Page 8 of Daddy Devious

Disappointment is like a knife to the chest. I knew it wasn’t right, but I had hoped, maybe…

“It says you will receive your original sum, times ten.”

I can only stare at him, once again robbed of my ability to speak. Only now it’s not fear, but mind-numbing shock that steals my voice.

Ten. Million. Dollars.

Holy shit.

With that kind of money, I won’t even need the part-time job at the hardware store. I can buy a house pretty much wherever I want and live the rest of my days in the lap of luxury. Any reservations I’d had about this agreement fly out the window, chucked into the sun by this new revelation.

I sign the final page with a flourish, and all but shove the stack of papers at him. “Done. So, what’s next? I assume I need to go home and pack, let my friends know I’ll be gone for a while.”

Not that I have any clue how I’ll explain leaving town for an entire month, but I’m sure I’ll think of something.

But then I catch the look in Mr. Stone’s eye, and unease settles heavy in my gut. “You won’t be going home, Victoria.”

Victoria. It’s probably really fucked-up to enjoy the sound of my name in his deep, rumbling voice considering he’s just blackmailed me into a month of god-knows-what in some undisclosed location. And yet, I can’t help the way my heart leaps when he says it.

Then his words register and my heart jolts again, but for an entirely different reason this time. “What do you mean, I’m not going home? I can’t leave for a month with just the clothes on my back.”

“Everything you need will be provided for you. There’s a car waiting for us downstairs. We’ll be going out the back, to avoid any unnecessary questions.”

He holds out a hand, I assume to help me to my feet. But instead, I grip the arms of said chair, holding on for dear life as panic once more grabs me by the throat. “I can’t justleave.”

“That was the deal, Victoria. And unless you would like a demonstration of how I deal with defiant Little girls, I suggest you stand up right now.”

Does he mean another spanking? That has to be what he means. Or perhaps some other punishment too devious for my imagination to even conjure.

“Please,” I whisper, pleading with him for understanding. “I need to go home first. Just for a few minutes.”

His expression softens, just a fraction, and for a moment I think I’m about to get my way. “The flight to the island is a little over three hours long. You’ll have plenty of time to make a list of anything you feel you need from your apartment. I’ll send someone to pick up what’s on your list, and you can email your friends from the plane to let them know you’ll be out of town on business for a while. That is my final offer, Victoria. I suggest you take it.”

There’s a hardness to his voice that sends a shiver of fear down my spine. With a single jerk of my head, I force my hands to release their death grip on the chair and place my fingers in his palm.

“Good choice, little one.”

I may like “little one” even more than I like my own name. And even though there’s a voice in the back of my head telling me that I shouldn’t, that it’s all a trap, I can’t help but smile up at him as he pulls me up from the chair. “So, um, if you’re calling me Victoria, should I call you Maxwell?” I ask as he leads me back to the secret elevator.

His laughter, rich and dark as a good cup of coffee fills the elevator cab. “Absolutely not, little girl. And if you try, I can promise you will face far worse consequences than a couple swats to the bottom.”

“Oh.” For reasons I can’t explain, the wordconsequencesmakes my pussy clench. “So I have to call you Mr. Stone the whole time we’re together?”

“No.” Turning to face me, he catches my chin in his hand.

My heart races at that simple touch. Not just because it’s a man as gorgeous as Maxwell Stone touching me in such an intimate manner, but because it feels like more than a touch. It feels like a claiming somehow. Like a gesture of ownership, and for the first time since I signed that contract of his, I truly understand that I’ve signed myself over to a man I know next to nothing about.

“Not Mr. Stone. Not Maxwell. Not Max, or any other version your creative little mind can think up. From this point forward you will call me by one name, and one name only.”

I swallow hard, and still my voice is nothing more than a rough whisper when I speak. “What name is that?”

“The only name you are allowed to call me, little one… isDaddy.”

Chapter Four

Maxwell

It’s a delight, watching Victoria’s eyes go round with shock, a delight I doubt I’ll tire of anytime soon.

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