Daddy’s Orders (Silver Fox Daddies)

Fear and anxiety gripped me as Logan and I walked upstairs. I wasn’t sure where we were going, exactly. But with Logan at my side, I felt like I could do anything.

I was nervous as hell at the idea of talking to Dad. I knew he was a liar, that he’d lie to me again without thinking twice about it. However, I needed to make sure that Marta was alright. No matter what she’d done, Marta was the only person who’d ever loved me, the only mother I’d ever known.

Together, Logan and I approached the double doors that led to his office. My heart skipped a beat as I realized where we were standing.

“I thought this room was off-limits?”

“Not right now. Best place in the house for a private meeting. Come on.”

He pushed the door open, revealing a massive room with towering windows up to the ceilings and a massive oak desk situated so that it looked out onto the ocean. Bookshelves were neatly arranged on one side of the room, a fireplace with a huge TV over it on the other. A small bar was in one corner, a meeting area of four wing-backed chairs and a black table in the other.

It was an impressive room in a house full of impressive rooms.

“Come here,” he said, nodding toward his desk. “I’ve got Zoom open, let me show you how to use it.”

I stepped around the enormous desk with him and in front of the computer. Logan gave me the basics in using a computer to conduct a video call.

“Do I have to look at him?” I asked, pointing at the video button. “I want to talk to him, but I don’t know if I can handle looking into his eyes while he spits out one goddamn lie after another.”

“I felt the same way, and that’s why I turned off video. Just click here and… done.”

A touch of calm ran through me.

“OK,” Logan said. “I’m going to step out. But know that if you want to, you can end the call at any time. Tell him to fuck off and click the phone icon here.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I just need to do this all on my own.”

He nodded in understanding. “OK. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re finished. Call when you’re ready by clicking here—his number is the last one in the list.”

Logan prepared to move away. Before he did, however, I threw my arms around him and buried my face into his chest. He placed his hand on my back, and I felt so small in his grasp. I also felt protected, as if he’d do anything for me. Logan had put his own life in danger to make sure I was safe.

He squeezed me one last time.

“Good luck.”

With that, he left me alone in the enormous room at the enormous desk. I watched as he made his way to the other side of the room and left, shutting the door behind him. When I was ready, I clicked the button to call.

The phone rang a few times, and part of me hoped that Dad might not answer.

“Hello?” he asked. “Emily, is that you?”

I cleared my throat and spoke. “It’s me.”

A sigh of relief came from the other side. “Thank God. Em, you have no idea how worried I’ve been since I heard what happened. Hearing that you’re safe and sound makes me so happy.”

His voice was syrupy sweet, slathered with enough fake concern to make me want to puke. It was a good thing that I’d chosen to not do a video call—there was no way I would’ve been able to handle seeing his face while he said those phony as hell words.

“Why is the camera not on?” he asked. “Em, I want to see your face. Please.”

I tensed, the idea of looking at Dad’s face enough to make my stomach turn. My first instinct was to tell him to screw off, that I never wanted to see his face again.

“Please, Em.”

“Fine.” I leaned forward and hit the video button. My father’s face, his features painted with an expression of over-the-top concern, appeared on the big TV over the fireplace. I could see myself in the corner, the camera attached to the computer on Logan’s desk.

My stomach tensed as I looked upon my dad. Just seeing him was enough to make me never want to go home again.

“There you are,” he said. “Good. You’re looking fine. It’s just… after what happened…”

“Yeah. I know. Speaking of which, where’s Marta now?”

Anger tinged his face. “Marta? Why the hell do you care about her? She tried to kidnap you, remember? She put your life in danger. If I were you—”

“Well, you’re not me. And I want to know where she is.”

Dad shrugged sadly, shaking his head. “Em, your guess is as good as mine. Whatever happened with her on the beach, she’d planned it all on her own. I had nothing to do with it if you’re wondering.”

Dad’s words didn’t sit well with me. It was almost as if he was overselling the story he was weaving.

