Page 215 of Morally Gray Daddies

A loud sob escapes her, and I quickly turn and rest my back against the vanity, pulling her against me.

“I’m sorry, babygirl. I had to. I couldn’t let him live.”

She shakes her head and pulls away to look up at me, her eyes wet with tears. “I love you,” she blurts.

I go still and stare at her, trying to make sure I heard her right. I did. She said she loves me.

“I love you, too, Anastasia. I think I have since the first time I saw you.”

“He’s really gone?” She looks so damn hopeful.

“Yeah, baby. He’s gone for good.”

We look at each other for a second before she throws her arms around me again. “Thank you, Daddy. Thank you.”

A lump forms in my throat; it’s so big I can’t speak, so I don’t. Instead, I hold her tightly and pray that I will make her the happiest woman in the world.

“You called me Daddy,” I finally say.

She steps back, her cheeks flushed as she peers up at me. “Is that okay?”

I step toward her and cup her chin. “Yeah, babygirl. That’s perfect.”

Chapter Eighteen

Two weeks later…

Ana

“Ana, dear.” Helen pops into our bedroom and holds up a bottle. “We haven’t had our girl time yet this week, and I’m in the mood for a drinky-poo.”

I look up from the contouring tutorial I’m watching and grin. “Is that his new bottle of expensive whiskey?”

She looks at it and then back at me. “It sure is. Come.”

Giggling, I roll off the bed and follow her out of our room. Ever since the night I discovered Patrick in the bathroom with blood on his hands, I’ve been sleeping in here with him. He even helped me move my clothes over from the guest suite.

Every night, he’s run me a bath in his enormous tub and left me to relax by myself. We’ve slept together every night, but that’s all we’ve done. He hasn’t tried to have sex with me or even touched me, other than hugs and kisses. Then, last night we started kissing, and it turned from something gentle to something hot and heavy. My body was buzzing for him, and I was ready for more, but all of a sudden, he pulled away and told me he needed to take a shower.

Maybe I can ask Helen what to do. She’ll know, right? As wild as it seems, she’s become like a mother to me these past few weeks. She dotes on me and talks to me about anything and everything. We’ve watched movies and eaten popcorn together. And every time she leaves, she hugs me and tells me she’s proud of me. I don’t know if she realizes how much it means.

She has miniature sandwiches set out on the coffee table for us. After the first time we drank together, Patrick made a rule that if we drink, we have to have food as well. There are a lot of sandwiches, though. Way more than she and I can eat on our own.

“I invited your friends over. They’re coming up the elevator now.”

My mouth drops open as I gaze at Helen. She shrugs like it’s nothing. If only she knew how much it meant to me.

“We’re here!” Cali shouts as the five women enter the penthouse.

Declan’s housekeeper, Grace, walks in a few seconds later. Apparently, she and Helen are good friends. They grew up in the mafia together.

“I brought cake. It goes great with whiskey,” she says.

According to Helen and Grace, everything goes with whiskey.

We start pouring drinks and settle down in the living room. Well, I guess if I’m going to ask my friends about my predicament, I might as well speak to all of them at once.

“So, I need some advice,” I blurt.

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