I plead in a small, trembling voice, "Please don't do this, Andrew."He huffs in annoyance, completely unmoved by my plea.Unbuttoning his trousers, he yanks them off and tosses them into a corner. Then he strips off his shirt, leaving him standing over me in nothing but his boxers.He grabs my arms and rolls me onto my back.The second my spine hits the mattress, a small hiss of pain escapes my lips.My hair is tangled across the sheets, my heart pounding so hard I can barely think.Reaching down, he grabs my ankles."No." I shake my head frantically, trying to pull away. "Andrew, please. Stop. I’m begging you. Please, just stop. If you do this, I’ll never forgive you.""I don't care." He spits the words out, his expression cold.He pulls my legs towards him, but I violently wrench m

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