“But I have to wonder,” he said. “Why didn’t you get on that boat with her?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Marta, a woman you love and trust, gave you the chance to leave the prison where that prick Stone is keeping you. I would’ve thought that you’d been eager to get away. Why didn’t you leave?”

“Are you kidding? Three men with guns pulled up to the beach while I’m wearing nothing but a bikini and demanded that I go with them, and you’re honestly wondering why I didn’t?”

His eyes narrowed. “A bikini? You know you’re not supposed to be wearing clothes like that.” The words seemed to escape from his mouth, his voice carrying the judgmental, controlling tone that I was used to.

“I was wearing what I wanted to wear,” I shot back. “And that’s got nothing to do with the story.”

“I think it’s got everything to do with the story. If your choice of beachwear is any indication, it sounds like Stone’s giving you far more freedom than you ought to have. Makes sense that you’d use it to dress like a whore.”

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked. “I almost died and all you care about is what I was wearing?”

Dad formed his lips into a stern line, as if working past the anger he felt at the idea of me dressed in a bikini.

“You’re right, more important things than that. Though we will discuss that matter when you’re back at the house.”

Just the mention of being back with my dad was enough to make me sick to my stomach.

“Why didn’t you go with her? Why didn’t you take the chance to escape Stone?”

“I told you why. And besides, you’ve always told me to be wary of people like that coming for me. You always told me that there were men who wanted to get ahold of me, and if they did, I’d wish that I was dead.”

“You should’ve gone with her, Em. Let me ask you this, how many people are there on the island with you? There’s you, and there’s Stone. Who else?”

“What? Why?”

“How many guards? I’m sure a man like Stone keeps plenty of private security. How many are there?”

I had a rough idea of the answer—probably a dozen guards, plus the staff of ten or so that took care of the property. Then there was Marianne and Pearl. However, there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to give him any concrete information. The longer the conversation went on, the more certain I was that he was lying right to my face about his involvement with the attack, and that he was fishing for information that would make the next one successful.

“I don’t know! I’m not going around counting. I spend most of my time in the house or on the beach and that’s it. Hell, I don’t even know how many guards are at our house.”

Dad narrowed his eyes once again, tilting his head back.

“You seem different, Emily. You’re more insolent than usual. What’s going on there with you?” Anger flashed on his face, replacing the skepticism.

The anger on his face was unlike anything I’d ever seen before, and I’d seen Dad angry plenty of times.

“If I’m different, it’s because I’m not locked up in some damn house all the time.”

My father’s eyes appeared almost black as he leaned toward the screen as if to get a better look at me. “You fucked him, didn’t you?”

His words made my blood run cold.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t even try to lie to me. My men told me what happened on the beach, that he came to your rescue like some Prince fucking Charming. They told me he carried you back to his ATV in his arms like you were all his.”

His men? So he had been lying and he was in on the attack.

“You little slut. You know what you are? You’re a whore, just like your mother. All the time and money I’ve put into raising you right didn’t matter, and I should’ve known. Her whore blood runs in your veins, and it’s only a matter of time until—”

At that instant, I reached my limit. I was done being talked to like that, done being controlled.

“You know what, yeah, I did. More than once and I plan to do it again. And again, and again, and as many fucking times as I want to!”

The rage built on his face as I spoke, his cheeks taking on a deeper shade of red than I’d ever seen in my life. I knew for certain that if I’d been in front of him, he’d have hit me.

I didn’t care. I was having too much fun ripping into him.

“My virginity’s gone, long gone. I guess I’m just trash to you now that you can’t sell me to the highest bidder anymore, right?”

To my surprise, the rage on his face faded. Dad stared at me blankly for a moment, as if a circuit had shorted inside of him and he couldn’t quite figure out how to feel.

Then a smile spread. It was a horrible smile, an evil smile. The confidence I’d felt faded away at the sight of it, fear returning.

“You want to know where Marta is?” he asked. “She’s down in the basement right now. And she’s dead as a goddamn doornail.”