Page 53 of Use Me, Daddy

Working with him was like playing a game of chess. But when I got it right, when I saw that flicker of respect in his eyes, it made all the tension between us almost worth it.

As the evening approached, the staff began to light candles, and soft classical music filled the space. Aleksei stepped closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming again.

“Remember what I told you this morning, baby girl,” he said, low enough that only I could hear. “Tonight, you will obey me. No questions, no hesitation.”

I looked up at him, my cheeks flushing as the memory of his earlier words washed over me. He was so close now, his hand resting lightly on my hip, his fingers brushing the fabric of my dress. My heart was pounding, but there was no denying the way my body responded to him.

“And if I don’t?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

His eyes darkened, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “Then you’ll find out what a real punishment spanking over my knee is like,” he said softly, his grip tightening just enough to send a shiver down my spine. “Understand?”

Punishment spanking?

I bit my lip, fighting the urge to challenge him, but the way he was looking at me, the heat in his gaze… It was too much. I was already starting to unravel, and the night hadn’t even begun.

“Yes, Daddy,” I finally whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

“Good girl,” he purred, pressing a quick, searing kiss to my forehead before stepping back. “Now let’s show them how it’s done.”

And just like that, he was all business again, turning away to greet the first guests as they began to trickle in. But I couldn’t shake the heat in my cheeks, the way my heart pounded in my chest, or the way my clit pulsed between my legs.

Tonight was going to be a challenge, but I was determined to prove to him—more to myself really—that I could handle whatever he threw my way.

Both as his assistant and as his baby girl.

I blushed hard at the thought.

CHAPTER 17

Aleksei

Everything was going flawlessly.

The gallery was already alive with activity as the final touches were put in place for tonight’s auction. My men moved through the space with calculated efficiency, making sure every detail was perfect.

I paused for a moment, straightening my shoulders and taking a deep breath. I hadn’t forgotten my brother’s warning about the Orlovs. Most important, I needed to ensure that this event went smoothly. This was more than just another event. It was a statement—a declaration that the Morozovs were still in control, no matter what the Orlovs thought, or worse, were foolish enough to do.

I exhaled slowly, letting the tension roll off my shoulders. The night had to go off without a hitch, and I would make damn sure it did. Because in our world, any sign of weakness was an invitation for blood.

I stood near the entrance, my gaze sweeping over the room, cataloging every exit, every corner where an enemy might hide. This was my territory, and I wasn’t going to let those bastards encroach on it.

My gaze flicked to Roman, one of my most trusted men, stationed near the back entrance. He nodded to me, subtle but unmistakable. Our eyes met, and in that brief exchange, he knew exactly what I needed from him tonight: vigilance, discretion, and an unflinching readiness to eliminate any threats, Orlovs or not.

I walked over, my footsteps slow and deliberate on the polished marble floors. Roman straightened up as I approached, his expression expectant, waiting for my instructions.

“Everything in place?” I asked, my voice low but carrying the weight of authority.

“Yes, sir,” Roman replied, his eyes scanning the crowd that was beginning to gather near the main entrance. “All exits are covered, and the guest list has been checked twice. No unexpected names.”

“Good,” I said, my gaze flicking to the elegantly dressed guests who were beginning to trickle in. “I want this night to go off without a hitch. If you see any unfamiliar faces, especially anyone who looks like they don’t belong here, you handle it. Quietly.”

He gave a curt nod. “And the Orlovs?”

“I don’t want any of those bastards getting through the door,” I said coldly. “If they so much as step on our turf, I want to know about it before they even take a breath. Understood?”

“Understood,” Roman confirmed, his expression tightening with iron resolve.

I clapped him on the shoulder before turning away. My men knew what they were doing, and they knew the cost of failure.

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