Page 71 of Break Me, Daddy

To her shock, he didn’t scowl or threaten her again. Instead, a smile curved his lips as he stared down at her. “If you’re going to act like a pouty child who’s been denied something she wants, you’re much more likely to find yourself standing in the corner than over my knee. I don’t negotiate with brats, no matter how adorable they might be.”

“You think I’m adorable?”

“Francesca.”

Sighing, she leaned back against the counter. “I just don’t understand why you won’t spank me. I lied right to your face about something important. If that doesn’t deserve a hell of a spanking, I don’t know what does.”

He reached for her, gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger in that way he had that never failed to make her feel very, very small. “Trust me, you will be punished for lying. And by the time it’s over, I suspect you will think twice abouteverlying to your Daddy again. But I won’t be manipulated into doing something that could harm you, just becauseyouthink it’s what you deserve. So that’s the last we’re going to talk about it until I’ve decided what your punishment should be. Am I clear, Francesca?”

Even though she wasn’t getting exactly what she wanted out of the exchange, a sense of calm washed over her. Whatever he decided, it was out of her hands, and there was a lightness to that knowledge. To knowing that no matter how much she might hate herself for what had happened last night, Daddy would take care of it. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Now, go set the table. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Holden

The questionof how to punish his wayward babygirl plagued him all through breakfast. And through the two hours he spent working while she watched a movie on her tablet in his office. Despite how nice, howhomeyit felt to have her there while he worked, the weight of his decision weighed on him.

By the third time he caught her yawning, he sent her upstairs for a nap. Which, of course, she protested, but he found himself grinning at her sulky attitude as she dragged herself out of his office toward the stairs. She was seeming much more like her usual bratty self, and even if it did make him a little crazy, it felt like a move in the right direction.

“At least an hour,” he called after her. “You don’t have to sleep but you had better stay in that bed until I come get you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you.”

His palm positively itched to connect with her ass, but he forced himself to stay seated as he listened to her climb the stairs. Spanking was off the table for now, no matter how many of his buttons she pushed.

When he was sure she was tucked away upstairs, he picked up his phone and tapped out a message to the one person he was certain knew enough about Frankie’s…issuesto give him some sound advice.

HOLDEN

Need to talk. It’s about Frankie. You got ten minutes to spare?

CORDELIA

Just about to go on my lunch break. Give me a few and I’ll call.

He glancedtoward the stairs as he waited for his phone to ring. Uncertainty wasn’t a feeling he was used to entertaining, even more so when it came to the woman sleeping upstairs in his bed. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d known she was his. And he’d moved forward on that assumption, that no matter what, she would yield to him eventually.

But, in her very Frankie way, she’d thwarted him at nearly every turn. He was never quite sure which version of her he was going to get, and he was apparently enough of an emotional masochist to enjoy the chase.

Now, however, that uncertainty felt so much… deeper. Heavier. Making the wrong move when she was running from him had never held any real consequences, save his own frustration when she outmaneuvered him yet again. But if he made the wrong call now, god only knew what kind of damage it could have on her psyche.

The buzzing of his phone against his hand jolted him out of his dark thoughts, and he nearly sighed with relief at Cordelia’s name on his screen. “Hey. Thanks for calling.”

“Of course.” Her smoky voice was stronger today, without the tremors of fear, then anger he’d heard over the past couple days. “What’s up?”

“I assume Frankie told you all what happened. Why she was in the hospital.”

“She told the others, which means Ivy told me. Starving herself, like she doesn’t look like a fucking runway model even on her worst day. I swear to god if I ever get my hands on whoever made her feel like she needed to…” Pausing, Cordelia dragged in a deep breath. “Sorry. You didn’t call to listen to me rage. Yes, I know why she was in the hospital. Did something happen?”

Her rage helped to settle him, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. It was almost like she was validating his own anger, his own helplessness, and it calmed him in a way little else could these days. “Yeah. I got home last night, found her in the kitchen, crying. Surrounded by empty bags of chips and candy and a few other things.”

“Fuck. How is she today?”

“Better.” He paused, suddenly unsure of how to continue. But as with so many other things in life, he figured the best way forward was just to say it. “She wants me to punish her. For the binge.”

Silence fell on the other end of the line, so complete he wondered for a moment if the call had dropped. Until he heard her low hiss of breath.

“You better not even be thinking about it, Holden Prescott, or I’ll come over there and kick your ass myself.”

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