Page 59 of Submitting to Daddy
“You came all the way down here for that? Must be a slow day at the Bureau.”
His faux smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You think you got out clean, but traitors don’t walk away without consequences.”
I stiffen, rising to my feet slowly. “Are you threatening me?”
He leans in, voice cold. “No. I’mpromising.You might’ve ducked out of custody with some legal loophole, but this isn’t over. When we build the case on the organized crime charges and bring them to court, you’ll be subpoenaed. You’ll have no choice. You’ll bury yourself with your own testimony when the Attorney General starts asking you about your involvement with Cillian King.”
I stare at him in silence, then slowly raise my hand between us. The four-carat diamond ring on my finger sparkles in the sunlight. Warner stares at it as I wiggle my fingers. “Spousal privilege,” I purr, letting a bold smile bloom across my face. “You can’t compel me to testify about or against my husband.”
His face sours at the realization he’s lost any upper hand he had on me or the Kings and he sneers, “Your father would be fucking ashamed of you.”
“You should probably leave now,” Eavan snips before letting out a low whistle.
On the other side of the street, Enzo, Cillian, and Nikolai step off the sidewalk and cut through traffic like they own the ground beneath their feet. The three of them angrily stare at Warner as they step onto the curb.
Warner takes a long look at me, his face taut and lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes flick to the three murderous men walking toward him and wisely decides this conversation is, in fact, over. He turns without another word and stalks off down the street, jaw tight and shoulders stiff with swallowed rage.
Cillian is at my side in seconds, crouching besideme. His hands cradle my face, thumbs brushing over my cheeks, anchoring me.
I suck in a breath as the last of the tension drains from my spine.
He presses a kiss to my forehead, warm and grounding. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I manage. My voice is hoarse, but steady.
Eavan grins. “She handled that like a fucking King.”
His soft hazel eyes not leaving mine, he smiles proudly. “That’s because she is one.”
ONE MONTH LATER
“Jesus, Cian,” Madison says, casting a teasing glance my way. “You look like you’re about to vomit.”
I grip the steering wheel tighter, trying—and failing—not to let the nerves show. My knuckles are white against the leather, and sure enough, my palm is damp on her thigh.
She lifts her brows, amused. “You’re seriously nervous.” She grins. “You.”
I glare at the road ahead. “I’m not nervous. I’m… aware of the stakes.”
“Your hands are sweating,” she points out with a triumphantsmirk.
“This is a big deal,” I huff, adjusting my grip and wiping my hand down the side of my jeans. “Your mom already thinks I’m some kind of blood-soaked criminal, and she’s not exactly wrong.”
“Are you serious?” Madison snorts. “You walked me into your penthouse with two of your brothers ready to put a bullet in my head, and I had to confess all my sins to men who’ve actuallykilledpeople.”
“And?” I glance over at her.
“This isdinner.” She pokes my arm. “With mymother.I can guarantee she doesn’t have a Glock tucked in the back of her jeans.”
“You don’tknowthat,” I mutter.
She laughs—a real one, full and bright—and it melts some of the dread coiling low in my stomach.
We’ve been married for a month. A chaotic, beautiful, exhausting month. And this is the last loose thread in the life we’re trying to build. Even if I don’t deserve it, getting her mother’s blessing is important to me.
The house appears around a bend. It’s a small, single-story brick ranch. White shutters. A perfectly mowed front lawn with pristine flowerbeds. Two rocking chairs on the porch. It’s simple. Normal.
It’s nothing like the world I dragged Madison into, and maybe that’s why it feels like the hardest battle I’ve ever fought.
