All Chapters of But Daddy, I Love Him: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

***Chandler's POV*** "Sir, the flight to New York is cleared for departure." I looked up. Marcus, my assistant, was leaning against the doorframe of my office. "Your bags are already at the terminal," he added. I stood up, smoothing my suit. "And the estate? Is the house ready?" "Everything is prepared, Mr. Sterling. Per your instructions, Miss Perez’s belongings were moved in this morning. But... the workers said she wasn't pleased." A muscle twitched in my jaw. Of course she wasn't. She was probably mid-tantrum, calling that useless boyfriend of hers for a rescue that wasn't coming. "She’ll learn," I murmured. I headed for the car, the New York air already tasting like a storm. It had only been three days since my world flipped upside down. I reached into my pocket, my fingers brushing the paper that changed everything. I have heard the will read by James' lawyer. But it was a letter which he specifically had written for me with his own dying hand that changed the g

***Olivia's POV*** The grief hadn't been a quiet thing. One day, I was the pampered daughter of James Perez, the next, I was listening to a lawyer read a will that sounded more like a prison sentence. I was staring at the ceiling, wondering if I could jump from the balcony without breaking my neck to escape this hell hole, when my phone vibrated. Chandler: Dinner is ready. Come down. Then followed by... Chandler: Now. I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. Of course, he knew my number. And he just barked orders through a screen like I was an employee he was about to fire. I ignored it for ten minutes, just to be difficult, before the thought of him coming up here to collect me made me scramble out of bed. When I reached the kitchen, I stopped dead. The heavy scent of garlic, rosemary, and seared steak filled the air. Chandler was standing at the kitchen counter, his back to me. He ditched the suit jacket again, his white shirt unbuttoned at the cuffs and rolled up, exposing th

***Olivia's POV***The damp New York air hit my face as I practically sprinted down the long, winding driveway. My heels clicked against the ground, a frantic sound that matched the pulse thrumming in my neck. At the end of the gates, tucked under the shadow of a tree, Drake’s silver car sat quietly. The headlights were off, just as Chandler had predicted. 'A boy who waits in the shadows...' I shook the thought out of my head and yanked the passenger door open. The interior smelled of stale energy drinks and the familiar, sharp scent of Drake’s cologne. "Liv! Holy sh*t, I thought you weren't coming," Drake said, reaching over to pull me into a hug. "I had to wait for him to... to go to bed," I lied, my voice shaking slightly. I couldn't tell him that Chandler had caught me, sat me down, and practically handed me the keys with a smirk. It felt too much like a defeat. Drake pulled back, his hands resting on my shoulders. "Are you okay? You look pale. Did your uncle do som

***Chandler's POV***The light from my laptop was the only thing illuminating the study. It was nearly 11:00 PM. My eyes scanned the monitor but the screen was blurring into a mess of meaningless texts. My mind kept drifting. You’re losing your edge, Chandler. I berated myself, rubbing the bridge of my nose. The weird feelings... the heat, the way my skin felt too tight whenever Olivia walked into a room were an anomaly. I wasn't even botherer she wasn't home yet this late at night, I hadn't even texted her. She was taking too much space in my mind. I was an analytical man. I dealt in logic. And logically, this was just because of too much stress and the fact that I’d been living like a monk since I found out of James' death. I hadn't had a woman in my bed for months, it was only natural that the closest female presence would trigger some... reaction. I leaned back, my chair creaking in the silence of my office at home. I told myself that once I settled back into a ro

***Olivia's POV***I took a deep breath, smoothing the fabric of my dress before stepping into the dining room. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me in a hangover. The room smelled of coffee. Chandler was at the head of the table, his eyes fixed on his laptop, looking every bit the cold, efficient man I remembered. He didn't even look up when I pulled out my chair, but I could feel his gaze track my movement the second I sat down. "You’re on time," he noted, his voice a low rumble. "I can follow a clock, Chandler," I said quietly, reaching for the already made coffee. "I wanted to talk. About the... new arrangement." He finally closed the laptop down, leaning back and crossing his arms. The movement made his shirt pull tight across his chest, and I quickly looked down at my plate. "I'm listening," he said. "I know last night was a mess. I'm embarrassed about it, honestly," I admitted, keeping my tone soft and reasonable. "I shouldn't have let things ge