Page 192 of Morally Gray Daddies

After turning on my heel, I stride out of the office with Charlie following. Ian is already in the driver’s seat with the car running.

I climb into the front passenger seat and glance back at her. She’s crying and shaking, and I debate going back into that house to put a bullet in her father’s head. His days are numbered. I may have made a deal not to kill him today over the money, but his daughter just became mine, and I have a feeling once I uncover what he’s done to her in her lifetime, I’ll be back to finish him. Because no one hurts what belongs to me. Even if she is a stranger.

“Buckle up,” I murmur.

When Charlie climbs in next to her, she startles, reaches for the seatbelt, and secures it with trembling fingers.

Ian takes off, and we ride in complete silence to the end of the driveway.

“I wish I could be a fly on the wall when you explain this to Declan,” Ian finally says.

I glance back at the girl. She’s still crying, and I decide it doesn’t matter what Declan says. I did the right thing.

“Shut the fuck up,” I grit through my teeth. “Find the closest drive-through. She needs to eat. Then, go to my house.”

“Aye,” Ian replies. “Whatever you say, boss.”

Sarcastic asshole. Now I see why Declan hates being called that.

Ian and Charlie ride the elevator up to my penthouse with us. I’ve got to go see Declan and tell him about this before he catches wind of it. For all I know, her father could have called the cops on me and claimed I kidnapped her. I wouldn’t put it past the guy.

She hasn’t said a word to any of us. Even when I handed her the takeout bag, she didn’t speak. She also didn’t eat. I’m hoping when I leave her alone, she will. Otherwise, I’m going to have to force-feed her because she’s severely underweight.

“Wait out here,” I tell my men when we approach my door on the top floor.

They nod and stand guard outside as I lead her into the apartment. I’ve owned this place since I was eighteen, but I’m not overly attached to it. Work has been my priority over the years, so I’ve spent more time on the estate than I have here. I haven’t had much time to think about it, but I’m excited at the thought of having a home there. Maybe it will mean more to me than this place.

“Follow me.” I walk her through the large open living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in enough light to make it feel airy in here, despite the cloudy, overcast day we’re having. “Kitchen is over there. There’s plenty of food and drinks. Help yourself to anything you want.”

She doesn’t say anything, and it’s frustrating. I want to hear her voice again.

“You can stay in this room. There’s a bathroom that’s fully stocked. Use anything in there. If there’s something else you need, let me know, and I’ll get it.”

She looks around the enormous room and then up at me, her gaze worried as she tugs on the threadbare sweater she’s wearing. It can’t possibly be keeping her warm. Her shiver confirms my thought, so I quickly pull out my phone to remotely turn the temperature up.

Again, she doesn’t speak, only nods.

“Fuck. I didn’t let you grab anything from your house before we left. I can go back there and get what you want.”

Before I can pull out my phone to have her type a list, she quickly shakes her head.

“You don’t want anything?”

She shakes her head harder, her message loud and clear. I suspect she didn’t have a lot to begin with, and none of it she was attached to. Probably because of him.

“Fine. I’ll get you some clothes. I need to handle some work stuff, but I’ll be back in a few hours. Charlie and Ian will be outside the front door if you need anything. They won’t come in unless, for some reason, you need them to. Make yourself at home.”

When she doesn’t reply, I reach out and hook a finger under her chin. She startles, letting out a gasp, and I hate myself for scaring her.

“What’s your name?”

Her blue eyes search my face for a second before her lips part. “Ana. Anastasia,” she whispers.

Anastasia. Fuck. So beautiful.

My heart beats faster. Her voice is soft and feminine.

“How old are you?” I need to know. For whatever reason, this feels important. I need to know if she’s a child. She’s definitely younger than me.

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