Page 47 of Break Me, Daddy

“Yes, Daddy.”

Fuck. Those words were harder to hear than he’d thought after their conversation. But he swallowed his own misery and focused on giving her what she needed. “Good girl. Finish your yogurt and then you’re free to spend your day however you like, as long as you keep me up to date on where you’ll be and with who.”

Wrinkling her nose, she scooped up another bite of yogurt and berries. “I think you’re taking this Daddy thing a little too literally.”

“I take my role as your Daddy very seriously, Francesca. Something to keep in mind while you’re making your decision.”

Pain stabbed at him. The thought of giving her the space and freedom to turn her back on him, onthem,yet again was like a knife to the chest. But it was what she needed. What she deserved, since he hadn’t really given her that space the first time around. He was damn well going to give it to her now, and hopefully she’d realize sooner rather than later where she truly belonged.

In his bed, in his arms, over his knee.

Forever.

Frankie

It was weird,living in Holden’s house without him hovering over her every second of the day. Ever since his declaration the day before, he’d given her plenty of space around the house. They’d ended up watching a movie together after dinner, but only because she’d asked if he wanted to, not because he’d set their schedule like he had every day before.

She still wasn’t sure how she felt about all this newfound freedom.

Especially since now she was on her way to the college to meet her father and Dean Michaels. Because her father had the kind of money that demanded an in-person meeting with the dean of the whole damn school. Holden had raised an eyebrow when she’d told him she was going out for the day, but he hadn’t asked any questions. He’d only pressed a yogurt into her hand, instructed her to send him a picture of her lunch if she wasn’t home before then, and told her to have a good day.

If he’d questioned her about her plans for the day, she would have caved eventually. Knowing him, he would have insisted on coming with her no matter how much she tried to argue that she could handle her father on her own.

And as she sat in the parking lot of the school, staring up at the old brick building with her anxiety squeezing the air from her lungs, she couldn’t help but wish he had pressed. Had forced himself into the situation like so many times before. Even Francis Legare would think twice about arguing with a man five inches taller and a solid fifty pounds of muscle heavier than him. And if the physical differences didn’t scare him, Holden wasn’t without his own connections. He could more than hold his own against her father.

Maybe she should call him. Tell him the truth and let Daddy step in and fix everything.

Gripping the handle of her car door harder, she gave herself a mental shake. No. This was her mess and she was going to be a big girl and fix it herself. If for no other reason than to prove to herself, and him, that she could. That if she needed to, she could survive without him.

Wasn’t that what their whole conversation had been about yesterday? Proving to both of them that she was with him because she wanted to be, not just because she was too weak and pathetic to make it on her own?

Driven by that determination, she shoved open the car door and made her way toward the old brick building.

She found her father in the waiting room of the dean’s office, not looking any happier than he’d sounded on the phone. When she stepped into the spacious, richly decorated area, his gaze raked down her form, earning her a small nod of approval for the demure, flowing dress she’d chosen for the meeting. Some of the anxiety gripping her eased, but not enough for her to actually breathe.

And even that little bit of relief fled when the dean’s secretary looked up and gestured toward his door. “Dean Michaels will see you now.”

Together as one, father and daughter stepped forward. Inside, Frankie recoiled a bit at the realization of how alike they were, even in such small things like how they moved.

Brainwashing runs deep, she thought bitterly to herself as she followed her father into the dean’s office.

Dean Michaels remained seated behind his desk, a smug, knowing smile curving his lips. And in that moment, she knew without a doubt her suspension wouldn’t be lifted.

Thank god.

“Francis, Francesca. Have a seat, please.”

Without speaking—because that was her father’s role, at least for now—Frankie settled in one of the plush visitor’s chairs, her spine straight and her head held high. Her father settled in the other, choosing by contrast to relax back into the comfortable leather, giving the impression of a man at ease with nothing to lose.

Score one for the Legares.

Behind his desk, Dean Michaels could barely contain his glee, and Frankie was left wondering exactly what her father had done to make this man despise him so much. Because she was absolutely certain he’d donesomethingto earn the pure hatred sparking in the dean’s eyes.

“Let’s cut to the chase, Beau,” her father drawled from his relaxed position beside her. No rush, no urgency. Because Legares never let anyone hurry them. “How much is it going to take to get my daughter back into her classes where she belongs?”

You could have at least pretended there was some kind of mistake, dad. Plead my case a bit before offering to buy off the fucking dean.

But of course he hadn’t. Because that would have spared her at least some embarrassment. And since she’d humiliated him, however unintentionally, this was her punishment. Swallowing hard, she willed back the heat threatening to rise to her cheeks, pretending with all her might that his words weren’t affecting her at all.

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